Let me start with a bit of a parlor trick. I’m going to tell you what many of my colleagues often speak about when this parasha comes around—not because I’ve asked them, but because I know how they think.

When they look at this week’s parasha, I know exactly where their minds will go. They will see that Purim is approaching, and they will say, “Ah, it’s Shabbat Zachor—the time to remember Amalek.” And they will remind their communities of what Amalek did to us.

For those unfamiliar with the story, Amalek attacked the Israelites in the wilderness, striking from behind and preying upon the weak and vulnerable. In response, the Torah commands us: “Remember what Amalek did to you… do not forget.”

Many of my colleagues will use this moment to emphasize that Amalek is not just a figure of the past. They will argue that Amalek exists in every generation. After all, our tradition teaches that Amalek’s descendants lived in the time of King Saul, and later, in the time of Purim, as Haman himself was said to be a descendant of Amalek. They will take this logic a step further, pointing to modern enemies and declaring, “Look, here is the Amalek of today.”

This mindset is why we so often label those who wish us harm as Amalek, or Nazis, or some other embodiment of ultimate evil. But today, I want to challenge this way of thinking.

The Biases That Shape Our Thinking

The human mind is wired with cognitive biases that lead us to see patterns—even when they may not fully exist. Two in particular contribute to the way we approach Amalek:

Anchoring Bias

When something dominates our thoughts, we begin to interpret the world through that lens. When we read Parashat Zachor, Amalek is at the forefront of our minds, and suddenly, we start seeing Amalek everywhere.

Frequency Bias and the Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon

When we learn something new, we start noticing it everywhere. If you just learned a new word, you will suddenly hear it multiple times a day. Similarly, when we talk about Amalek, we begin to see Amalek in every enemy, every threat, every conflict.

This cognitive tendency is sometimes called the Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon—a name that originated from an unlikely source. In the 1990s, an online forum user observed that after first hearing about the German terrorist group known as the Baader-Meinhof Gang, they suddenly started encountering the name everywhere. Other forum members related to this experience, and the name stuck. The phenomenon has nothing to do with the Baader-Meinhof Gang itself; it simply describes the way our brains latch onto information and then seemingly “find” it everywhere.

This is why, year after year, rabbis declare that we are “living in a time of Amalek.” And, to be fair, Jewish history gives us plenty of reasons to believe this. There have always been new enemies who sought to destroy us. But this thinking is dangerous because it leads us to believe that history is repeating itself exactly—when, in reality, it is not.

History Doesn’t Repeat, It Rhymes

As Mark Twain put it, “History doesn’t repeat itself, but it rhymes.” Yes, there are patterns across time. But if we want to truly understand our world, we must zoom in and see the differences, not just the similarities.

Consider this: One of the greatest enemies of the Jewish people today is Hamas. I promise you that this Shabbat, there will be rabbis across the country who declare that Hamas is the modern embodiment of Amalek.

And yet, this framing is flawed. When we fight a war through the paradigm of Amalek, we are always one step behind—because we are fighting an old war rather than understanding the nuances of the present one.

Yes, Hamas seeks to destroy the Jewish people. Yes, they spread conspiracy theories about us. Yes, they target Jews specifically. But are they the same as Amalek? Or the Nazis?

Let’s consider the differences:

• The Nazis were the ruling state power of Germany; Hamas is a non-state terrorist organization.
• The Nazis acted on behalf of their government; Hamas acts as a proxy for Iran.
• The Nazis sought to systematically exterminate Jews in an industrialized genocide; Hamas wages asymmetrical warfare and uses human shields.

The distinctions matter. And when we ignore them, we fail to address the unique challenges of our time.

The Danger of Oversimplification

Using charged labels—like calling someone a Nazi, or a country an apartheid state—may feel emotionally satisfying, but it often distorts reality. The same is true when we overuse the term Amalek.

By painting all our enemies with the same brush, we fail to see them for who they truly are. And if we do not fully understand them, how can we ever hope to defeat them?

A Challenge for Us All

So here is my challenge to you: The next time you hear a leader use a sweeping historical analogy, take a step back. Ask yourself: Does this label truly fit? Or am I falling into a cognitive bias?

Because as Jews, our strength has always been in our ability to think critically. And if we want to overcome the threats we face today, we must see them as they truly are—not just as echoes of the past.

Not all of our enemies are Amalek. Not all of our enemies are Nazis. And the quicker we recognize that, the better equipped we will be to confront the real dangers of our time.

And that is how we truly remember Amalek.

What’s the number one fear among Americans? You might think it’s spiders—that’s definitely in the top 10. Or maybe death? Surprisingly, that only comes in at number two.

The number one fear? Public speaking.

