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Rabbis' Blog

No More Opting Out

Several hours before Kol Nidrei I was delivering honey cakes to friends and supporters as a traditional gesture of blessing for a sweet new year. When I finished my list and had one cake left in the car I called my father to ask if he had anyone specific in mind. He suggested I visit an elderly couple on our mailing list with whom we’ve had little connection all these years.

“Who knows? Perhaps they’ll appreciate a surprise visit and the honey cake before Yom Kippur,” he reasoned.

When I arrived at the address on my list I was greeted by the elderly gentleman. As I handed him the honey cake and explained its significance he invited me into the home for a chat.

“I’m a very bad Jew, and that probably won’t change. In fact, I never had a Bar Mitzvah in my life!” he goodnaturedly quipped.

Throughout the pleasant conversation about his childhood and how they moved to El Paso, he constantly expressed the above theme so I asked him if he would like to do the mitzvah of Tefillin.

“Here? Now?” he asked incredulously.

“Why not?” I replied.

“But I don’t know how to use them. Will you help me?”

I needed no further invitation and within a few moments, my new friend was wearing Tefillin for the first time in his life. He and his wife cried as we recited the Shema together and my surprise visit became a long overdue Bar Mitzvah celebration.

Unfortunately, his health deteriorated and he passed away a few months later. Only recently one of his children pointed out to me how providential and meaningful it was that his Yartzeit occurs in the week of Parshat Bo - where the mitzvah of Tefillin is mentioned for the first time. The mitzvah he was so proud to finally do shortly before his passing.

But I think my late friend’s connection to the story of this week’s parsha is even deeper. Parshat Bo describes the final steps in the long process leading to the exodus from Egypt. One of the less-known facts of that miraculous occasion is that eighty percent of the Israelites did not leave Egyptian slavery because they did not want to leave their homes to follow Moshe into the barren desert.

G-d did not force anyone to leave Egypt and participate in the journey to Mt. Sinai and Jewish nationhood, and whoever opted out died several weeks before Passover. However, from then on, opting out of Judaism became impossible. No matter how far a Jew may run from Judaism, he or she will eventually come back home. Because the redemption from Egypt made every Jew inherently free from the spiritual distractions of external persecution or internal apathy.

When provided the opportunity, the “Pinteleh Yid” - the Jew’s core essence will shine forth and joyfully embrace a mitzvah like a long lost child.

 

Immeasurable Impact

Often people invoke their parents when celebrating great personal achievements. Graduating valedictorians, bridegrooms, athletic champions, and even newly inaugurated presidents will mention those who welcomed them to the world and nurtured them to adulthood. There is typically no connection between the parents and their children’s specific achievements, but sometimes the connection is profound.

This week’s parsha opens with G-d’s instruction to Moshe and his brother Aharon to approach Pharaoh once again with the divine message “Let my people go and serve Me (G-d) in the desert.” The first time they delivered the message it boomeranged terribly for the Jews, and now the two brothers made the herculean effort to follow through with the mission.

The Torah then suddenly breaks from the narrative to record the family trees of three Israelite tribes with a specific focus on Amram and Yocheved, Moshe and Aharon’s parents from the tribe of Levi. The section concludes “That is Aharon and Moshe, to whom the L-rd said, "Take the children of Israel out of the land of Egypt with their legions. They are the ones who spoke to Pharaoh, the king of Egypt, to let the children of Israel out of Egypt; they are Moshe and Aharon." Why was this introduction to these two legendary brothers recorded in the middle of their mission and not in the beginning?

In G-d’s original instruction to Moshe the Israelite elders were meant to join him as a delegation to Pharaoh. Perhaps it would look awkward for two solitary people to represent many millions of Jews requesting freedom and initially, a group of seventy venerable sages joined Moshe and Aharon as they approached the royal palace. However, one by one the elders backed away. Pharaoh was so ferociously intimidating, the mere thought of being in his presence, let alone demanding freedom, filled their hearts with dread. By the time they arrived at the palace, Moshe and Aharon stood alone.

How did they have the courage and bravery to do it? They got it from their parents.

Their mother Yocheved had a long history with Pharoah. About a year before Moshe’s birth the Egyptian astrologers foretold that a boy would soon be born who would liberate the Jews from Egyptian slavery. Determined to nip this threat in the bud, Pharaoh commanded Yocheved, the chief Israelite midwife to kill every Israelite male baby at birth. With tremendous sacrifice, she refused to comply and even bravely talked him down from the devilish plan.

When Pharaoh then decreed all baby boys should be drowned in the Nile, Amram, the Israelite leader at the time, after a brief hesitation, inspired the Jews to continue having children by doing so himself. Moshe was born shortly afterward. 

Amram and Yocheved’s courage did not only have the short-term impact of ensuring Jewish continuity, but it also primed their children to make similar choices eighty years later with monumental consequences.

Always remember that your mitzvot today can be the catalyst for tremendous good for generations to come.

