Bo 5785

There were two moments this week that need to be reflected on. The first one is the tragic plane and helicopter collision that took place over the skies of Washington, DC late Wednesday night. We are all saddened by this tragic event. I cannot imagine the pain and anguish of the families. 

As a rabbi I was there for a son who lost his parents when Egypt Air’s Flight 990 crashed into the Atlantic Ocean in the fall of 1999. I was asked by the family to join them for a memorial service that took place a few days later in the parent’s synagogue in East Brunswick, NJ. (In my home study, I still have the note that my daughter left for me on the table, framed with the lucky penny that was taped to it, wishing me a safe trip and flight from Logan to Newark Airports.) So I understand, but only in a tangential way.

While I could transpose this week’s Torah reading to this tragedy, I prefer just to express the sadness that we all are experiencing for the families of the victims. There are no words or prayers that can sufficiently assist these families at this moment. 

For me personally, the words “Baruch Dayan Ha-emet,”  “Bless the Judge of Truth,” words that one is supposed to state on the first hearing the news of death, accepting that this is the way in the world, fall on deaf ears, even to me.  It provides absolutely no comfort to the families. And in many ways one can say it might be devoid of meaning. 

I reached out to one of our families, members of our congregation, whose grandson is part of the USA junior figure skating world, medaling at many national and world competitions. They shared with me that their grandson’s skating  partner’s father was the airplane pilot who flew that plane to Wichita, KS. It was then piloted to Washington, DC piloted by a different pilot. I feel conflicted. While we are grateful that this young woman’s father is alive and was not aboard that plane, that expression is also transformed into great sadness with the tragic loss of life of all those aboard the aircraft and the helicopter. Fate? Random fortune? Should we attempt to find meaning and reason through words of our tradition? I prefer not. 

The second moment took place in Gaza and Israel. My first thought as I woke this morning was hope in the release of eight more Israeli and Thai hostages from the hands of the terrorist Hamas and Islamic Jihad. What was most distressing was the manner in which this group of terrorists, for the second time in a week, handed the hostages over to the International Red Cross. Newspapers today in Israel described the handover as a “chaotic release.” Once again, hostages were paraded in front of Hamas terrorists in a way that was more of a shameful ceremony of victory by the terrorist organization. Such actions were in many ways no different than when some of the hostages were paraded through Gaza when they were first captured. Unacceptable is all one can say – both amoral and immoral.

Our Torah reading for this Shabbat witnesses the release of the Hebrew slaves in Egypt. One of the questions that I thought about this morning was how was the reaction of the Egyptian taskmasters and the Egyptian population similar or different to that of Hamas? Did they stand in parades following the ten plagues that were meant to give Pharaoh and the Egyptians the message of God as the Children of Israel were set free? 

Having witnessed the death of their firstborn and the many other plagues that destroyed their crops, their cattle and had disrupted their lives, did they not simply demand that the Children of Israel be sent out of their country as quickly as possible? What was their reaction? 

One commentary, Haaemek Hadavar suggests that most of Egypt had no knowledge of the freedom of the Hebrew slaves until news returned about the events that took place at the Sea of Reeds. It would follow then, that there was no fanfare, no parades. The Egyptians were just glad that the plagues that had destroyed their country and their lives were now over and they could return to rebuild and recover.  

Or could one assume, as one modern commentary suggests, that plague of darkness was that of moral darkness. Was it the kind that the world was witness to today at the hands of Hamas, or was it their own beleaguered reality? And how does that reality during the time of the Torah translate itself to the story of the civilians in Gaza today, whose homes and lives have been destroyed by their leadership’s decisions, in a similar fashion to that of the civilian Egyptian population during the time of Pharaoh?

One commentary, Hanokh of Aleksandr, suggests that the “Egyptian darkness was one where people could not see each other: Each Egyptian worried only about himself, and all of his efforts were dedicated exclusively to saving his life and the lives of his family members. Therefore, NO ONE COULD MOVE ABOUT, meaning that none of them managed to lift themselves out of the lowly spiritual state that surrounded them.” In a similar fashion, one has to ask how does this comment translate into how each individual Gazan is dealing with the darkness associated with destroyed homes and lives, caused by those who shamelessly parade hostages when originally captured and upon their release? 

I will leave the question for each one of us to answer.

One more thought. Our Torah reading for this Shabbat, Parashat Bo, celebrates the festival of freedom, Passover. The reading not only deals with the final plagues and the freedom gained by Moses, Aaron and God for our ancestors and Egypt the Hebrew slaves, but also the details of matzoh and the Paschal lamb. 

The Jerusalem Post reported today: 

“After 482 days in Hamas captivity, Israeli hostages Arbel Yehud, Gadi Moses, and Agam Berger returned home on Thursday, revealing harrowing details of their ordeal—including how they clung to their faith, refusing to eat leavened bread on Passover and attempting to fast on Yom Kippur, despite their captors’ cruelty.

The IDF observers from Nahal Oz, including Agam Berger, made a conscious effort to observe Jewish traditions even while being held underground and in Hamas-controlled apartments in Gaza, Ynet reported.

Despite the dire conditions, they refused to eat chametz (leavened bread) on Passover and attempted to fast on Yom Kippur, a difficult task given the severe malnutrition they suffered.

Berger, the last IDF observer to be released, said that holding onto faith gave her strength.”

And I hold to our thought in the words of prayer found in the Adon Olam: 

“Beyado afkid ruchi….” In to God’s hands I place my soul (and my trust), when I wake and when I sleep, I do not fear for Hashem is with me.”

Am Yisrael Chai!!!

Bring them all home today!!!

Shabbat shalom.

Rabbi K