So, there was my car, minding its own business, parked on the side of the road just up the block from the yeshivah. It was the morning of Taanis Esther, and it would be a busy afternoon for me, before Purim began. I got out of the car to enter the yeshivah building. My son Avi was still sitting in the car, when he heard a bump.
A passing car had nicked the driver’s side mirror of my car. The driver got out of the car, surmised that all was fine and drove off. But all was not fine. The mirror was badly damaged. Before I left yeshivah, I taped the mirror with strong tape so that it looked like a yeshivish car and drove straight to my mechanic.
The mechanic informed me that the mirror would have to be replaced but, since he didn’t have it in stock, I’d have to return on Sunday. He was confident that my professional tape job would hold the mirror until after Purim.
On Sunday, I returned to the mechanic, and a mere $175 later, the mirror was replaced.
My wife often chides me that the important thing is that at least I get a “Musings” article out of any event. I don’t know if one “Musings” is worth paying $175 for, but it’s definitely something. I should add that if the driver of the vehicle who hit my mirror happens to read this article and pays me back, that’ll be an even better “Musings.”
What’s the message of a broken car mirror just hours before Purim?
It’s one of the most famous quips of my rebbi, Rabbi Berel Wein: When one learns to drive, the first thing a driving instructor teaches his eager student is that the driver first needs to look in his rearview mirror. He must be sure there’s no oncoming traffic before he can pull out into the street. If one can’t see what’s behind him, he can’t safely proceed.
The metaphoric message is that if we don’t understand or recognize what’s behind us, i.e., the panorama of Jewish history, and the fact that we are part of a long and encompassing story, we will not have a proper perspective of current and future events.
In Parshas B’Shalach, the Torah relates about Amalek’s nefarious and unprovoked attack. We read the nine-pasuk account on Purim morning. The final words are: “milchamah laShem baAmalek mi’dor dor – a war against Amalek from generation to generation (Sh’mos 17:16).”
Rabbi Yitzchak Hutner (Pachad Yitzchak, Purim, p. 65) notes that Amalek attacks by trying to exploit the generation gap. He plants ideas in children’s minds that their parents cannot relate to them, and vice versa. In doing so, he tries to create friction so that children scoff at the traditions of their parents and teachers.
To overcome Amalek, we strengthen the connection between generations and reinforce our commitment to our unbroken chain of transmission and tradition. In contrast to Amalek, our strength lies in “Dor l’dor y’shabach maasecha – Generation to generation will praise Your deeds” (T’hilim 145:4).
In his newly published Haggadah, BaDerech, Rabbi Judah Mischel notes that the Shem MiShmuel describes our mission to search out and destroy chametz as an allusion to the command to wipe out Amalek. He also notes that after b’dikas chametz, Reb Aharon of Belz would distribute hamantashen to be burned with the chametz.
There is no holiday more dedicated to the preservation of tradition and strengthening of the intergenerational bond than Pesach. The Torah itself states that the theme of the Seder is, “And you shall tell your son on that day saying, because of this Hashem did for me when He took me out of Egypt” (Sh’mos 13:8). It is no surprise that it is the most often quoted pasuk in the Haggadah.
Purim celebrates the vanquishing of Amalek, who sought to destroy our heritage and traditions. We then celebrate Pesach, the genesis of our nationhood, traditions, and destiny.
Amalek tried – and tries – to damage our proverbial driver’s mirror so that we won’t see what is behind us before pulling out. He seeks to sever our feelings of connection to the past and the pride we feel in being part of a bigger and more incredible story.
Purim and Pesach ensure that our mirror is firmly entrenched so that we utilize it properly as we continue along the elongated, yet glorious road of our collective national destiny.
Rabbi Dani Staum, LMSW, is a popular speaker, columnist, and author. He is a rebbe at Heichal HaTorah in Teaneck, NJ. and principal of Mesivta Orchos Yosher in Spring Valley, NY. Rabbi Staum is also a member of the administration of Camp Dora Golding. He can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. and at www.strivinghigher.com.
