This week’s parsha has much to unpack, but given the world in January 2022, this Dvar Torah will focus on Mitzrayim and Choshech, Egypt and Darkness. While darkness was the penultimate plague that punished the Egyptian people, choshech seems particularly significant to Mitzrayim.
Mitzrayim is the Hebrew name for Egypt. Egypt is a place, a
country on the Northern edge of Africa. Mitzrayim, however, is far more than a
place. It is, according to Jewish tradition, like a state of mind. At the heart
of the word is tzar, which means narrow, and tzara, which means trouble. The
end of the word, is a pluralization, and the mem at the beginning is the preposition
“from.” Mitzrayim, then was a place of narrow troubles.
Mitzrayim was a terrible place for Bnei Yisrael. We faced
almost complete physical and spiritual oblivion, and then came Moshe and the
ten makkos (plagues). It is quite clear in all of Jewish learning that the
Children on Israel were not affected by the plagues. They had water to drink when
the Nile turned to blood. There were no frogs in their beds or lice on their
heads. And, according to the Midrash, during the plague of darkness, they could
see. Indeed, it is generally understood that during the darkness that was so
oppressive that the Mitzrim could not even move, the Israelites followed the
Divine command given by Moshe to go into the homes of their Mitzri neighbors
and assess what silver and gold they had. They took none of it during choshech
but went back to ask for it in the hours leading up to their departure.
There is another significant Midrash about Mitzrayim that
tells us that during the plague of darkness many Bnei Yisrael died. Shocking as
this may sound since the plagues were meant to be part of the vehicle of redemption,
these were the men and women who did not care enough about their natural
heritage to take the risk of faith. These were the people who, even after sign
after sign after sign, could not or would not believe that the Divine hand
would protect them. These, according to the midrash, were a large majority of
Bnei Yisrael. They had the ability to have light and vision, but they chose
darkness.
Just a few years ago, most people rejoiced in the idea that
we were becoming a global economy. Commerce, culture, travel, and information knew
no physical bounds. It seemed the best of times. In just under two years, however, we are
mired in the opposite, in what feels like the worst of times. The world has
narrowed immensely. Travel prohibitions, supply shortages, and government
regulations have pushed us back into the tzarim, into the narrow places. Personal travails, negative media portrayals,
and national devastation by a seemingly endless parade of unveiled scandals have
made us aware of our tzaras, our troubles.
In Mitzrayim, we were slaves. In Mitzrayim, we were loathed
by the people around us. As the horrors of the plagues mounted, as life became
more and more difficult for the Mitzrim but not for the Israelites the
antipathy only grew. Yes, by the later plagues the Mitzrim were telling Pharoah
to let the Israelites go, but it was from fear and anger and resentment. And then
came choshech. Three days of unfathomable darkness. We cannot understand what
that darkness was, physically, as it is not something anyone else has ever
experienced, but we can certainly understand the metaphorical meaning of
darkness.
As noted earlier, the tzar of mitzrayim means both narrow
places and trouble. Perhaps some of Bnei Yisrael were trapped in Mitzrayim spiritually.
They were drawn to the taivas (desires), to the physicality, to the
sexualities, to the idolatry, and etc, that were rampant in the culture of
Mitzrayim. Others of Bnei Yisrael, however, were trapped in MItzrayim
physically, by the slavery and their inability to pull themselves out of a
place they knew was bad. These Bnei Yisrael suffered from tzaros, from
troubles. When the plague of darkness came, those Israelites who were deeply
connected to Mitzrayim were the ones who could not leave their narrow places,
who could not envision living a completely different type of life, one
dedicated to kedusha.
It often feels like we are living in the worst of times. The
last generation or two of North American Jews found it improbable to believe
that anti-Semitism was still a real problem. And yet as the world has
constricted, as political unrest and pandemic decline has made its impact, anti-Semitism
is on the rise. The world has entered a period of darkness, a period of chaos
and distress. And now we must realize the metaphoric statement that not all of
us will emerge from the darkness.
The Midrash specifies that only 1/5th of Bnei
Yisrael went out of Mitzrayim. That means that eighty percent of Bnei Yisrael
died during choshech. Eighty percent of Bnei Yisrael, refused to metaphorically
see the light, to choose to walk in the ways of their forefathers and live by
the anthropological term “ethical monotheism.” Eighty percent of the people were
stuck in the narrow confines. This idea does not help us understand why people
we expect to be honest and good and holy do bad things, but perhaps it helps us
put into perspective how times of darkness can shape the future.
According to Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch (I believe), when
the Mitzrim came out of the darkness and saw that the Israelites had been able
to move but none of their possessions had been taken, they became aware of the
moral distinction of Bnei Yisrael. Let us clarify that – they became aware of
the moral distinction of 1/5th of the Israelite slaves whom they had
loathed and oppressed. Because of this new awareness, they freely gave the gold
or silver that the Israelites then requested because they were now aware of the
harm they had done to them.
Yetziyas Mitzrayim, the way in which Bnei Yisrael was
removed from Mitzrayim, had purpose. Hashem could simply have changed the mindf-rame
of the Egyptian nation just as He hardened the heart of Pharoah. Indeed, Hashem
could have frozen the Mitzrim on day one and had Bnei Yisrael walk straight out
of Egypt, taking the necessities as they left. But every part of Yetziyas
Mitzrayim had purpose that echoes through the generations.
In times of travail, in times when everything seems to be
terrible, we are given a choice. We can choose to be like those Bnei Yisrael who
were stuck in their narrow ways, or we can be like those Bnei Yisrael who knew
that they were suffering but chose to see through the darkness. It isn’t easy.
Imagine three days of walking about with many of your neighbors frozen and watching
many of your brethren falling to their lack of faith. Hold strong my friends,
for after the darkness comes freedom.
This Dvar Torah is dedicated to a refuah shelaima for Rivkah
bas Golda, and lilui neshama Dovid Chaim ben Shmuel Yosef HaCohen.
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