by Jennifer Zukerman '28
When I was about seven years old, my mother asked me to see if the mail had been delivered. I returned to report that yes, indeed, the mail was at the door. She had meant, of course, for me to bring in the mail, but I was diligently focused on adhering to boundaries, and I expected that she’d be pleased
For anyone who struggles to make sense of the symbologies we encounter during the course of a day, the story of King Shaul in this week’s Haftorah (I Samuel 15:1-34) is a nightmare of alienation and dispossession, as we see his misperception of the Divine spiral into cosmic spiritual rejection.
The Haftorah opens with HaShem’s command to eradicate every trace of the Amalekite nation. Shaul and his army kill every man, woman, and child, and bring King Agag, Amalek’s descendent, back in chains.
In the wake of King Shaul’s great victory, he sees Shmuel coming toward him. Shaul gushes, “Hakimoti et dvar HaShem! I have fulfilled HaShem’s command!” (I Samuel 15:13). But Shmuel descends upon the king with the wrath of God. The king has gone about it all wrong, sparing Agag along with the best of the Amalekite flocks.
We cannot assume a character defect, as Shaul is described as favored by HaShem and exceedingly good, “Bachur vatov” (I Samuel 9:2). Indeed, the Malbim points out that, even though he is a young man, with blood running hot through his veins (“Retichat damo lo shakta”), Shaul is not one to chase his own passions (Malbim on I Samuel 9:2). He is a paragon of humility and restraint. But God’s commandment had been clear—how had Shaul made such a mistake?
I contend that Shaul had no intention to subvert the will of the Divine. He dutifully patterned his actions after those of HaShem, following the dictum in Devarim, “Acharei HaShem Elokeichem telkhu, It is God alone whom you should follow” (Devarim 13:5). Rather, his bewilderment stemmed from a fundamental misunderstanding of HaShem’s priorities, offered with only vague guidance from the prickly Shmuel.
Appropriately, this Haftorah is always recited the Shabbat before Purim, along with a maftir (Devarim 25:17-19) admonishing the people to recall the treachery of Amalek. Haman, of course, is regarded as a descendant of Amalek (and of Agag), whereas Esther and Mordechai are regarded as descendants of King Shaul.
In many ways, the Purim story can be seen as a rectification, a tikkun, of Shaul’s mistakes. Most notably, in Shmuel Aleph, the power of kingship is first given to Shaul, then taken away and given to another. In Megillat Purim, conversely, Haman is first raised to power, but eventually that power is transferred to Mordechai.
How do Esther and Mordechai succeed where Shaul fails?
Tikkun #1: Leadership
Shaul’s leadership, as presented in his initial ascent to kingship, is predicated upon a compromise with the people. Shaul is first introduced as king at Mizpah, when Shmuel admonishes the people, “Masatem et Elokeichem! You have rejected your God” in their demand for a mortal king (I Samuel 10:19). Shaul takes from this the lesson to placate the restless masses, but misses the deeper theological imperatives that HaShem attaches to kingship (as elaborated in a full chapter, I Samuel, Chapter 12). Shaul’s leadership in regard to Amalek is reactive, conforming to the baser instincts of the people and permitting them to plunder the livestock of Amalek.
In stark contrast, Esther’s leadership is rooted in spiritual clarity and moral strength. She calls the people to fasting and reflection, preparing them spiritually for her intercession with the king. Once their battles are fought, the Megillah stresses three different times that the people kept their focus on gratitude rather than on material gain and refrained from taking the spoils of their enemies (Esther 9:10, 9:15, 9:16). Shaul’s leadership caters to the earthly demands of the people, while Esther seeks to elevate the people’s spiritually.
