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Parashat Bo: Redemption is God's True Power

Of all the commentaries on the Torah, the one that Jews traditionally turn to first is the commentary of Rashi, Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, who lived in France in the eleventh century.  Rashi’s very first comment on the Torah asks this question:

Rabbi Yitzchak said:  The Torah did not need to begin until chapter 12 of Exodus, “This month shall be for you the first of the months.”  He’s referring to the chapter that details the instructions for how to celebrate Pesach in Egypt and then for all time.  Rashi continues:  This is the first commadment that Israel was commanded.

In other words, Rashi asks:  Why do we really need the first sixty-one chapters of the Torah?  It’s a radical suggestion:  Maybe all of Genesis and some of Exodus aren’t really necessary.  Maybe this moment, at the edge of Egypt, is the real beginning.  The verse Rashi mentions says, "This month is for you the first of the months."  This is when time starts.  Not when the world was created.

Now of course Rashi is going to come back eventually with a reason why we need the book of Genesis, and there are actually a few commandments in Genesis.  But still, he entertains this question about when the Torah really begins, and it’s a good, juicy question.

What Rashi is onto is this:  There is something different in the way people experienced God’s presence before the redemption from Egypt, compared to that moment at the edge of leaving Egypt.  Rashi’s question suggests that God’s presence in the world, and for people, was not complete and not really understood until this moment of redemption.  Which was not just a moment for itself, something incredible that happened once, but also a gift that would be new each year, and each time we think back on it.

So what was missing at the beginning, at the start of Genesis?  On the sixth day -- late in the day -- God created the people, the man and the woman.  And God said to them, do you see all these things around you?  All the other animals, and the beautiful trees, and those stars and the sun and the moon up in the sky?  Well before you got here, I made them.  All of them, the whole cosmos.  I started up high in the sky, and I worked my way down here.  All of it, I made all of it -- and for you, in fact!

Isn’t that amazing?  So vast, so enormous.... And there is this one tree, among the many that you see here, over there growing out of the ground, and some fruit grows on it, and I want you not to eat that.

Well, they did eat it.  And things went downhill from there, to murder and violence and destruction, and God scaled back the plan.  Even though the people did multiply quite a lot from the first two, God through Genesis ends up speaking onto to one person at a time.

What happened at the start?  What was missing?  Why didn’t things really start with Adam and Chava?  Maybe it’s just that this idea of the God of the universe is so big that it was just too abstract.  It didn’t really do anything in their hearts, for Adam and Chava.  Maybe the command itself -- don’t eat this one thing -- maybe that didn’t seem big enough, didn’t sound like the kind of thing a great and mighty God would be asking for, as the basis of some kind of connection and relationship.

Elsewhere in his commentary, Rashi picks up on the fact that even for generations after Avraham there isn’t ever a complete sense of who God really is, or could be, beyond one person at a time.

But it’s different when we get to this part of the Torah.  To the end of four centuries of slavery, the very last few days in Egypt.

This isn’t abstract at all.  This isn’t:  Before you arrived I put those stars far out in the sky.  This isn’t:  All I have to do is speak, and a tree or a fish comes into being.

In Egypt, God comes down.  Down in every sense.  Down to the Nile, to the lowest spot in this low valley of Egypt.  Down from the sky into those waters of chaos and death that are carved, down, deep into the lowly Earth.  God comes down to the lowest people, who are beaten and dehumanized, whose hands are muddy and blistered and broken, who are detached from their souls to the point where they can hardly do anything but groan, who can’t think beyond the terrible things of now.

God has to fight for them, against a tyrant who everybody thinks is really the god.  God has to fight for their awareness, to be next to them down in the mud and in their slave-camps and next to the taskmasters, just to get these people even to notice God.  God has to frustrate the expectations of all those who think that gods only go with grandeur like Pharaoh has, the beauty and richness of his palace and his temple and his architecture, the hosts who do his bidding.

This is much harder work than creating the universe.  If you read the Torah, if you compare Bereshit and Shmot, Genesis and Exodus, the way Rashi does, it’s clear that redemption, rescuing these people, takes much longer, it is a much, more, difficult labor than making the world.

And by coming down, God shows us that more is involved than pure power -- than just the abililty to make things and do things.  The task of redemption requires commitment, and loyalty, and dedication.  Rabbi Heschel called it divine pathos:  God’s essence is that God hurts when people hurt.  And when people are enslaved, oppressed, suffering, the hurt is so large that God’s response to that is the largest thing that God does.

