Rabbi Baum's Weekly Message
Shabbat Shalom Shaarei Kodesh,
This week, our country engaged in a ritual that we have taken for granted for hundreds of years: the transfer of power from one president to another. The inauguration of President Joe Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris was different from all others as it happened during the shadow of an unrelenting virus that is affecting us all, and an attack on the Capitol by extremists. It is hard to deny that this country is in a state of darkness.
In this week’s parashah, Bo, we read about the final three plagues that God visits upon Egypt to force Pharaoh to let the Hebrews go. These plagues all have something in common: darkness. Locusts cover the earth making it dark (Exodus 10:15 - They hid all the land from view, and the land was darkened), the plague of darkness (Exodus 10:22 thick darkness descended upon all the land of Egypt for three days), and the killing of the firstborn which occurs at midnight. The ninth plague, the plague of darkness, was different from the other plagues. In Exodus 10:23, we read:
לֹֽא־רָא֞וּ אִ֣ישׁ אֶת־אָחִ֗יו וְלֹא־קָ֛מוּ אִ֥ישׁ מִתַּחְתָּ֖יו שְׁלֹ֣שֶׁת יָמִ֑ים וּֽלְכָל־בְּנֵ֧י יִשְׂרָאֵ֛ל הָ֥יָה א֖וֹר בְּמוֹשְׁבֹתָֽם׃
“People could not see one another, and for three days no one could get up from where he was; but all the Israelites enjoyed light in their dwellings.”
The Etz Chaim Chumash commentary notes the following:
“During all other plagues, the average Egyptian could do nothing to end them. During a plague of darkness, however, could Egyptians not light candles? Perhaps the plague was not a physical darkness, a sandstorm, or a solar eclipse; perhaps it was a spiritual or psychological darkness, a deep depression. People suffering from depression lack the energy to move about or to be concerned with anyone other than themselves, precisely as the Torah describes the Egyptians. Perhaps the Egyptians were depressed by the series of calamities that had struck them or by the realization of how much their own comfort depended on the enslavement of others. The person who cannot see his neighbor is incapable of spiritual growth, incapable of rising from where he is currently. In Jewish legal discussion defining how early one may recite the morning prayers, “dawn” is defined as “when one can recognize the face of a friend” (BT Berachot 9b). When one can see other people and recognize them as friends, the darkness has begun to lift.”
Reading this commentary, I could not help but see the parallels to our time. The darkness we feel is not physical, but spiritual and psychological. It is not only caused by the loss of life and economic opportunity but also the loneliness we feel and the hate and division that has been pervasive for years in our country. President Joe Biden called this hate and division the ‘uncivil war’. How do we rise up from the darkness?
For me, a bright spot was found in the words of Amanda Gorman, a twenty-two-year-old American poet, who wowed the nation with her original poem written in the aftermath of the attack on the Capitol and the cumulative losses of Covid which has killed over 400,000 Americans in less than a year. You can see her read the poem in the box below. I will not repeat the whole poem, but just some lines that speak to this teaching in our Torah portion.
“When day comes we ask ourselves,
where can we find light in this never-ending shade?
The loss we carry…
And yet the dawn is ours
before we knew it
Somehow we do it
Somehow we've weathered and witnessed
a nation that isn’t broken
but simply unfinished…
And so we lift our gazes not to what stands between us
but what stands before us
We close the divide because we know, to put our future first,
we must first put our differences aside
We lay down our arms
so we can reach out our arms
to one another…
When day comes we step out of the shade,
aflame and unafraid
The new dawn blooms as we free it
For there is always light,
if only we’re brave enough to see it
If only we’re brave enough to be it.”
As I heard her words, I thought back to the commentary I shared about the plague of darkness: The person who cannot see his neighbor is incapable of spiritual growth, incapable of rising from where he is currently. In Jewish legal discussion defining how early one may recite the morning prayers, “dawn” is defined as “when one can recognize the face of a friend” (BT Berachot 9b). When one can see other people and recognize them as friends, the darkness has begun to lift.”
A synagogue is called a Beit Knesset, a place of gathering. Implicit in that description is that the idea that people interact and see one another, and that is part of what it means to serve God. I pray that we return to see each other in person, but in the meantime, we will continue to see each other every Shabbat, every minyan, every educational or social program. We may be in a dark place as a country, but we can help make a difference by increasing our ‘facetime’ with each other, to listen and connect, and grow together. I wish you all a Shabbat Shalom and I look forward to seeing you this weekend.
Rabbi David Baum