 

Something you should know about all Jews

Shortly after moving back to El Paso, I started studying Torah with a young Jew who eventually wanted to introduce me to his father. “I must warn you, my dad is hostile to Judaism and rabbis,” he said apologetically. Guess what? We had a lovely conversation which evolved into a weekly Torah study session for several months together and we have been in touch ever since.

In this week’s parsha we learn about Moshe’s job interview with G-d. While tending to his in-laws’ sheep he encountered a burning bush where G-d appointed him leader of the Jewish nation with the urgent mandate of guiding them out of Egyptian slavery.

Perhaps someone else would have jumped on the opportunity but Moshe hesitated for seven days. In a fascinating conversation recorded in 34 verses, Moshe presented numerous objections to his new mission. Aside from his doubts about his own ability to influence Pharaoh to free the slaves, he understood the mission is far greater than merely fixing a catastrophic injustice. G-d was sending him as a divine messenger, with a divine message, to the Jews as well. Securing their release from slavery was one thing; convincing them to follow him into a barren desert, after living in Egypt for over 200 years, seemed to be a far greater challenge.

"Behold they will not believe me, and they will not heed my voice, but they will say, 'The L-rd has not appeared to you.'” Moshe argued that although there was no logical reason for the Jews to leave Egypt, divine instruction would certainly do the trick. The trouble is they will not believe the messenger.

In response, G-d told him to throw his staff on the ground. It turned into a vicious snake and Moshe fled from it until he was instructed to grab it and it reverted back to a staff. G-d then told him to put his hand in his shirt and it became white with leprosy and was healed shortly thereafter.

How did these miracles answer Moshe’s question? Historically, the serpent was the first creature to use the power of speech as a tool for deception and leprosy is a divine punishment for slander. G-d’s response to the suggestion that the Jews would not accept divine prophecy was to express that this was false and akin to slander.

Although Moshe’s perspective was based on data and personal observation, in preparation for his new role of shepherding the Jewish nation, G-d taught him an inherent truth about the Jews. As the descendants of Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, the greatest believers to ever live, Jews will always believe in G-d and accept and trust divine communication. Never stop believing they are believers.

This truth helped me ignore my friend's warnings about his father’s hostility to Judaism, and this truth should motivate all of us to confidently and joyfully share the beauty of Torah study and Mitzvah observance with our fellow Jews.

 

Be Strong!

A friend once explained to me delivering a good speech is like flying an airplane. Get the passengers from one place to another by starting slowly, gaining speed, taking off and cruising at the right altitude for most of the time, and concluding with a smooth, hopefully inspiring, and memorable, landing. (And aim for no delays!)

This week’s Torah reading marks the conclusion of the Book of Genesis. It is customary for the congregation to rise for the reading of the final verse and then festively declare in unison “Chazak, Chazak, Venischazek! Be strong, be strong, and let us be strengthened!” We do this at the conclusion of all the Torah’s five books respectively, and four of them conclude with inspiring messages of divine revelation, communication, and miracles. But the concluding verse of Genesis seems anticlimactic at best.

Genesis contains the stories of our forefathers, Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov, and their families and concludes with the deaths of Yaakov and his favorite and most impactful son Yosef. Although both passed away in Egypt, their burials were vastly different. Yaakov was buried in Israel in one of the most well-attended royal funerals in history. Yosef’s body, on the other hand, was stolen by the Egyptians, placed in an iron casket, and sunken in the Nile River. He was only discovered right before the exodus and ultimately buried in Israel close to 200 years after his passing.

This tragic and frustrating episode is recorded in the concluding verse of Genesis and is the prelude to our festive declaration of “Chazak!” What’s the hidden message here?

Although the Israelites experienced peace and prosperity when they first arrived in Egypt, they were no longer in their natural spiritual habitat, the Holy Land, and the 210 years of Egyptian exile started upon their arrival. Yosef’s passing 71 years later marked the beginning of a dark period of unbearable slavery and persecution.

Yaakov and Yosef were the first Jewish leaders in exile, and each one respectively foretold of the eventual redemption before their passing. But the two of them went on to serve as two different inspirations for the Jews as they weathered the storms of exile. 

Yaakov served as a guiding force for his exiled children from the spiritual safety of being buried in the Holy Land. Like an air traffic controller in the control tower guiding the aircraft from the safety of the ground. Yosef remained in exile together with his people, serving as their spiritual anchor in the putrid environment of Egyptian moral depravity and idolatry. Like the pilot navigating the aircraft from the cockpit.

The Rebbe explained on several occasions that throughout the long history of Jewish leaders, there were those who merited to be buried in the Holy Land and those who remained in the diaspora. None of the Chabad Rebbes were interred in Israel in order to continue serving as the crucial inspiration we need to safely navigate through this turbulent exile to the final destination of redemption.

The final verse of Genesis is the source of the crucial strength we need in exile, until the arrival of Moshiach and the onset of the imminent redemption. Chazak!

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