And that response is the only thing big enough to go with the notion that God is great.

So Rashi’s question -- why not start the Torah here in Egypt -- it comes from the idea that God’s true nature, the gadol-ness, the greatness that we associate with the notion of God -- it isn’t manifest until God comes down.  As far from Heaven, where you were taught to expect God to be; until God comes down to be there in Egypt, to be here.

And at the moment when the Jews are finally first awake to the fact that God is there for them, God says:  This moment is also going to be there, always, through this story.  So that every time you are oppressed by another Pharaoh, by armies of enemies, or by other kinds of suffering, by illusion or illness or depression, you will know that I come down, I come there, as low as you are or as low as things go.  No matter how much mud or blood or tears as there may be.  I can’t stop those things from happening, God says, but I can and will be there and fight for you to notice Me, to see me fighting there with you.  My colleague Rabbi Sharon Brous was teaching about Pesach and she mentioned a congregant who said that she never understood how it was possible to pray to a warrior God, because she was such a committed pacifist -- until she developed cancer, and needed God to be a warrior on her behalf.

That’s why making the liberation into the beginning of time is the first mitzvah in the Torah.  Time starts when we finally experience Adonai not in the starry heavens but close by.  Bringing back the reality of redemption, of God’s being with us when we most need it, requires action from us.  It’s not just the annual memory on Pesach, but also each Shabbat, when we say in the Kiddush zecher litziyat mitzrayim, that Shabbat is a reminder of going out from Egypt.  And we bring back this redemption each and every day in our prayers, when we say Mi Chamocha, the song our ancestors sang with their feet still wet, still sticky with the mud of the Yam-Suf, the Sea of Reeds.

If you are looking for God, it’s not just about Genesis or who made the world.  The Ten Commandments do not start, “I am the God Who created the universe.”  Instead, they begin, “I am Adonai your God, Who brought you out of the land of Egypt.”  The God in the middle of our prayers is the God of Exodus, the God whose name was revealed finally in Egypt, who rescues and liberates and redeems.  Bayamim ha-hem uvazman hazeh -- in ancient days, and still always.

Parashat Va'era: Knowing God's Name

At the beginning of Parashat Va'era, God says to Moshe:  I appeared to Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaacov as El Shaddai, but I did not make Myself known to them by My name Y-H-V-H (Exodus 6:2).  Rashi explains that the early ancestors had a difference experience of God than the Israelites would in Egypt.  The chassidic commentator Noam Elimelech, Rabbi Elimelech of Lizhensk, elaborates by comparing these two names of God to a mezuza on the doorpost.

Reb Elimelech notes that Shaddai is the name that appears on the case of the mezuza, facing out.  This name represents an outer layer of the experience of God -- for instance, as the exercise of power.  But inside the mezuza, enclosed, is a passage from the Torah and essential name of God, the letters Yod-Hay-Vov-Hay.  This is the "heart", the living Torah and the living God.

From the beginning of the Torah, God is the Creator, and the patriarchs know God that way.  Yet for some reason, they don't always turn toward God at times of trouble.  God addresses them, and they respond.  Only occasionally do they call out to God.  Yitzchak and Rivka do, when they are childless and during her difficult pregnancy.  But Yaakov -- Yisrael -- does not, through years of difficulty in many lands.

The Creator God -- the Almighty, Shaddai -- is not the aspect of God that speaks universally to the heart and draws it near.  If creating the world isn’t enough to wow human beings, then God needed to find something else big enough, important enough, to be a message people would understand about God's true nature.

A great musician is proven by playing the most difficult or intricate repertoire.  A great athlete is tested by the post-season, against the stiffest competition.  So God can’t really be understood just by God's helping out one family, or bringing a season or two of prosperity to the land.

No, God will be understood by coming to the side of a nation in the time of its greatest suffering, its lowest demoralization, against the most powerful tyrant who calls himself a powerful God.  The compassion that God shows now, and the power that God displays against oppression -- these are truly gadol, big and great, in the deepest way.  Even bigger than creating the universe, which after all God did almost without any effort at all.