Yes, more people fear getting up in front of an audience than they do facing their own mortality. Comedian Jerry Seinfeld even joked that at a funeral, most people would rather be in the casket than delivering the eulogy. That’s how powerful the fear of public speaking is.

And yet, public speaking is something so many people have to do. Whether it’s a presentation at work, a toast at a wedding, or even just speaking up in a meeting, we’re constantly faced with moments where we have to put ourselves out there. So why is it so terrifying?

At its core, the fear of public speaking isn’t just about standing on a stage—it’s about the fear of failure. The fear of messing up in front of others. The fear of looking foolish. The fear that we won’t be good enough.

As a rabbi, I can tell you that public speaking wasn’t something I naturally knew how to do. Rabbinical school teaches you how to write sermons—how to structure them, outline them, and edit drafts—but it doesn’t teach you how to deliverthem. I had to learn that on my own. And one of the best ways I learned? Watching stand-up comedians.

Now, comedians know a thing or two about failure. Every comic, no matter how successful, has bombed. In fact, they expect to bomb at some point. The best advice comedians give each other? “Bomb early and bomb often.”

This brings me to one of the most controversial, raunchy, over-the-top stand-up comedians of all time: Andrew Dice Clay. Love him or hate him, he did something fascinating. One night, he intentionally went on stage and bombed—flat delivery, no prepared jokes, just talking for an hour and a half. And then, he released an album of the performance, calling it The Day the Laughter Died.

And here’s the crazy thing: People actually enjoyed it.

Why? Because there’s something powerful about embracing failure. It’s real. It’s raw. It’s human. And, most importantly, it’s part of the process of becoming great.

 

The Art of Failing Forward

There’s a lesson here, not just for comedians, but for all of us: failure isn’t the end—it’s part of the process. In fact, the people who become the best at what they do are often the ones who have failed the biggest along the way.

We see this not just in comedy but in business, sports, and leadership.

Take, for example, a famous story from IBM in the 1960s. An employee made a massive mistake that cost the company $10 million—a fortune at the time. He walked into the CEO’s office, resignation letter in hand, fully expecting to be fired.

But the CEO stopped him and said, “Fire you? I just spent $10 million on your education!”

Think about that for a second. The CEO saw the mistake not as a disaster, but as an investment—a $10 million lesson that would make this employee better in the future.

That mindset—understanding that failure is not just something to avoid, but something to embrace and learn from—is what separates those who succeed from those who give up.

The reality is that failure is a requirement for success. Every single great leader, innovator, and trailblazer has failed.Not just once. Not just twice. But over and over again.

Why? Because failure builds resilience.

It forces us to reevaluate, adjust, and grow. It teaches us what doesn’t work so we can get closer to what does. And perhaps most importantly, it reminds us that we are human, that perfection is a myth, and that mistakes are not just acceptable—they are necessary.

 

Aaron, the High Priest, and the Power of Redemption

This idea isn’t just a modern concept—it’s deeply rooted in Jewish tradition.

Consider Aaron, the first High Priest of Israel. What qualified him for this role? You might say nepotism—he was Moses’ brother, after all. But that’s not the real reason.

Aaron was involved in one of the biggest screw-ups in Jewish history: the Golden Calf.

When the Israelites feared Moses was gone, they turned to Aaron. Instead of guiding them toward faith and patience, Aaron gave in to the pressure. He took their gold, melted it down, and helped create an idol—breaking at least one, if not multiple, of the Ten Commandments. This was a monumental failure, referenced throughout the Torah as Israel’s great sin.

And yet, Aaron is later appointed as the High Priest.

Why? Because his mistakes didn’t disqualify him—they prepared him.

Aaron understood failure. He understood what it meant to fall short. And that made him a better leader, one who could guide people not from a place of perfection, but from experience. He could relate to the struggles of the people because he himself had stumbled.

In Judaism, we have a saying from the Passover Haggadah:
“Matzchil b’gnut u’misayem b’shevach”—We begin with our disgrace and end with our praise.

This applies not just to the Exodus story, but to personal growth as well. It’s not about being perfect. It’s about recognizing our failures, learning from them, and using them as stepping stones toward something greater.

 

The Call to Take Risks

Wouldn’t it be nice if I just said, “Mistakes are okay, don’t worry about it”? But that’s not what I’m saying.

I’m saying: Make mistakes on purpose.

Take risks. Put yourself in uncomfortable situations. Try things you might fail at—because that’s the only way you’ll ever grow.

Andrew Dice Clay didn’t just bomb—he embraced bombing. He turned failure into an art form. He intentionally stood on stage and did the thing that most comedians fear the most. And in doing so, he became better.

The most successful people in the world aren’t the ones who played it safe. They’re the ones who failed, learned, and failed forward.

So here’s my challenge to you:

Go out there. Mess up. Make mistakes. Learn from them.

