B'shallach -- 5775

At their most desperate hour, sandwiched between two ways to die, the Israelites accuse Moses of delivering them to their demise.  In turn, Moses tells them to wait for help.  “YHVH will battle for you.  Hold your peace!”  (Exodus 14:14).  God’s astounding answer?  “Why do you cry out to Me?” (Exodus 14:15).

It’s a very human pattern:  we take credit for what’s good in our lives, and blame others (including God) for what’s wrong.  When we’re healthy, it’s because we’ve taken care of ourselves.  When we’re sick, we ask “why did God do this to me?”  When we get a great job, it’s because we are talented and prepared.  When we get fired, it’s because our boss always had it out for us.  When we get a date, it’s because we’re handsome, interesting, or “in a good place.”  When we get dumped, it’s because “they were a jerk.”  Doing so preserves our egos.  It also maintains our vision of an ordered universe, where things happen for a reason and everyone gets what they deserve.  Both mental structures help us function in the world, even if they are inaccurate.

The Israelites blame Moses; Moses awaits God.  God requires, instead, that they take responsibility for their own situation (“tell the Israelites to go forward”) and claim their own power (“lift up your rod and hold out your arm over the sea and split it”) [14:15-16]. 

You are a Child of God, a worthy creature.  Claim your own power, instead of giving it away to other people and forces.  Claim your power to improve your life -- and also to damage it.  Others can undoubtedly impact us but we, more than anyone else, are responsible for what happens in our own lives.  Walk into the water.  Raise your staff.  Make your move.

Bo -- 5775

The death of the first born is upsetting.  “In the middle of the night YHVH struck down all the [male] 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” (Exodus 12:29-30).  Why does God kill children and captives?  Since neither group oppressed the Hebrews, how can this be right? 

Rashi, clearly troubled by the decree, suggests that the captives had rejoiced at Israel’s adversity.  A captive, knowing that his own servitude will end, can hold himself above a life-long slave.  And, Rashi continues, God included them lest they think that their “god” was the one “who brought this punishment on Egypt.”  The deaths make the statement that no other force has the power to redeem.

What about the Egyptian children?  Surely, they were in no way responsible for Hebrew slavery.  But, as Rabbi Robin Podolsky points out, Egyptian children did benefit from the oppressive system – from the nanny who played with them to the superior nutrition they received.  The story reminds us that injustice affects us all; no one is immune.

If this is so, why was Pharaoh spared?  Surely Pharaoh was himself first born, and surely the man at the apex of power should suffer most.  Rashi notices that God has declared “’I have spared you for this purpose: in order to show you My power’ at the Sea of Reeds” (Exodus 9:16).  Pharaoh isn’t pardoned.  His punishment is purposefully postponed.

Vaeira -- 5775

“Moses was eighty years old and Aaron eighty-three, when they made their demand on Pharaoh” (Exodus 7:7).

Surprised?  You would be if you’d seen the current movie Exodus:  Gods and Kings.  When he returns to Egypt to plead for the Hebrew’s release, Christian Bale’s Moses is haggard, but barely scraping his forties.  The film is flawed in many ways, and we understand that the star system denies us Sean Connery (84), Clint Eastwood (84), or Donald Southerland (79) as the lead in an action flick.  Still, what a different perspective the Torah provides on the encounter between Moses and Pharaoh:  two grizzled elders rather than strong-men.  Having lived long, they are more concerned with the fate of nations than their own.

No wonder, then, that the octogenarian leaders were so set in their ways.  Not for them the vagaries and vacillations of youth.

Each of us harbors within a 100 year old self, an aspect of our personhood who has lived well and fully, seen it all, and knows what’s best.  When faced with a challenge or struggle, consider consulting your own inner sage.  Breathe deeply, get centered, and picture yourself learned and astute.  Ask that senior self a question, then wait to see what wisdom he or she would share with you. 

When confronted by the Sturm und Drang of contemporary life, he or she would probably tell us to relax, that the stakes aren’t as high as we think – unless the fate of a nation rests in the outcome.