Parashat Bo

Parashat Bo
Shevat 4, 5772 ~ January 28, 2012
Todd Wilkof

Shimurim Nights

“It is a night of ‘shimurim’ for Hashem to bring them out from the land of Mitzrayim: this was Hashem’s night; a ‘shimurim’ for all the Children of Israel for their generations.” Parsha Bo, 12:42

The verse quoted above is one of many in Parsha Bo that refers to the night of Pesach. Most if not all of these references are prescriptive- they address the what, when and why of the commandment to observe Pesach.

But this passage seems different. I suggest that it serves as a central source text to the Haggadah itself, and that the Haggadah’s authors divined an inner logic in these lines that guided them in their composition.

The Haggadah’s authors might have been particularly struck by the juxtaposition of the double use of the word shimurim: “A night of shimurim for Hashem” and a “shimurim for all the Children of Israel for their generations.” The juxtaposition insists on a unique relationship between the two nights and it is this relationship which the Haggadah captures and elaborates upon. The authors manage to evoke the full range of possible meanings of shimurim and then explore and dramatize our relationship to those meanings within the Seder experience. That is a mouthful, I admit. Let’s see if we can make sense of it.

Let’s begin with how our commentators understood the word shimurim.

Rashi identifies the word as a derivative of ‘lishmor’- to guard, translating Leil Shimurim as a “night of keepings.” Since G-d always had the redemption from Egypt in mind, and had in effect penciled in the date, a night of shimurim for Hashem is to be understood as Hashem having kept this night in memory until its ultimate fulfillment.

The Ramban agrees with Rashi’s translation and adds to it. He suggests that shimurim is used as it was in Parsha Vayeshev. Upon hearing Yosef’s dreams, the brothers were jealous of him but his father “shamar et hadavar.” Yakov, that is, not merely kept the matter of the dreams in mind, he ‘waited expectantly’ for their fulfillment. In the same way, a night of shimurim implies that Hashem kept in mind and eagerly awaited the time when the Children of Israel would be worthy of redemption

In another translation, the Ibn Ezra comments that ‘Leil Shimurim' should be understood literally, as a night of ‘watchfulness.’ G-d “watched over” Am Yisrael to ensure that the final plague, the killing of the firstborn, passed over them.

The Or HaChaim HaKodosh‘s sense of the term is a slight variation of these others, suggesting the night of shimurim indicates a particular night that Hashem “reserved” for miraculous occurrences. He sights five miracles that are alluded to in each line of the verse:

“It is a night reserved for miracles:” Abraham defeated four kings with only 318 men

“To bring them out from the land of Mitzrayim” -Hashem kills the first born at midnight

“This was Hashem’s night”- In the days of Chikiyahu, the angel Gabriel smote the army of Sancheriv on this very same night of the escape from Egypt

"A night of shimurim for all the Children of Israel”- King Achashveirosh could not sleep on this night. This event led to the downfall of Haman

“For their generations”- the future redemption of the Jewish People.

And still another understanding of shimurim comes from a teaching in Shemot Rabbah (18:11). Commenting on our verse, the Beit HaLevi says “In this world, He performs miracles for the Jews at night, for they are transient miracles. In the future, He will perform miracles for them by day, for they will be permanent miracles.”

This Talmud teaching goes on to explain why the redemption from Egypt must be considered a lesser, transient miracle. The departure from Egypt, says the Beit HaLevi, was granted to Am Yisrael prematurely. It took place at the end of 210 years of slavery, not the 400 years originally decreed and prophesized to Avraham. (Many commentators disagree with the 210 year calculation) This “early” redemption came because the Israelites were spiritually degenerating so fast that they threatened to become irredeemable had the Almighty waited any longer. When The Talmud calls 'Leil Shimurim' “a night of watching” it is emphasizing this tempered and incomplete nature of the redemption from Egypt. Shimurim here suggests an observing of the night’s events as an act of waiting for the greater liberation to come; Hashem executes the action while keeping in mind that an outstanding debt of exile remains unpaid.

On Pesach night we hearken back to G-d’s ‘Leil Shimurim,’ guided by a text that manages to include and interweave all the meanings our commentators uncovered. We explore themes that recount His “keepings,” His “expectant waiting,” His “watchfulness,” His “miraculous protection” and His “anticipation of a full and final redemption.” But of course a Seder requires much more than a recounting of these themes. It is to be a night set aside for all generations; it is to be a collective experience; it is to be observed by worshipping Him through the eating of the Passover-offering, the remembering of miracles and the reciting of praise and thanksgiving. The Haggadah’s authors needed to introduce all these obligations into our Seder experience. Moreover they needed to construct the text in a way that would allow generations of readers to personally identify with and internalize these obligations.

