This Shabbat is Shabbat Shirah – the Shabbat of Song, and it’s filled with beautiful moments.  We have come safely through the Red Sea, the Egyptian army has perished, we take our first breath as a free nation, and we burst into song.  It’s a beautiful expression of joy, having just experienced the desperation of standing between the enemy and the sea –cornered.  We could have chosen to blame God for pushing us to the brink of desperation before ultimately saving us, but instead we choose a song of joy.

The midrash focuses on why the verb for singing is mentioned in the future tense.  “Then Moses and Israel will sing (az yashir)”, it is more accurate to relate it in the past or present tense as something that is happening at that moment.  But we are told that the song we choose to sing in the beginning will be the song we choose to sing throughout.  When I start my day, am I choosing to have a good day?  It is a choice I make before anything else happens, and it is the approach I will bring to everyone and everything throughout my day.  

Ultimately, the Sages tell us that this song of joy, the individual song we all compose in our hearts, will be the song we sing when creation is fulfilled.  At that time, every person who ever lived will be granted a final breath, and will then choose how to use it.  The future tense “will sing” is telling us to choose a personal song of joy and gratitude and attach it to our identities.  It is the expression that will first present itself to us when our thoughts form into words.  It is the song we will always choose to sing.

Life brings challenges to us; it is the nature of the created world.  Responding to those challenges with the unique songs we hold inside is how we shape the moment, the day, and ultimately, the world around us.

I’d like to wish everyone a sweet and peaceful Shabbat –our Jewish time to regroup, rest, and reinvigorate.

Shabbat shalom,

Rachael

This week, in parashat Bo, we read of the conclusion of the plagues, as Israel prepares to leave Egypt. The people are told to ask their neighbours for some of their wealth before leaving, and, in fact, the riches of Egypt are shared with the Israelites. On a practical level, this puts closure to any future claim of monies owed to us for forced labour, and Israel can truly disconnect from Egypt. But the question remains as to why an ancient Egyptian would want to share their wealth with a departing slave.
 
Immediately after instructing Israel to do this, the text says that God placed “the beauty of the nation into the eyes of Egypt.” This one phrase opens our understanding of how a people can enslave another people. The process of oppression includes steps of dehumanization. If I view another person as an equal human being, with a name, an identity, and human dignity, it becomes more difficult to hurt them or see them suffer. History has shown that to enslave, the oppressor must first believe their victim is less than human. We heard hints of this early in our text when the midwives told Pharaoh he was correct, the Israelite women are like animals.
           
It is not the beauty of the Israelites that God placed in the eyes of the Egyptians, it is the beauty of their humanity ­– Egypt was able to view the Israelites as people. The desire to resolve suffering and promote healing is a universal element of compassion that we all share.
           
In today’s world, we fall into the same trap when we group people together and reference them as ‘homeless,’ or even ‘immigrants,’ without thinking of them as people with names and specific identities. It’s convenient and practical, but the risk of where it can lead is too great. Every person deserves eye contact and an exchange of communication between equals.
           
There are many lessons we take with us from our Egypt experience. Some of them are grand theological messages while others are subtle, timeless human insights.
           
I’d like to wish everyone a sweet and peaceful Shabbat ­– our Jewish time to regroup, rest and reinvigorate.
 
Shabbat shalom,
Rachael

This week’s Torah reading, parshat Vaera, begins the narrative of Moses telling Pharaoh to send Israel from Egypt.  It is a recurring refrain in our text, ‘send My people out so they may worship Me in the wilderness’, says God.  The insistence that new beginnings must happen in the desert –a place with no constraints, no reference points, no benchmarks.  

But the strength of the wilderness also represents its greatest threat: no constraints, no reference points, no benchmarks.  It is a disconnect from everything we know with only glimpses of what may come –it is shifting sands.  Yet, it is the only answer to Egypt.

Leaving Egypt is not something we welcomed, it is a mistranslation to say, “Let My people go”, since the Hebrew always says, “Send My people out”.  We don’t want to leave Egypt; we want to stay there but not suffer as slaves.  Pharaoh is being told to expel us, not release us.

At times, the human journey is not one of slow evolution, but one of seeming disconnect.  As modern Jews, we can feel the disconnect by living in two cultures, Jewish and secular, and we’re not always sure how they speak to each other. This Shabbat marks the beginning of the secular year 2022, and that marker alone can represent the disconnect for many of us.  More than two years ago, in 2019, the world redefined, and we all thought things would return to normal if we could hold tight for two weeks.  Weeks have turned into years, and we may still feel caught in the wilderness, circling in what seems like shifting sands.

These are the moments when the two cultures we live in serve to strengthen us.  Rosh Hashanah, our Jewish New Year, focuses on the year that was, our reflections on the choices we made, as we pray for another year of time.  The secular new year, Jan. 1, focuses on the year to come, with its possibilities and our resolutions –no reflections on the year that was.  We do not want to choose which orientation to take, reflective or projective, we welcome them both.

Another calendar page turns, and while it may feel like a wilderness with no release, we remember that sometimes we are forced into a wilderness.  From within that great expanse, we can stagnate, or we can reflect and transform.  

I’d like to wish everyone a sweet and peaceful Shabbat –our Jewish time to regroup, rest, and reinvigorate.

Shabbat shalom,

Rachael

This week in our reading, parshat Shemot, we meet Moses, the person we know most about in Torah.  While one book of the Torah tells us of creation and our ancestors, the other four books happen during Moses’ lifetime.  We honour our ancestors for giving us the foundation of our Judaism, but it is Moses who teaches us the structure of Judaism, it is he who delivers the Torah and all that we need to function and flourish within covenant.  We refer to Moses as Moshe Rabeinu, the term used for a Master with disciples —we acknowledge we are all his disciples.  It speaks to the challenge we face today as we see an important message conveyed to us sitting quietly in the meaning of the name ‘Moses’.

In the narrative, Pharaoh’s daughter takes Moses out of the Nile and names him.  She explains that she named him ‘Moses’ because “I drew him from the water”.  Pharaoh’s daughter has blessed the baby with a name that reflects her action.  In other words, the name ‘Moses’ is grammatically connected to the person doing the action, not the person receiving it.  He is not the one drawn from the water, he is the one who pulls someone else from the water.  The blessing and the message that speaks to us today is in the choice to be active when one is positioned to be passive.

As we enter the winter months, we are again facing health cautions and medical warnings.  For some of us it’s becoming an easy transition, as we adjusted ourselves to it months ago.  For others, it is an unwelcome restriction that is forcing its way back into our lives.  We could easily perceive it as a call to be passive and ‘wait things out’.  But it is actually a call to be active, as we change our means of maintaining connections.   Pharaoh’s daughter blessed Moses with an understanding that we keep our eyes on others, and we draw them towards us to safety and to strength.

Most of everything has now returned to online, at a time when we crave each other and could be tired of looking at our screens.  I encourage everyone to keep their cameras on when we gather virtually, as that small act moves us from passive participation to active interaction.   It is important to remember to draw others you know to likewise meet online.  Let them know what you’re doing and send them links to join you.  

As we keep our eyes on each other, and draw one another out of moments of feeling isolated, to gather together online, we are reminded of the ongoing lessons we learn from Moshe Rabeinu, our Master Teacher.

I’d like to wish everyone a sweet and peaceful Shabbat —our Jewish time to regroup, rest, and reinvigorate.

Shabbat shalom,

Rachael