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Tuesday, January 12, 2021

Parshat Shemot-Speaking Truth to Power

 

I’ve heard the term “speaking truth to power” from my younger, progressive colleagues for several years.  I never understood exactly what it meant.

I went to the source of all truth and information: Wikipedia, for a definition.  “Speaking truth to power” I read, “is a non-violent political tactic, employed by dissidents against the received wisdom or propaganda of governments they regard as oppressive… authoritarian...”  or even “immoral”. In this week’s parsha we see 6 superb examples of “speaking truth to power”.  All of them are women!  They are barely mentioned in the Torah text.  Some remain nameless. But each one, in her own way, defied the immoral and unjust voices of power around her, by doing what she knew to be right, in the circumstances of the moment.

The story is familiar. We recount it annually on Passover.  A new Pharaoh arose in Egypt.  The Israelites had become very numerous.  He was afraid they would overpower him and turn against him, in his own land.  He enslaved them with forced labor. They continued to grow in number. Pharaoh made a decree that all Hebrew baby boys should be killed at birth.  Enter Shifra and Puah, the Hebrew midwives; two women whose work in the world was the giving of life.  We aren’t told much about them except they are God fearing women, which, according to my teacher Rabbi Sharon Cohen Anisfeld, “means nothing more and nothing less than that they had respect and awe for the dignity and sanctity of all life.”[1]  At great danger to themselves they defied Pharaoh.  They acted according to what they knew was right. They chose life for every Hebrew baby born.  Without them there would not have been a Moshe.  Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks wrote: “they provided the first recorded instance of one of Judaism’s greatest contributions to civilization: the idea that there are moral limits to power. There are instructions that should not be obeyed.[2]    Shifra and Puah were courageous.  They did what they always did: helped women give birth.  They taught us the primacy of conscience over conformity. All life is sacred. 

When Pharaoh’s first plan did not work, he charged all his people, saying, “Every [Hebrew] boy that is born you shall throw into the Nile, but let every girl live.” (1:22?) It is here we meet our third heroine who, in her own way, spoke or acted in defiance of Pharaoh’s immoral decree.  It is Yocheved, wife of Amram and mother of the three people who would become the great leaders of the Israelites: Miriam, Aaron and Moshe, himself.  Even after the decree of death, Yocheved had the courage to have a child.  She hid him for three months, and then devised a plan to give him a chance of being rescued.  But she didn’t do it alone.  Miriam, Moshe’s older sister, is the 4th female voice of resistance, courage, creativity and determination in our story. Miriam had hope and faith.  We see in her, spiritual, emotional and psychological strength-and commitment to life, and to God.  She is not introduced as anybody’s wife or mother.  She is a sister and a prophetess. The biblical text paints a portrait of Miriam as entrenched in her faith, always willing to take a proactive role.  She demonstrates an unusual fearlessness and presence of mind. Rabbinic tradition (Midrash haGadol, Sotah 1a) defines her character even further. In Midrash, we read, hearing about the decree that every male Israelite baby would be drowned in the river: Amram led the Israelite men in divorcing their wives so no more children would die by Pharaoh’s decree.  Miriam, so the tradition tells us, argued with her father. “Your decree,” she said, “is worse than Pharaoh’s. His affects only the boys; yours affects all.”  Amram relented, and as a result, Moshe was born.             Miriam defied Pharaoh and his decree.  She might have said God put her in the right place at the right time.  However, she was not willing to rely on God to solve this problem.  With her courage, creativity and determination, she stood up and acted against what she knew was morally wrong.          It was she who kept watch over the child as the ark in which his mother had put him, floated down the river.  And Miriam, the daughter of slaves, approached the Princess, Pharaoh’s daughter, with the suggestion that he be nursed among his own people.

