The plague
of darkness is described in this week’s parasha, Bo. It was a darkness that was so thick that an
individual living in Egypt could feel it!
It was a darkness that separated one from his fellow human beings and no
doubt caused a great sense of paralysis and fear.
That
darkness that was inflicted upon the Egyptians was a result of their treatment
of the Israelites. By working individuals
relentlessly, denying the Israelites their human rights the Egyptians merited a
plague that resembled the light that they had removed from the world. If an Egyptian needed help, there was none to
be given because the darkness that enveloped them was so thick.
Sometimes
when I think about the darkness that occurred, I wonder if it was not merely a
physical manifestation of a spiritual ailment that already had inflicted the
Egyptians. Their leadership, as embodied
by Pharoah, was already covered in darkness.
He did not care about anything except his own power and grandeur. He did not worry that his people might suffer
as-a-result of his actions, nor did he care that those who were considered strangers
in his land would suffer at his hands.
It is said
that the Israelites did have light even during the plague of darkness and that
light went wherever they went. So, if an
Israelite were to go into the home of an Egyptian, the Egyptian would take note
of the light brought by the Israelite.
This interpretation of the plague of darkness was offered by a
commentator known as the Ohr HaChayim, who was born in Morocco and lived in
Italy and Jerusalem in the 1700’s. With
a spiritual reading of this text, one can see that no matter how much darkness exists
in the world, no matter how spiritually bankrupt others are, no matter what
darkness is spread by individuals in places of power, the light of moral acting
individuals cannot not be diminished.
As Jews,
much of what we are seeing evolve on the world stage does seem like
darkness. There is political, religious,
racial, economic, and ethnic discord. We
are see suffering in parts of the world that are both near and far away. We know that many of us are missing long
lists of relatives either because of the pogroms in the Pale of Settlement in
the late 19th and early 20th centuries or because of the
atrocities perpetrated during the Holocaust. We know that many of us live here
in America because our own relatives were fortunate enough to leave their
homelands and come to the shores of this country with the bare minimum for
starting life over again. We should know what it is like when darkness becomes
prevalent and we should know what happens if we let go of the light that is
part of our spiritual legacy.
In what ways
did the Israelites maintain their light?
It is said that the women of that generation were examples of light and
thus were the reason for the redemption that occurred. The midwives Shifra and Puah who were ordered
to kill any male babies they delivered, refused to do so. In the haggadah we are told that the Israelite
women went to the fields where their husbands had labored during the day and
cohabited with them, producing new life even in midst of horrendous conditions.
What this says to me is that the value we placed on life was paramount and the
hope we maintained for a better future never ceased. There was another result of our experience in
Egypt and it is something that has come to define Judaism today.
Rabbi Ed
Feinstein explained it in the following way:
“As slaves in Egypt, we
experienced ultimate social invisibility. We were unseen, un-valued, inconsequential,
socially erased. The bitterness of slavery stayed with us, and an exquisite
social ethic grew from it. Egyptian slavery taught to see the Other, and to see
ourselves in the Other, to identify with the pain and plight of the Other. This
is an ethic of empathy: “You shall not wrong a stranger or oppress
him, for you were strangers in the
land of Egypt. (Ex 23:5) Exodus Judaism is an identity rooted
in moral aspiration, a social vision for the world. To be a Jew is to build a
world where no human being is ever relegated to invisibility.”
Our
experience of having been strangers in a land that was not our own was a
life-changing experience for us, one that taught us forever how to care for the
stranger in our midst. The Torah’s
teaching is not a political statement.
It is an ethical precept that is meant to transcend political
boundaries. May we as Jews of all political stripes, never forget the core
narrative of our shared legacy. May we
always work to ensure the well-being of the strangers in our midst and those
striving for safe passage to a life that is free from danger. Let us remember that no matter how much
darkness prevails in this world, we as Jews are here to provide light. We are here to serve as a beacon that will
never allow any group of individuals seeking refuge to feel as if they are
invisible. We must remember our own Jewish experience as strangers and use it
to inform our behavior and moral stances as we are faced with victims of terror
and war who now in need of our help.
Shabbat
Shalom.
No comments:
Post a Comment