Bo

In this parshah, they actually leave! First we have the final plagues, including the death of the first born, and an announcement that the children of Israel should leave Egypt having sacrificed a lamb, and that these events should be remembered in all generations. The children of Israel finally leave and God describes the details of how the Passover should be commemorated.

Another Voice

Bo - Danny Burkeman

Danny Burkeman is currently the Associate Rabbi at West London Synagogue, where he is focussing on young adult work, adult education and social action projects. He was ordained at Hebrew Union College in Los Angeles this past May, with a rabbinic thesis exploring the way that non-Israelite women challenge gender roles in Tanach.

The story of the Ten Plagues is one of those sections of the Torah which changes with age. As children, we read of these miraculous events with awe at God's supernatural abilities, focussing on the plagues themselves rather than the people involved. As we mature and return to the text, there is a difficulty as we are challenged by an awareness that the Egyptians suffered greatly so that our suffering could end. With further reading, the text becomes even more difficult, as God's role, hardening Pharaoh's heart in order to display God’s signs among them, becomes evident, and it becomes unclear as to whether the fate of the Egyptians was even under their control.

The break between Parashat Va-era and Bo interrupts the narrative of these plagues, and we are left to wait an entire week to find out what happens next.

The first two verses make for very uncomfortable reading (Exodus 10:1-2):

"And Adonai said to Moses, 'Come to Pharaoh, for I have hardened his heart, and the hearts of all of his servants, so that I can put these signs of Mine among them. In order that you can tell in the ears of your children, and the children of your children how I mocked/destroyed in Egypt, and placed My signs amongst them - and you will know I am Adonai.'"

According to the text, the whole exercise, the immense Egyptian suffering, has been for the benefit of future generations who will know Adonai through the tales of these plagues. What had previously appeared to be a rescue mission (Exodus 3:7-10) has been transformed into something different. Future generations will learn about God, and follow God, through the stories of havoc and destruction which rained down on Egypt.

The word which I find most troubling is hitalalti, which translates to mockery or destruction. This troubling word is found in several other challenging texts. In the story of Balaam, after the donkey has challenged Balaam for beating him three times, Balaam says to him: hitalalt bi - you have mocked me (Numbers 22:29). In this story we find a deep sense of embarrassment and humiliation embedded in this word. Alongside this is the tremendously uncomfortable story of the rape and murder of the Levite’s concubine. In this text, the Benjaminite men raped and vayitalelu ba - tortured her (Judges 19:25). This time the embarrassment of the word pales in comparison to the violence and destruction.

What lessons are we supposed to learn from the story of the plagues in Egypt? Are we supposed to understand God as a mocking Deity, using death and destruction to teach a lesson; or are we intended to view God as the abuser of an entire nation? Maybe God is the judge meting out justice on those who have sinned? Could this story offers a lesson about the dangers of conflict, and the potential to get carried away with the violence, forgetting the original cause? Perhaps this is an example of behaviour, acceptable for God, but not to be emulated by us mere mortals?

The text offers us the challenge of finding our own lesson. God does not command that our children shall shema - hear - this story. Instead the text instructs tesaper beoznei - recount in their ears (literally). We have a role in the transmission of this story. We have a responsibility to teach our children not only the story, but also the lessons which emerge from it. These lessons may make us uncomfortable, and these lessons may challenge our previous understandings, but these lessons allow a deeper relationship with the text. As Ben Bag Bag challenged us: "Turn it, turn it, for everything is in it" (Pirkei Avot 5:22).

Another Voice - Emma Sevitt

Emma Sevitt is the President of Limmoed Netherlands and co-editor of the Taste of Limmud.

We always sing a rousing, passionate rendition of the Negro Spiritual "Let My People Go" at my family seder table. The escape from Egyptian slavery and the hope of reaching the shores of the Promised Land is the archetype and inspiration for countless liberation movements. Our story bolsters faith for those waiting, especially through rollercoasters of hope and bitter disappointment until the current Pharaoh is at last overcome.

As the world commemorated the 81st anniversary of the birth of Martin Luther King Jr.  this past Monday, we pay tribute to a great leader in civil rights history. In Memphis, 1968 he eloquently and passionately emphasized the necessity to stand by each other in times of injustice:

"We've got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't matter with me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. And I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord."

In the wake of adversity, in a time of severe destruction in many parts of the world and most recently in Haiti, it is essential that swear loyalty and demonstrate compassion and commitment so that we can keep trying to reach that land of promise – together.