Which brings me to the 5th and perhaps most intriguing of the unexpected female voices who both spoke and acted against the decree of Pharaoh. She is introduced with no name, no personal identification; only as “Pharaoh’s daughter”.  It is, much later, in a commentary she is given the name Bat-ya, meaning daughter of God. The Rabbis found the name Batyah to be fitting for Pharaoh’s daughter since she (unwittingly) realized the divine plan when she kept alive the rescuer of Israel. The midrash relates that she received that name from God as reward for her actions.  Not only was Batya able to defy the will of her father, the Pharaoh, but she was able to see beyond the lines of race, class, nationality, religion.  She reached out to rescue the baby she must have known was the child of Israelite slaves.  One commentary says her arm miraculously extended to 400 amot (the equivalent of more than 19 inches) when she reached out to pull him from the water. She responded with grace and appreciation when Miriam offered “to call a nursing woman from the Hebrews” to nurse the child for her.  She named the baby Moshe meaning “for I drew him out of the water.” (Ex. 2:10) Despite that Moses is not a Hebrew name, it remained with him throughout his life.  Even God always addressed him by that name beginning with the episode of the burning bush. It is said by some “it is because of Batya’s deep and abiding … love for Moshe-the love of a mother for a child…”[3] Moshe brought Batya close to God.  Because she treated Moshe as a son, we are told [4] God treated her as a daughter.  She saved Moshe’s life from Pharaoh’s edict of death. Later, we are told in commentary, Moshe saved her from God’s decree during the plagues, that all Egyptian first born shall die.  (She was the firstborn of Pharaoh.) (Ex.Rabbah8:3)

Tzipporah, Moshe’ wife is the 6th female heroine in this story. Like the others, she is barely seen and her voice is not heard. We know only she is the daughter of a Midianite Priest.

God told Moshe to return to Egypt and with the help of Aaron and God, he was to persuade Pharaoh to let the people go out of Egypt to serve their God. Tzipporah was determined to accompany Moshe on his mission to Egypt, despite that she had no reason to risk her life on such a hazardous venture. In a bizarre and difficult to interpret passage, it was she who saved Moshe’ life by performing a circumcision on their son (Ex. 4: 24-26). The medieval commentator Rashi understands God was angry and ready to kill Moshe because he had not circumcised his son, Eliezer.  Zipporah understood it is an essential sign of identification among Hebrews, according to God's covenant with Abraham.  “She took a flint-stone and cut off her son’s foreskin and threw it as [Moshe’s] feet; and said regarding her son ‘You are a bridegroom of blood to me.” (4:25 and Rashi commentary.)  The impression we have of Tzipporah is of a strong, determined woman with insight and determination.  At that crucial moment, she had a better sense of what God required than Moshe himself.

Shifra, Puah, Yocheved, Miriam, Batya and Tzipporah were leaders not because of any official position they held. (In the case of Batya she was a leader despite her official title as a princess of Egypt). These women played pivotal, redemptive roles.  They were leaders because they had courage and conscience. “They refused to be intimidated by power or defeated by circumstance.”[5]

 

I lifted up the stories of these women because their relationship to the birth of the nation of Israel is generally not the focus of these chapters- but without them it wouldn’t have happened.  I hope you can identify with them; experience their trials and their successes; empathize with their fears and take pride in their extraordinary courage.  Though they did not have official authority and power, they demonstrated strong leadership, precisely in the moments it was called for.  What would they want us to remember of the lessons they taught?  Yocheved (Moshe’s mother) might want to remind us to listen to our hearts, which will tell us what is true, and then act on it.  Miriam (Moshe’s sister) might hope we find God in all people.  She would encourage us to express gratitude and create joy, in everything we have; and to lead our communities in song and in dance. Batya. (Pharaoh’s daughter) would encourage us to stretch out our arms and gather the abundance that lies in unexpected places, just a bit beyond our reach.  Each of us is made in the image of God, she might say, regardless of our differences.  Shifra and Puah, the Hebrew midwives, implore us to embrace each human soul, in all of its diversity; to have respect and awe for the dignity and sanctity of all living things, including the environment. Tziporrah, Moshe’ wife, would advise us to hold dear our own sense of the Divine and to reflect the spark of the Divine we see in each other.  She would urge us to follow our own wise instincts; to know we answer to a “higher authority”, not an earthly mortal one. 

