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Shabbat Shalom: Parshat Bo Exodus 10:1-13:16
By Shlomo Riskin |
Efrat, Israel – The commandment given to the Jewish
people by God must not be seen as a commandment which “just happens”
to be first. Rather, it must have special significance, and have been
chosen as the cardinal commandment. It must also reveal basic
philosophic truths about who we are as a nation.
We read in Bo, this week’s portion: “This month shall be head month
to you. It shall be the first month of the year.” (Exodus 12:2) The
Midrash tells us it is necessary for G-d to actually guide Moses’ gaze
toward the sky so that when the new moon looks like “this ...,” he
should sanctify it.
There are many traces in our halachic ritual of an ancient practice
where witnesses who first saw the new moon would rush to the Sanhedrin
in Jerusalem, even desecrating the Sabbath if necessary, in order for
the Religious Court to declare: “The month is sanctified, the month is
sanctified.”
The first day of the month, Rosh Chodesh, is a minor festival. On the
Sabbath before a new month, the moon’s re-appearance, to a fraction of
a second, is announced after the public Torah reading, echoing the
Sanhedrin’s public declaration. On Rosh Chodesh itself, during the
Amida and the grace after Meals, we add a special prayer, Ya’ale
Veyauo, and chant the Half-Hallel during the morning service. There is a
special scriptural reading, just like any festival, and we add the
additional Musaf prayer, a reminder of the extra sacrifice in the
Temple. Women are freed from certain domestic tasks, and fasting and
eulogizing are forbidden. During the first days of the new month,
generally when the Sabbath lets out, Saturday evening, special prayers
are recited and Jews even dance in a circle while gazing at the new moon
in a ceremony called “sanctifying the moon.” Thus, we still need to
understand why, out of so many possible commandments, the Torah chose
this one to introduce the Jewish people to their future destiny, and why
there is so much fascination with the moon.
There are many possible answers, but this week ours begins in Egypt, a
land where the calendar followed the sun. The Maharal of Prague points
out that when the Jews were given this first commandment, they were
actually given more than just a law telling them to start counting
months according to lunar cycles — it emphasized a new way of life
that would stand in sharp contrast to Egypt.
The sun is symbolic of constancy and power — the very image of Egypt.
Except for gray clouds (not too many in Egypt), every day the sun’s
warmth and light reaches someone in the world — 365 days a year, we
trust the sun to rise and set. There’s nothing new under the sun
because the sun sees and oversees everything in an unchanging fashion.
But under the moon, there is something new at least 12 times a year. It
is forever changing, going through its phases, getting smaller and
smaller, and then bigger and bigger. When it seems to have disappeared
completely, there’s a sudden turnaround and rebirth. To the ancient
imagination, the permutation of the moon in its 28 day journeys were a
constant source of heavenly wonder and speculation.
The Holy Zohar compares the Jewish people to the moon because both the
moon and the people of Israel go through phases, disappearing little by
little until it seems that it’s the end; centuries-long exile
climaxing in Europe’s death factories. Suddenly, a new moon is sighted
and the messengers run to Jerusalem.
The repetition of a monthly cycle, this law of change, firmly
established within the Jewish psyche the inevitability of renewal. Our
sanctity as a nation is tied to this potential of renewal, and our
history attests to the termination of a Jewish culture in one land and
the almost simultaneous appearance of a new Jewish culture in a
different land. Like the moon, our disappearance is never forever.
The first Torah commandment is given when it’s clear that Pharaoh
himself cannot change. After nine terrifying plagues, one might expect
him to have a change of heart, but the leader of Egypt cannot relent.
Despite all that he has witnessed, he refuses to let the Jews go. The
message of this first commandment is that in contrast to the blind
Egyptians (darkness is the ninth plague) the Jews can, and do, change,
emerging again and again out of the fangs of evil to enter the gates of
redemption.
Rabbi Kook, Israel’s first chief Rabbi, often wrote of the old being
made new, and the new becoming holy. I have a good friend, Yehuda, from
Kibbutz Ein Tzurim. Years back, a parent of one of the kibbutznikim, a
resident of Kfar Chassidim near Haifa, died and several of us from Ein
Tzurim headed north. Before the funeral actually started, the head of
the town’s yeshiva, a man dressed in the typical black hat and coat of
a Rosh Yeshiva from the old world, stepped outside with several
students, the clothes in sharp contrast to the light shirts and summer
shorts of the kibbutznikim. I sensed that the Rosh Yeshiva looked
disdainfully upon these men, though they wore kippot and were from a
religious kibbutz. All of sudden his eyes fell on my friend Yehuda, and
he cried out to him in Yiddish: “Yudke? Is that you?” It turned out
that the two had been students together in a yeshivah in Petach Tikva.
The Rosh Yeshiva then asked the kibbutznik why someone as brilliant as
he had been, interrupted his talmudic studies and left yeshiva world.
“I wouldn’t think that our Rosh Yeshiva, Rav Shach, would have you
go.” “You’re right. Rav Shach wrote many letters to dissuade me.”
Thundered the head of the yeshiva: “And those letters will be the
prosecuting attorney when you stand before the heavenly throne.”
Ordinarily a reserved man, Yehuda stood his ground: “And the kibbutz I
helped start, Ein-Tzurim, will be my defense attorney. And I think this
attorney will win the case.” His old school mate was taken aback by
the answer and said, almost admiringly, “You’ve stayed the same.”
Yehuda wouldn’t let the issue drop. “It’s not true, Reb Elya. I
didn’t remain the same, but you remained the same Elya. You are what
you were 30 years ago, a 100 years ago. But I saw G-d’s hand in
history. I saw changes in store for the Jewish people, the creation the
State of Israel, and in accordance with those changes, I changed.”
Shabbat Shalom
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