It feels like very good timing to begin the book of Exodus
this Shabbat, as we enter a new year. The secular New Year, like Chanukah and
Christmas, is about finding light at the darkest time of year – hence New
Year’s fireworks, sparkly festive clothes and bubbly champagne.
As we open the book of Exodus, we find our people at its
darkest hour, in exile, forced to serve Pharaoh in Egypt. But throughout the parasha,
there is light. There is light in the midwives’ brave act, defying Pharaoh by
not killing the Hebrew baby boys; in Moses’ mother’s decision to put her baby
in a basket by the Nile, and in Pharaoh’s daughter’s act to save him. A small
flame lights up a bush without consuming it. And God finally hears the groans
of the Israelites and remembers the covenant.
These hopeful glimmers herald the beginning of a new kind of
story – where brothers don’t kill or banish each other, but where Aaron speaks
for Moses, who is slow of tongue. This new kind of story brings with it a new
name for God: “Ehyeh.” Ultimately, the Exodus story will be the one that
defines us most powerfully, as a people who know the heart of a slave, of a
stranger. Our suffering will have been given purpose – to bring light to other
peoples’ darkness.
So, as we begin this new book, I want to ask the question –
is a story of suffering necessary in developing a sense of values, ethics and
purpose in the world? Is it possible to become a people committed to justice
and compassion without this story?