I suggest the authors determined that this passage from Bo had something essential to teach about how to embed these multiple obligations within the Haggadah. When they looked into the construction of this passage they saw a seamless interchange between two dimensions, G-d’s experience of His night and the night to be experienced by the “Children of Israel for their generations.” Reacting to the absence of an “and“ in the passage, that would mark a separation between the two nights, they discovered that the commandment to commemorate Pesach could best be achieved by connecting the two dimensions as one. Then they designed the Seder experience to do just that. G-d’s night of shimurim demonstrates an exertion of His direct involvement, out of faithfulness and compassion for Israel- and so the authors assured that during our night of shimurim we too exert personal involvement, faithfulness and compassion for Him. As His night demonstrated that all natural forces are at His disposal, so the Haggadah invites us to deploy discussion, exploration, questioning, imagination, tactile experience, thanks, praise and so on to demonstrate the full range and depth of our resources. And just as Hashem experienced His night with eyes that saw both the past and the future in a single vision, so our Seder night merges our history into a future vision of a world under His sovereignty.

The Sages that predated our Haggadah saw the journey from slavery to freedom as the seminal moment marking our eternal covenantal relationship with G-d. They taught that Pesach’s commemoration requires that we see ourselves as though we made this journey, actively experiencing it rather than merely recounting the Exodus story year after year. The authors of the Haggadah then determined that the obligation to draw these two lessons together is the heart of the Seder. Through text and ritual they created a way of describing, dramatizing and ultimately experiencing the inextricable role G-d and man play together in the redemption process. What they made possible is a night of shimurim for Hashem, a shimurim for all the Children of Israel for their generations.

With Thanks to Rav David Milston (The Three Pillars, Sefer Shemot) for his discussion on the multiple interpretations of the word shimurim.

Parashat Va'era

Parashat Va’era
Tevet 26, 5772 ~ January 20, 2012
Jay Koppelman

Several years ago a hideous crime, a parent’s dreaded nightmare, was brought dramatically to the attention of the American public. A thirteen year old boy, apparently much loved, was kidnapped from a quiet neighborhood where he lived. The only clue was a general description of a rapidly speeding vehicle racing through the otherwise quiet neighborhood.

Working from that description, the police were able to identify a number of suspect vehicles which eventually lead them to the kidnapper. Thankfully, along with the kidnapper they discovered the kidnapped boy apparently safe and in good health. But along with that discovery they uncovered yet another long unsolved kidnapping. They found a second victim who had been held by the very same kidnapper for over four years.

That child, it turned out, had been allowed a fair amount of independence and yet had never reached out to seek his parents. How can this be so? Not so surprising, after all, say psychologists who tell us that this is not at all uncommon. They call it the Stockholm Syndrome which only tells us that it is common enough to have a name – a name we probably all recognize.

Psychologists tell us that in order to survive in wretched circumstances we tend to identify with and accept things we can’t change. Kidnapped children, abused spouses and oppressed people in all sorts of situations, whether oppressed as individuals or collectively as groups or even as whole populations come to accept some of the worst conditions imaginable with a degree of equanimity because to do otherwise would have horrible consequences.

And what has this to do with Va’eira the second parsha in the Book of Exodus? In this parsha we find Hashem speaking to Moshe telling him of his plan to take the Children of Israel out of slavery in Egypt, to redeem them and take them for his own chosen people and then to deliver them to the Land of Israel thus fulfilling his promise to Avraham, Yitzhak and Yaacov.

The parsha then goes on to relate how Hashem instructs a still reluctant Moshe how to approach Pharaoh in his bid to free the Jewish slaves and then describes the powers Moshe ultimately employs in his confrontations with Pharaoh and his court. And finally it describes the first seven plagues that Hashem turns upon the Egyptians.

For over 200 years the Jews had suffered in slavery. But the prospect of following the lead of Moshe to seek their freedom was not a welcome one. They had made their accommodation with the ugly reality of their existence and feared the consequences of a search for freedom. We saw in Shemot how the Jews rejected Moshe’s bid for leadership on their behalf and here we see it once again.

“Moshe spoke thus to the children of Israel, but they did not hearken to Moshe because of [their] shortness of breath and because of [their] hard labor. The Lord spoke to Moshe, saying, ‘Come, speak to Pharaoh, the king of Egypt, and he will let the children of Israel out of his land.’ But Moshe spoke before the Lord, saying, ‘Behold, the children of Israel did not hearken to me. How then will Pharaoh hearken to me, seeing that I am of closed lips?’”

The Jews were a people out of breath, out of spirit and consumed with their labors. They had fully accommodated to their horribly unchangeable reality and couldn’t see a way to call out to Hashem though he was nearer than they could ever imagine. Even with the power of Hashem at his disposal, Moshe still couldn’t really conceive that he could succeed on the Jews’ behalf.

Well we are here today, living our lives as Jews because ultimately Moshe did undertake his leadership role and the Jews followed, though with ambivalence and reluctance. Thankfully, our burden today is not to escape from slavery though we do have enormous tasks before us. Today we have much to do to help secure the survival of Israel and to build a Jewish community that will carry the mitzvot forward to future generations. We must banish any ill conceived sense that we cannot do these things. We can do these things. Hashem is nearer than we can ever imagine.

Parashat Shemot

Parashat Shemot
Tevet 19, 5772 ~ January 14, 2012
Dan Cohen

Just like that…we were slaves

As the second of the five books begins, we see a rapid fire succession of noteworthy events (all foreshadowing the birth of Moshe) in the initial aliyah. First, Jacob’s sons, including Joseph, pass away. Second, their offspring become many and strong (though they begin a rapid assimilation). Third, Pharaoh sees this and seeks to change the dynamic quickly – and uses enslavement, hard labor, and other punitive measures to try to stop the growth and influence of the Jewish people.