H\elp us strive to see the spark of the divine in all the people with whom you surround yourself. Take in their love, even as you give your own.  Attend to the caregiving that needs to be done and let yourself be cared for.  Bring joy, laughter and love into your lives, regardless of what is going on in the larger world!



[1] Rabbi Sharon Cohen Anisfeld, News and Views, “Dear Friends”

[2] RL Jonathan Sacks, Shemot (5774) – Women as Leaders

[3] Praise her works, conversations with biblical women, edited by Penina Adelman, p. 43

[4] IBID

[5] Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks z”l Shemot (5774) – Women as Leaders

Thursday, November 14, 2019

The power of light, the blessings of gratitude and prayers of hope and possibility


We have turned the clocks back an hour.  Darkness regularly descends into our lives in mid-afternoon, now. As we approach Thanksgiving, winter in general and Chanukah in particular, how can we focus on bringing light into our world-into the world at large, our own TBS community and not least of all, into our own individual lives?
All over the world today, we are faced with racism, anti-semitism and hatred.  The threat of white supremacists, hard at work defiling real and virtual spaces with graffiti and policies that are similarly intended to make the United States and Europe narrow and intolerant places, weighs heavily upon us.  There is a story that will help us focus on a broad, bigger picture; one that is profoundly Jewish and magnificently American- when America is at its best. It is about the power of light and the blessings of faith; in God, in ourselves, in each other and in community.  It is a story with which you may be familiar.
Like the ancient tale, the story of Hanukkah in Billings, Montana 1993, bears repeating and reconsideration.  That year a group of white supremacists moved into town. It was part of a larger and broader movement to make the region one that was ‘safe’ from gays, blacks, Jews, and all the other groups that did not fit into the narrow bigoted vision those racists were trying to make a reality. Not content to simply think these ideas, the white supremacists began covering Native American and African American gathering places and churches with vitriolic graffiti. The good folk of Billings would come together to wash the sites and show solidarity with those under attack, but the general trend of hatred continued.
The turning point came when a 5-year-old Jewish boy by the name of Isaac Schnitzer displayed a drawing of a Hanukkah menorah in his window, and a brick was thrown through the window, into his bedroom. His mother reported the incident to the local paper.  They printed a paper menorah along with an editorial requesting people of all faiths display them in their windows.
The majority of the population of Billings, Montana was and still is white and Christian. Their personal safety was not under threat. Their humanity was not under assault. Yet, they understood that there was something much bigger at stake.  Across Billings, people of all backgrounds began to display either the paper menorahs or other versions, fighting against a narrow vision of their community.  There was pushback. Some churches and Christian homes had their windows broken. Signs promoting tolerance were shot at. But, in the end, the violence abated and the general attacks ceased.  The ancient Hanukkah story and that of Montana 1993, share the theme of light triumphing over darkness.   
We live in uncertain times; times when it is often hard to uncover light, which is so easily suffocated by darkness. I conclude with words of hope from my friend and colleague, Rabbi Jessica Kate Meyers:Rebecca Solnit writes in her book “Hope in the Dark”: ‘Hope locates itself in the premises that we don’t know what will happen and that in the spaciousness of uncertainty is room to act.’ I pray for the Spiritual resistance to enter each day with a sense that redemption is possible, a sense of hope, a sense that the ofek, the horizon out there, no matter how far, is reachable, and requires that I get to work.”[1]   
Yes, the uncertainty of it all is terrifying.  How much easier it would be to know the end. But hope and possibility insert themselves into the story of uncertainty.  To maintain hope and to imagine possibility is more emotionally demanding than despair and…more frightening. And, especially when we join together, immeasurably more rewarding.

I wish you light and love, joy and peace during the months of winter darkness.  I look forward to coming together with you whenever possible, to share Torah and song and prayer.

Rabbi Ma’ayan Sands, 17 Cheshvan 5780, November 16, 2019     





[1] Rabbi Jessica Kate Meyers, d’var Torah on Vayera