וְ֠אַתָּ֠ה אַל־תִּירָ֞א עַבְדִּ֤י יַֽעֲקֹב֙ וְאַל־תֵּחַ֣ת יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל כִּ֠י הִנְנִ֤י מוֹשִֽׁעֲךָ֙ מֵרָח֔וֹק וְאֶֽת־זַרְעֲךָ֖ מֵאֶ֣רֶץ שִׁבְיָ֑ם וְשָׁ֧ב יַעֲק֛וֹב וְשָׁקַ֥ט וְשַׁאֲנַ֖ן וְאֵ֥ין מַחֲרִֽיד׃
But you, have no fear, My servant Jacob, Be not dismayed, O Israel! I will deliver you from far away, your folk from their land of captivity; Jacob again shall have calm and quiet, with none to trouble them (Jeremiah 46.27)
In this third and final year of the Triennial Cycle for Torah reading and study, our parashat hashavua brings us to a terrible, inevitable moment:
וַיְהִ֣י ׀ בַּחֲצִ֣י הַלַּ֗יְלָה וַֽיהֹוָה֮ הִכָּ֣ה כׇל־בְּכוֹר֮ בְּאֶ֣רֶץ מִצְרַ֒יִם֒ מִבְּכֹ֤ר פַּרְעֹה֙ הַיֹּשֵׁ֣ב עַל־כִּסְא֔וֹ עַ֚ד בְּכ֣וֹר הַשְּׁבִ֔י אֲשֶׁ֖ר בְּבֵ֣ית הַבּ֑וֹר וְכֹ֖ל בְּכ֥וֹר בְּהֵמָֽה׃
In the middle of the night יהוה struck down all the first-born in the land of Egypt, from the first-born of Pharaoh who sat on the throne to the first-born of the captive who was in the dungeon, and all the first-born of the cattle. (Ex. 12.29)
Encountering this narrative now it is easy to understand: this is the denouement, the last of ten awful plagues that killed many innocents, and destroyed a great and sophisticated civilization. The Torah itself shows us the toll that evil takes on so many who had no choice in the matter – which is one symbolic meaning of the death of all first born, right down to the animals. There is no balance here, no sense of cause and effect that can be justified; here there is only tragedy.
Our ancient teachers established this Pesakh story as central to our Jewish identity formation. Every year we recount and remember. Pesakh will come soon enough, but for now as we read the story in the regular minhag, without the stress of arranging a Seder, we have a moment to stop and consider. What are we supposed to learn? Why is this story so central to who we are meant to be?
As always, we bring ourselves, our experience and our context to this moment of Torah encounter. It is not difficult to see the evil of the ancient Pharaoh in acts of the present President and those who surround him; it is terribly easy to behold the plagues that are being let loose upon many innocents.
What we don’t have in these moments is a sense of the denouement; where might there be a turning point? What should we be aiming at, or fighting for, or, even, believing in? In other words, we do not know how many plagues to expect, nor how to anticipate them.
Rabbi Yosei the Galilean says, “Ten plagues were inflicted upon the Egyptians in Egypt, as it is said (Exodus 8:15), ‘It is the finger of God.’ How many plagues are there in one finger? Ten plagues. Henceforth, it should be said that at the sea, fifty plagues were inflicted upon them, as it is said (Exodus 14:31), ‘And Israel saw the great hand.’ A hand has five fingers.” Rabbi Eliezer says, “There were forty plagues, as it is said (Exodus 8:15), ‘It is the finger of God.‘ Tetragon was there, and there were forty plagues in Egypt. And at the sea, two hundred plagues were inflicted upon them, as it is said (Exodus 15:8), ‘His anger sent against them burning hot, fury, and indignation, and distress, a company of destroying angels.’ One distress, two angers, three afflictions, and four companies of destroying angels. Hence, there were two hundred plagues that were inflicted upon them at the sea, as it is said (Exodus 14:31), ‘And Israel saw the great hand which the Lord had used against the Egyptians.’ – Midrash Tehillim 78.10
In this midrash the rabbis envision the spreading effects of tragedy; how can events be defined, and counted? Once unleashed, evil spreads, and multiplies in so many unforeseen ways. They are reminding us that even though in retrospect it seems easy to see what is happening, at the terrible moment, everything is writ large and terrifying.
These are the days that our poetic Jewish tradition was made for: the idea of a single candle in the great darkness is a precious image that reminds us that our work is to keep the light burning. We are first to focus upon what brings light, and then to learn the reality of what it is we see – and who we are that are seeing. We bring our experience, our perspective, our context, with us. It is who we are as human beings; and when we bring the values and ethical guidelines of our people’s ancient teachings with us, it is who we can be as Jews.
Our parashah is called Bo, the imperative form of the verb “come.” Why “come” and not “go”, our ancestors already asked. Because, they answered, “go to Pharaoh” was tried and failed. Moshe had to learn how to “come to Pharaoh” – that is, recognize the Pharaoh in oneself – in order to understand how to act.
Everywhere you turn, people are saying “do something. We have to do something.” But we do not do well when we do not see. We must take time to ask ourselves:
What do you think you have to do, and how are you making the decision?
What do you actually know about what you want to do, and how to do it?
Who else is doing what you want to do, and what can you learn?
Who are you who is seeking to act, and out of what sensibility?
We do not choose the times we live in, but we do have a choice in how to respond – this is the last freedom of the human being. Some will respond to the spreading evil of this moment as citizens of the world. Some will stand upon their sense of belonging to the United States. Some will call their actions those of a leftist, or of a progressive, a liberal, or a conservative.
You are invited to consider your actions as a Jew. Not interchangeable with a Christian on the left, nor with an activist among the progressives, nor, for those who pass as white, with a WASP.
Jews care about immigrants, because we have so often been immigrants.
Jews defend trans rights, because we respect the Image of G*d in all human beings as HaShem made us.
Jews seek the welfare of the vulnerable, imaged as the “widow, orphan, homeless poor” whom we are commanded to include in our lives and our resources.
Jews encompass all of human expression: Black and brown and white, cis and trans, female and male and nonbinary and questioning, able-bodied and disabled, believing and doubting and heretical, rich and poor. As we assert in our prayer for our country, “we are all equally blessed in the light of HaShem’s presence.”
We are lucky to have this grounding to steady us when we seek it. May you find it with community, in kindness, that will lend you strength to see, and to act in ways that will spread not the effects of plagues, but of healing.