That’s why God’s name, God’s nature, comes to be known fully only now, in Egypt, for the slaves.  If we want to know God completely, not just in the stars or in the beautiful designs around us, we will know it as compassion when compassion seems least likely.  As strength on our side when there seems to be no strength, and as support when all the weight is on the other side.  Building and making things -- even for human beings this is easy, and so too for God.  These other things often seem impossible.  Only the shadow of Egypt can make us truly appreciate the light that is God.

Preparing for Next Week's NH Primary -- Israel Issues

Next week we will be voting in New Hampshire for the presidential nominees.  One of the important issues for Jews to weigh is how American policy will affect Israel.  Here are statements taken from the official campaign websites of the remaining Republican candidates.  President Obama does not have anything posted on his campaign website, but he does have a record.  I will look for a couple of representative essays supporting and critiquing his record on Israel.

In the meantime, here are some Republican excerpts, verbatim from their websites.  Bear in mind that U.S.-Israel relations are also part of some wider contexts -- energy policy, counterterrorism, the U.S. and the Arab Spring.  You can view excerpts of speeches the candidates gave at a recent Republican Jewish Coalition forum here.

 

Newt Gingrich (no mention of Israel on official website)

Jon Huntsman (no mention of Israel on official website)

Ron Paul (only mention:) ...stopping foreign aid...

Rick Perry

As Governor Perry said during tonight’s debate, “Obviously, Israel is a special ally, and my bet is that we would be funding them at some substantial level. But it makes sense for everyone to come in at zero and make your case.”

Governor Perry is a friend to Israel and understands the challenges faced by the country.  He has visited the country several times and has personal relationships with Israeli leaders.  While in Israel in 2009, he was also awarded the Defender of Jerusalem Award.

Governor Perry recognizes Israel as a unique and vital political and economic partner for the United States in the Middle East.  Our mutual commitment to democracy and free market principles makes us allies in the defense of western civilization.

Governor Perry understands Israel’s security challenges, particularly the threat of Iran, and the need to work together to counter this threat.  Especially after the most recent IAEA report on Iran’s nuclear activity we must not let any daylight show between our two nations.

Governor Perry understands the need to continue to work toward a solution to the Palestinian problem, but does not believe weakening Israel is the road to peace.  A strong Israel is in the best interests of the United States and the region.

Governor Perry believes that the actions by the Palestinians to circumvent the appropriate diplomatic process and go directly to the United Nations to seek a unilateral declaration of statehood is unacceptable and a direct threat to our friend and ally, Israel.

Under Rick Perry’s presidency, any consideration of Palestinian statehood will depend upon a complete recognition of Israel as a Jewish state, the total rejection of terrorism and Palestinian leaders sitting down directly with Israel to negotiate a settlement. The aid and support of the United States will be based on the Palestinians meeting these requirements.

Mitt Romney -- THE MIDDLE EAST AND THE ARAB SPRING: ISRAEL

Israel is the United States’ closest ally in the Middle East and a beacon of democracy and freedom in the region. The tumult in the Middle East has heightened Israel’s security problems.

Indeed, this is an especially dangerous moment for the Jewish state. It has deteriorating relationships with Turkey and Egypt. It faces longstanding dangers from Hamas in Gaza, Hezbollah in Lebanon, a violent and highly unstable Syria, and a nuclear-aspiring Iran whose leadership is openly calling for Israel’s annihilation.

To ensure Israel’s security, Mitt Romney will work closely with Israel to maintain its strategic military edge. The United States will work intensively with Turkey and Egypt to shore up the now fraying relationships with Israel that have underpinned peace in the Middle East for decades. The United States must forcefully resist the emergence of anti-Israel policies in Turkey and Egypt, and work to make clear that their interests are not served by isolating Israel.

With regard to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, Romney’s policy will differ sharply from President Obama’s. President Obama and his administration have badly misunderstood the dynamics of the region. Instead of fostering stability and security, they have diminished U.S. authority and painted both Israel and ourselves into a corner. President Obama for too long has been in the grip of several illusions. One is that the Israeli-Palestinian dispute is the central problem in the region. This has been disproved repeatedly by events, most recently and most dramatically by the eruption of the Arab Spring. But it nonetheless led the administration to believe that distancing the United States from Israel was a smart move that would earn us credits in the Arab world and somehow bring peace closer. The record proves otherwise. The key to negotiating a lasting peace is an Israel that knows it will be secure. 

