Learning and Bo

Learning is a great thing to re-discover. This week, as the last three plagues are upon us and God/Pharaoh are debating whether or not the Hebrews can leave Egypt, I am struck by how easy it is to become complacent when we don't know what will happen. Not only that, but after 9 plagues, the people are told to celebrate Passover - a terrifying thing if one doesn't understand the context: you, go take a lamb, kill it, and spread its blood on the doorposts of your house. Why, you ask? Because you want to keep your first-born sons and animals. Okay, you respond. That works.

But truthfully, all of this is a little hairy. I, for one, don't listen that well. However, and this is a big one, if things are presented correctly, or we can listen, everything can work out well. Honestly, things did work out well for the Israelites. They got out of slavery. Then, of course, things began to deteriorate again, but let's focus on one calamity at a time.

As I was sitting and learning a piece of Midrash for class on Monday, I was stuck by this. We were told to learn for 120 minutes tops and then quit, no matter where we were with the text. We didn't have this un-ending misery ahead of us, but rather a tenable, manageable amount of time (although it loomed like forever at the beginning). What I discovered is that when broken into pieces, anything can be manageable, and anything can make sense.

Therefore, maybe the reason the plagues are broken up, why there are multiple explanations of Passover, why the people are so willing to just go along with Moses's plans is that they are mostly given in small chunks (even though they hit one after another). The people are able to (barely) digest one thing and then given the next. Not a perfect plan, but A method of working.

Needless to say, I won't be working like that (no stops ahead) during my studies. Rather, I will work to separate my challenges into reasonable and manageable chunks. Hopefully in that, I will feel more prepared to face each chunk and piece of learning.

Shabbat Shalom

Actively Stand Up

This week's sermon in Billings, MT on Martin Luther King, Moses, and anti-Semitism.

Martin Luther King Junior. Espoused as one of the greatest speakers of his time, a charismatic leader who led the fight for racial equality in America. Here in Billings, as in much of America, he symbolizes the need for recognition of different kinds of people, different ideology, religion and ways of life. He symbolizes hope, continuity, connection. Yet here, he also helps demonstrate the Not in Our Town attitude, the unwillingness to continue to let hatred of any sort, especially in the form of anti-Semitism, rule.

MLK Jr. spoke eloquently. Yet many leaders do not. In fact, our great Jewish leader, Moses himself, complains of being “heavy mouthed and heavy tongued.” (Exodus 4:10) He does not feel prepared to rise to the task of speaking to Pharaoh and helping bring the Jewish people out of slavery in Egypt. In fact, when God asks Moses to go to Pharaoh, here is what he says:

Hebrew (Exodus 6:12). But Moses appealed before God, saying, ‘The Israelites would not listen to me, how then should Pharaoh heed me, a man of impeded/uncircumcised lips’.

Moses is so unsure of his ability to convince anyone to listen to him, not the entirety of this burdened people nor the great Pharaoh, that he tears himself down in front of God. Not heeding the call of God, he takes the easy way out, telling God he is not capable. Moses stands at an impasse: he can either go ahead and attempt to act, or he can remain frozen by fear and insecurity.

The events that transpired in Paris this past week come to mind. If you’ll indulge me for a moment, I’d like to suggest that we, as Jews in Billings, California, or even Israel, are at a turning point, like Moses.

A week and a half ago, a French satirical magazine, Charlie Hedbo published a cartoon depicting the Prophet Muhammed. The next day, 12 people from the magazine (including one policeman) were dead at the hands of Islamic-extremists who felt that they were avenging the wrongful use and depiction of their prophet. What transpired were a series of police chases and disturbing circumstances, ending with a total of 17 people dead, including 4 of the 19 Jews held hostage by related extremists in a Paris Kosher supermarket.

These events were the result of Islamic extremists. They were acts of baseless hatred. Yet, they sparked fear into the hearts of the French public as well as people around the world. That was the intent of the terrorists: evoke fear and separate people. Make them distrust their neighbor. Yet, Jews everywhere started when they heard of these Paris hostages, of all the deaths. The news became personal, hitting too close to home. A Jew is a Jew, we care for our own. Yes, we care for people as a whole, but when our own people are attacked, it becomes much more personal.

Regardless of who dies, destroying the sanctity of life and taking any of God’s children is wrong. It is a desecration of God’s holy name. In fact, our tradition teaches that if one takes a life, it is as if one destroys an entire world. This sentiment speaks to us clearly at this time, after the events of the past week and a half, as well as during this particular MLK weekend. We must stand up and add more worlds to our own, not diminish the ones already in existence.

Exodus 2:23 reads Hebrew …and the children of Israel sighed because of their hard work and they cried out, and their cry for help came up to Adonai from/because of their work/bondage. God could not heed the call of the people until they cried out to God in pain (the pain of bondage). Not until the people actively expressed the misery they experienced as slaves could God act and try to deliver them from slavery.

God must hear our voice. We must make our voices heard. Not just in a single cry that then dies out and disappears, but a constant call, a constant disdain for pain and death so that God will continue to hear again and again. Then our voices will be heard. Then God will, like with the Israelites in Egypt, bring about change and help the people out of their current sorrow. We can help.

And in Egypt, God does. God hears our cry and decides to use Moses, the one who claims not to be able to speak, to help bring the people out. God pits Moses against Pharaoh, the great ruler of Egypt, who feels his actions are correct, that he must continue to enslave the Israelites, even when Moses pleads, even when he threatens the onset of plagues. Pharaoh’s heart is constantly hardened. Moses, of uncircumcised lips, attempts to bargain, plead, demand, beg for the freedom of the Israelites. The weakling against the giant.

However, Moses undergoes a change: from meek and unsure to a strong and determined leader. He does not have all the answers, nor does he know exactly where he should go. But he continues on. He fights. He demonstrates the necessity of acting and doing at a time when no one else is willing. He overcomes his own hesitancies and personal challenges, in order to act for the greater good. Moses is a beacon, like Martin Luther King Junior.

As all the fear and death that has plagued our world over the past week and a half settles in, we recognize the importance of acting, of not being afraid, of making our voices heard. We must demonstrate our disdain for the current circumstances the world is experiencing and take a stand. Then, God will hear our voice. We are a people of faith, but also one of action. We must let God hear our voice. But only if we too are willing to act and bring about the change. Only if we are willing to help our fellow man and stand by their side. We must take a stand, we must say “Not in Our Town.” We must say, “Not in our world!"