Tikkun #2: Mercy
The concept of mercy is central to both Shaul’s error and Esther’s success. As the nation prepares to welcome their new king, HaShem sets against the people a mighty thunderstorm. Bnei Yisrael plead for their lives, lamenting “ki yasafnu al kol chatoteinu ra’ah lishol lanu melekh, for we have added to all our sins the wickedness of asking for a king” (I Samuel 12:19). Shaul takes note as HaShem mercifully allows the storm to abate but glosses over the fact that they had cried out to HaShem in contrition, and He saw that they were redeemable.
Shaul attempts to re-enact this mercy, sparing Agag (“vayachmol,” 15:9) and delaying his execution. Shaul has missed the point, however, that mercy is only shown to those who seek and have received absolution.
Esther, appropriately, shows no mercy to Haman when he begs her for his life (Esther 7:7). She registers that his plea is grounded not in repentance but in desperation and demonstrates a more nuanced understanding of mercy as tethered to moral accountability and spiritual transformation.
Tikkun #3: Honoring HaShem
Earlier in Shmuel Aleph, Shaul has already found himself in a desperate situation. Shmuel is late in joining him, and Shaul panics that the Philistines might attack before he has a chance to offer a korban (sacrifice) to HaShem. The king decides to present the korban himself, in order to activate HaShem’s assistance. Bad call. Shmuel descends upon him, enraged, proclaiming that his royal dynasty will be terminated. Shaul presumably takes from this the importance of honoring HaShem through korbanot, but he continues to regard the korban as transactional, thereby missing the primary desire of HaShem that we be moved to offer sacrifices in gratitude and awe.
When Shaul later keeps the best animals to offer as sacrifices to HaShem (I Samuel 15:15), we recall that these sacrifices are not described as “olah,” a sacrifice that is burnt at the altar, but rather “zevakh,” indicating offerings that were partially burnt but also prepared and greatly enjoyed by the people who brought them. The honor and benefit goes to the celebrants, not to HaShem.
Esther’s leadership contrasts sharply, as she leads the people in fasting and humbling themselves with grief. Once the danger has passed they rejoice, but also sacrifice from their bounty and make a practice of giving to others (Esther 9:22). They recognize that service of HaShem must come not from outward displays but from an inward alignment with the good.
Amalek is associated spiritually with the yetzer hara (see Zohar 3:160a, among other sources) and manifests differently in every person. Earnest young Shaul suffers from excessive humility and naivete, and the resulting missteps are disastrous. Esther, similarly noted for her innocence and humility, nonetheless musters confidence and conviction and follows the good counsel of Mordechai. She is able to see past a superficial reading of HaShem’s intentions and ferret out the nugget of kedusha at their core, offering a corrective model of leadership, mercy, and true reverence for God.
The paired examination of the leadership of Shaul and Esther calls us to reflect on the nuance in Divine command. As we sift through the layers of meaning in Shmuel and the Megillah, we can seek to uncover the Divine intent in our own lives, striving to honor HaShem in both our hearts and our actions. May we be blessed, like Esther, with a deeper understanding of HaShem and what He asks of us all.
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Jennifer Zukerman is an accomplished nonprofit leader with extensive experience in nonprofit management. She founded and directed an experimental arts organization in 1995 and has since worked as a writer, a museum curator, an educator, and as a board member for the Midwest region of the Anti-Defamation League. She was awarded the Marjorie Susman Curatorial Fellowship at the Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago. Jen is currently the Director of J-STEM, a non-profit organization that enhances educational opportunities for Jewish children in Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics. Jen has a BA in Comparative Literature from Northwestern University and a Master's degree in Arts Administration from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. Jennifer Zukerman is an accomplished nonprofit leader with extensive experience in nonprofit management. She founded and directed an experimental arts organization in 1995 and has since worked as a writer, a museum curator, an educator, and as a board member for the Midwest region of the Anti-Defamation League. She was awarded the Marjorie Susman Curatorial Fellowship at the Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago. Jen is currently the Director of J-STEM, a non-profit organization that enhances educational opportunities for Jewish children in Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics. Jen has a BA in Comparative Literature from Northwestern University and a Master's degree in Arts Administration from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.