One line captures the moment in which the switch was flipped…

“A new king arose over Egypt, who did not know about Joseph.” Shemot 1:8

There is a debate whether it was a new king or it was the old king with a new agenda. Rashi looks at it and says, “Since the Torah does not say: The king of Egypt died, and a new king arose, it implies that the old king was still alive, only that his policies had changed, and he acted like a new king.” Rashi on Sotah 11a

Why would the Jews all of a sudden be strangers to Egyptians? Certainly the legacy of Joseph’s exploits, especially preparing the nation for the famine, was known far and wide. Jacob’s offspring became a sizeable, visible and thriving nation. So what happened? Why all of a sudden did the Egyptians seek to render us nameless and “forget” us?

Perhaps that’s because before you can enslave a people, first you must render them worthless, something less than human, or even a potential threat.

“Suddenly, there is a shift in the text,” wrote Rabbi Danielle Stillman in the Jewish Exponent in 2009. She added, the king “…did not know Joseph's name, and, therefore, fails to see the humanity of the people. This is the precursor to their enslavement. It is easier to enslave and oppress people when we don't know their names or choose not to use them.”

Pharaoh takes this one step further announcing,

“Get ready, let us deal shrewdly with them, lest they increase, and a war befall us, and they join our enemies and depart from the land." Shemot 1:10

When we study Shemot as a community and even sit at our Seder table, the Torah challenges us to remember how easily people – then and now – can become nameless, faceless, accused and enslaved. In the Parsha it took exactly eleven words. In reality, it was as simple as a decree by an all-powerful Egyptian leader with a political agenda.

We all know slavery didn’t end in Egypt and exists in many forms today. January 11 was recognized in communities across the country as National Human Trafficking Day. In modern times, for those trafficked in America or abroad, slavery is as simple as one person exploiting another whom society has rendered powerless.

But G-d recognizes that the path out of slavery for the Jews begins with an intervention to rebalance the power and hold Pharaoh accountable for the enslavement. At the start of the final aliyah, Moshe delivers a message from G-d to Pharaoh. He says,

"So said the Lord G-d of Israel, 'Send out My people, and let them sacrifice to Me in the desert.'" Shemot 5:1

In his demand, Moshe reclaims the Jews, their names, and their future. He uses his voice to help restore names to the nameless and empower the powerless. Though he is rebuffed, as he knew he would be, he sets in motion the steps that will lead to eventual redemption.

Each of us on the planet has a name, a face, and a place before G-d. Shemot enumerates the dangers inherent when we lose sight of that or let others take it away.

Shabbat Shalom.

You can begin to learn more about modern day slavery right here in Oakland at http://oaklandlocal.com/article/youth-trafficking-part-1

Parashat Vayechi
Tevet 12, 5772 ~ January 7, 2012
Neska

In Honor of the Life of my Mother, Hannah bas Moshe st”l and my Uncle Edwin zt”L

And so (you will note that I begin this parsha with and...because it is a closed parsha with only a tiny space between the last one and this one; therefore the and....)
And so...I am living in Egypt
with all my family...with all my family
and Yosef
Can I tell you of my joy?
Can I describe my suddenly letting go of all my burdens?
of all my struggles
Even in the womb
Eisav and I struggled.
And even when Yosef was born - born from the love of my life
to became the love of my life
Even in those 17 years -
while I was the happiest I had ever been -
there was still struggling
the brothers were struggling – the brothers and I were struggling. much confusion.

And now, here I am, at the end of my 147 years =
finally living the last 17 of them
in a peace – in a joy...feeling a bit guilty that I have it so good....
But what can I do? I study and I live with my family
And my Yosef...my Yosef.

As I find out later, many Rabbis will criticize me for this joy of living.
I can't help it. If Hashem wants us to have pleasure – then this is mine.

Yes. I do see that my family is enjoying themselves as well. I can hear the laughter.
The comaraderie.
I sense that perhaps we are becoming too friendly, too close with the Egyptians.
Perhaps we are beginning to assimilate too easily into their culture, even though we live apart.
Perhaps I should talk with Yosef.
Perhaps when I ask him to vow to bury me in The Cave
perhaps I should suggest to him that the whole family stay in Ca'anan and not return here.
Even though I know the famine will begin again after I pass on
Perhaps the boys can bring enough food with them to stay in The Land and not return to Egypt
To stay in the land where they truly belong.
But as this parsha is a closed parsha, so are my eyes and mouth closed to suggesting this.
Perhaps Yosef will think of it on his own.

But Yosef does not think of it on his own. In fact, the Chasam Sofer states that after Ya'akov dies, and after Yosef tells his brothers that Hashem made all of this happen -
he does not talk to them again until the end of his life. And he never says “I forgive you”.

And so the family remains in galus. The Book of Family is done. The Book of The Nation is to begin. Could our birth have come about differently? Choice point. And we returned to Egypt.......Shabbat Shalom