And most importantly—keep going.

Because your failures might just be the very thing that makes you great.

What is the best-kept Jewish secret to financial success? Many have speculated about the remarkable financial achievements of the Jewish people, often noting their disproportionate representation among the world’s wealthiest individuals. Consider this: Jews make up just 0.2% of the global population, yet they account for 20% of the world’s billionaires. Statistically, this is an anomaly—so what’s the key to Jewish financial success?

Many have attempted to answer this question, and numerous books have been written on the topic—mostly by non-Jews, as Jews themselves rarely disclose what they consider to be their true secret. But if there is one fundamental principle that underlies Jewish success, it is this: the cultural practice of giving.

The Counterintuitive Wealth-Building Principle: Giving Leads to More Wealth

At first glance, the idea that giving away wealth leads to greater financial success may seem paradoxical. However, Jewish tradition holds that the more one gives, the more one receives.

Consider another striking statistic: while Jews make up only 2-3% of the U.S. population, they contribute approximately 25% of all philanthropic donations in the country. This remarkable level of generosity is deeply embedded in Jewish culture and faith, and it is no coincidence that Jewish communities have thrived financially throughout history.

This principle is not a modern invention—it has been recognized for centuries. The Talmud (Tractate Shabbat 119a) records a discussion among the rabbis: Why are the Jews of the Land of Israel wealthy? The answer: Because they give so much to tzedakah (charity).

This teaching suggests that wealth is not simply a result of hard work or financial strategy; rather, it is directly connected to one’s willingness to give.

Tzedakah: More Than Charity, A Sacred Responsibility

Tzedakah is often translated as “charity,” but in Jewish thought, it is much more than that. It is not viewed as an optional act of kindness but as a moral and spiritual obligation. Giving is a foundational part of Jewish life, extending beyond money to include time, resources, and support for the community.

This is not just about feeling good; the Talmud makes it clear that giving leads to actual, tangible wealth. Unlike many financial advisors who advocate hoarding and strategic investing before giving, Jewish wisdom suggests the opposite: give first, and financial success will follow.

Even the great Jewish philosopher Maimonides (Rambam) emphasized this idea, stating:
“Anyone who gives tzedakah will never be poor, and anyone who gives will never lack resources.”
This perspective is radically different from conventional financial wisdom.

A Biblical Example: Giving in the Wilderness

This concept is beautifully illustrated in the Torah portion Parshat Terumah, which describes the first sacred act of communal giving by the Israelites.

Chronologically, this portion follows the sin of the Golden Calf, when the Israelites gave their gold to create an idol. That was an example of misguided generosity. However, in Parshat Terumah, the people contribute once again—this time to build the Mishkan (Tabernacle), the portable sanctuary for God’s presence.

Even in the harsh desert, where resources were scarce, the Israelites were asked to give. And despite their limited means, they did so wholeheartedly. The lesson? Even when it seems difficult, giving creates abundance.

Moses Montefiore: A Story of True Wealth

A well-known example of this philosophy in action is Sir Moses Montefiore, a 19th-century Jewish philanthropist and community leader in England. Montefiore was a man of great wealth and influence—he even served as the Sheriff of London. His contributions to Jewish communities extended across Europe and the Middle East, including funding the first neighborhood outside the Old City walls of Jerusalem.

One day, someone asked Montefiore:
“What are you worth?”

Montefiore responded with a figure that seemed surprisingly low. The questioner, knowing Montefiore had much more wealth, pressed him:
“Surely you are worth far more than that?”

Montefiore replied,
“You didn’t ask how much I have. You asked how much I am worth. And the only true measure of worth is how much one gives to others.”

In other words, we are only as wealthy as the amount we are willing to share.

The Kabbalistic Perspective: Keeping the Divine Flow Open

Jewish mysticism (Kabbalah) also reinforces this idea. The Zohar describes a spiritual concept called shefa, a divine flow of abundance that moves from God to humanity. However, if one hoards wealth, the flow is blocked. The way to keep shefa moving is to continuously pass it on—by giving to others.

This mystical understanding aligns perfectly with the Talmudic and Torah teachings on generosity: when we give freely, we open ourselves to receiving more.

Shifting to an Abundance Mindset

This perspective challenges conventional financial logic. Instead of focusing on accumulation, it emphasizes a trust in abundance—the belief that wealth flows to those who keep it in motion.

So here’s a challenge: this week, this month, take a moment to reflect on how much you have given. If you want to see true abundance in your life, consider giving more than you are accustomed to.

Of course, financial advisors would likely advise against this approach. But Jewish wisdom suggests otherwise. Giving is not just about charity—it is a time-tested key to success.

Ultimately, the Jewish secret to financial success isn’t about strategy, luck, or privilege. It’s about generosity.