The administration’s errors extend in other directions as well. President Obama has repeatedly and unilaterally created new preconditions for restarting peace talks. The result has been to encourage Palestinians simply to hold out and wait for Washington to deliver more Israeli concessions on a silver platter. Why, after all, should the Palestinians even negotiate with Israel if the White House is pressuring Israel without extracting any price from the Palestinians in return?

As president, Romney will reject any measure that would frustrate direct negotiations between Israel and the Palestinians. He will make clear to the Palestinians that the unilateral attempt to decide issues that are designated for final negotiations by the Oslo Accords is unacceptable. The United States will reduce assistance to the Palestinians if they continue to pursue United Nations recognition or form a unity government that includes Hamas, a terrorist group dedicated to Israel’s

destruction. The United States needs a president who will not be a fair-weather friend of Israel. The United States must work as a country to resist the worldwide campaign to delegitimize Israel. We must fight against that campaign in every forum and label it the anti-Semitic poison that it is. Israel’s existence as a Jewish state is not up for debate.

Rick Santorum

[W]e must cease our verbal, moral, and diplomatic equivalence as between good and evil. Syria does not deserve an ambassador; its protesters deserve support; Israeli housing starts should not be put on the same moral plane as Hamas terror attacks; and China should be challenged on religious liberty rather than be given a veto on the human-rights activists we wish support.

...we must stand by Israel, especially at a time when it appears increasingly to be standing alone. The recent dislocation of the old order in the Middle East will usher in a new one, and anti-Israeli elements are working overtime to take advantage of the opportunity.

The Superhero Primary

A great thanks and yasher koach to Darren Garnick, reporter and political junkie, for sending me this piece to link to!  Darren's article for theatlantic.com is called "Republicans in Tights:  Behind the Scenes of the 'Superhero Primary'". His son Ari, age 9, asked the Republican candidates for president about their favorite superheroes. 

 

Shabbat Chanuka: The Kavannah of Giving

Like most rabbis, I dislike the way so much of the focus of Chanuka shifts from the nerot, the lights, to the presents kids receive.

But I also know that giving, at any time, is a profound Jewish act.  Last week during Shabbat evening services, we davvened in our small chapel.  Usually one of the members passes around the wine and grape juice when it's time to sing the Kiddush.  Sometimes when we're in the chapel, the tray is nearest to me and I carryng it around.  Last Shabbat I felt a tremendous kavvanah, a spiritual focus, as I brought the tray around, stopped by each person or two, and extended the tray to them to take a small cup.  In those couple of minutes, I felt that I was being given a great privilege.  That I was fortunate to be the one that night to give a cup of something so sweet -- to have just a small moment of giving -- to each and every person in the room.

There is at least a small connection between Chanuka and giving.  During Shabbat Chanuka, we always read from the story of Yosef.  This week in Parashat Miketz, Yosef is elevated to the position of Pharaoh's vizier, his chief of staff, second in power only to Pharaoh.  When famine strikes in Canaan, his brothers come down to Egypt for food.  To procure food to bring home, they end up having to appear before Yosef, whom they don't recognize in his Egyptian clothing.

The twisting road of reconciliation between Yosef and his brothers is told, this week and next, through a series of acts of giving.  The food that Yosef sends them home with, the coins that he hides in their bags.

The word in Hebrew for the food-provisions that the brothers seek is shever.  The same word means "broken."  How interesting!  The brothers come to seek shever/provisions, and they land in front of the person they have the most shever/broken relationship with.  In order for Yosef to find a way to forgive, and to bring the family back together, he has to transform the brokenness into giving.  Initially, he uses giving as another power with which to manipulate his brothers.  Eventually, Yosef's love for them and for his father will overcomes all the history, and he wants nothing more than to be together and to feed his family.

Giving is not instantly or automatically redemptive or healing.  But on Chanuka, I just notice that giving is a part of Yosef's process of healing.  It's a modality he has to use, and to learn how to use.

So too, gifts on Chanuka can be gratuitous, wasteful, spoiling, and over the top.  Or, in the right proportion and with the right kavvanah or focus, the giving of gifts can be filled with love.  For the giver, even more than the receiver, the act of giving a present is a moment to savor.  With gratitude for being able to give something that sweetens the candlelighting even more.  Giving gifts is not what Chanuka is about.  But it too can be a moment of light.