Living with Doubt: Amalek, Anxiety, & ACT

Human beings crave certainty. We want to know that we are safe, that our choices are correct, and that the future will unfold in a predictable manner. However, much of life remains unknown and our future hangs in the balance. The discomfort we feel when we are faced with uncertainty, anxiety, can escalate to unhealthy levels, significantly impacting our lives. But how does one manage their anxiety, especially when faced with immense doubts? How does one forge forward instead of cowering in fear?

One approach to conquering anxiety is derived from Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT), the psychological treatment modality I use most frequently with my clients. Fascinatingly, the foundations of ACT can be found both in this week’s Torah portion as well as in the holiday of Purim. During these uncertain times for the Jewish people, we can glean the lessons of these days of how to live with anxiety. 

After the Giving of the Torah, the Jewish people became worried about Moshe’s fate when he was seemingly delayed from descending the mountain. Rather than tolerating their discomfort, they demanded that Aaron make them a god, a molten calf. After its creation, they declared, “These (eleh) are your gods, O’ Israel, which brought you up from the land of Egypt (Ex. 32:4).” 

The Zohar (Bereishit 2a) ingeniously interprets the words beginning this declaration as representative to the Jewish peoples’ sin. “These (eleh)” represents something tangible, something that can be defined, seen and felt. The sin of the chet HaEgel, according to the Zohar, was that the Jewish people tried coping with the uncertainty of Moshe’s fate by manufacturing definitude. 

In fact, the Zohar notes that all of religious life is predicated on the fact that the Divine remains ever elusive and unknown. God’s name, Elohim, is composed of the two words “mi” (“who”) and “eleh” (“these”). “Mi” is an expression of the ineffable while “eleh,” as mentioned above,” signifies certainty. “Mi” and “eleh” must always be linked; every sense of understanding of God must be tempered with the recognition of His transcendence.  

It is no coincidence that Moshe’s response to the sinners was “Whoever (mi) is on the Lord’s side, let them come to me” (32:26). Moshe was reminding the Jewish peoples’ quest for certainty (eleh), with God’s ineffability (mi).[1] Similarly, the red heifer, the mitzva that serves as an atonement of the sin of the golden calf, is characterized as the quintessential chok, a law devoid of apparent rational explanation. If the golden calf represents false certainty, then its antidote must surely relate to tolerating uncertainty. 

The primary manner in which people try to cope with their anxiety is to remove their doubt. For some, this looks like avoidance. If you are anxious in social settings, a simple “solution” may be to avoid social gatherings. If one feels nervous about being vulnerable to their spouse, one may try to keep the subject matter of their conversations at surface-level. Others engage in incessant reassurance-seeking  behaviors. “Are you sure nothing bad will happen?” is something someone with anxiety about an impending event may repeat. Yet others engage in rumination, compulsions, or perfectionism. The common denominator of all of these ineffective coping strategies is that they are all forms of attempting to gain certainty in an inherently uncertain reality. They may temporarily alleviate anxiety, but they are far from an effective long-term method.

A much more useful approach is the subject of Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT), a psychological framework that teaches individuals to accept doubt rather than compulsively try to eliminate it. ACT does not aim to provide certainty but rather encourages individuals to commit to live according to their values despite uncertainty. Often, living a value-driven life will provide long-term decrease in distressing symptoms, but that is not the aim of the approach. ACT teaches one to live with doubts as opposed to trying to remove them. 

The quest to eliminate uncertainty is precisely what Amalek, the ancestors of Haman, exploits. When the Jewish people doubt God’s presence, saying “Is God among us or not?”, Amalek immediately attacks (Ex. 17:7-8). This is no coincidence. The force of Amalek in the world is one that thrives on safek (doubt), as reflected in their gematria (numerical value) equaling 240, the same as safek. 

Amalek instills paralysis. It whispers the debilitating question, “But how can you be absolutely sure?”—a question that lies at the heart of anxiety disorders but is present to some degree amongst us all. Individuals struggling with anxiety experience intrusive doubts that demand resolution: “What if I fail? What if something bad happens? Am I making the right decision?” They engage in behaviors to find certainty, but the relief is short-lived. Just as the Jews at Sinai sought security in a false god, individuals with anxiety seek security in behaviors that ultimately reinforce their fears. The more they seek certainty, the more elusive it becomes.

The antidote to this eternal battle with the psychological torment with Amalek can be found within the Torah text that describes the physical war with Amalek, traditionally read on Purim morning. “Whenever Moshe held up his hand, Israel prevailed; but whenever he let down his hand, Amalek prevailed” (Ex. 17:11). According to Rabbi Yehudah Aryeh Leib Alter, in his Sefas Emes, the lifting of Moshe’s hands over his head represents the primacy of action over intellect.[2] The path towards defeating Amalek’s venomous doubt is not to try to eradicate it, but to ACT (as the name of the modality purposefully suggests) according to one’s values, even when one is plagued by obsessive worry. 

These same themes are present in the holiday of Purim as well. The Megillah is unique among biblical texts in that God’s name does not appear. There are no open miracles, no divine voice ensuring victory, no elimination of doubt. Instead, Esther and Mordechai act without certainty. “Who (mi) knows, perhaps you have attained to royal position for just such a crisis,” Mordechai tells Esther (Esther 4:14). Once again, “mi” stands in direct contrast to “These (eleh) are your gods“—it injects mystery and living with doubt instead of absolute resolution. 

The Jews of Shushan, too, rather than waiting for a divine guarantee, recommit to the Torah (kiyemu v’kiblu), choosing faith without absolute clarity (Shabbat 88a). We reaffirm the idea of living in accordance to one’s values even in the face of doubt every year during our Purim celebrations. “A person is obligated to drink on Purim until he does not know the difference between ‘cursed be Haman’ and ‘blessed be Mordechai’,” says the Talmud (Megillah 7b). On Purim we temporarily suspend our intellect, the source of nagging obsessional doubt, to highlight the idea that we do not live in accordance with our obsessions and fears, but in line with the person we want to be. 

In treating anxiety disorders, I often remind patients that the goal is not to achieve certainty but to develop the ability to live with doubt. Certainty is an illusion—one that anxiety constantly undermines. Instead of engaging in behaviors that seek to eliminate doubt, we work toward value-based living: What kind of person do you want to be? What life do you want to live, even in the presence of doubt? 

This is precisely what Judaism demands in the ongoing battle against Amalek. The Torah commands us: “Zachor et asher asah lecha Amalek” (“Remember what Amalek did to you”)—not merely as historical recollection, but as a psychological and spiritual imperative. To defeat Amalek means to move forward in faith, even when doubt persists.

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[1] See Be Become Blessed by Rav Yakov Nagen p. 136.

[2] Year 1847 s.v. mah shekavu. I thank Rabbi Aryeh Cohen for directing me to this source.