Parshat Vayera; Exodus 6:2 –9:35 by Rabbi Denise L. Eger

How often do we listen to something but we never really hear it? We may be distracted by others. We may be doing something else when we ought to be listening. Certainly, those of us who are used to multi-tasking reading, talking on the phone and answering email and even driving at the same time know the truth: that we don’t really hear very well even though there is nothing wrong with our ears!

Sometimes when listening to music, if we concentrate we might hear things we never heard before. We might hear the violins of a concerto or pick out the countermelody played by the horn section in a way we never did before. We might hear the background vocals in a popular song that seems to get covered up by the pulsing guitar riffs.

So yes, there are times we listen to sounds or words or music but we don’t really hear them. And this is true of people too. We ask someone upon seeing them, “How are you?” and we expect the pat answer, “Fine. And you?” So we want to hear but we don’t want to listen!

In this week’s portion God tells Moses, “I have now heard the moaning of the Israelites because the Egyptians are holding them in bondage, and I have remembered My Covenant.” (Ex. 6:5) This is a follow up to God’s acknowledgement in last week’s parasha at the Burning Bush to Moses, “ I have marked well the plight of My people in Egypt and have heeded their outcry because of their taskmasters; yes, I am mindful of their sufferings.” (Ex. 3:7)

God has finally heard. God heard them in a new way. Finally, really comprehending their trouble. God has listened to the cries of their terror and suffering and it has reminded God of the covenant that God made with the Israelite’s ancestors.

And so our story of liberation begins. Yes, Moses goes to Pharaoh and demands the Israelite’s freedom. But the story begins with hearing. God’s hearing the children of Israel’s cries and responding.

This will be contrasted with the Pharaoh who will hear Moses but not listen to him nor listen to God. Even when confronted with plagues that will reign down upon the whole of Egypt, Pharaoh will not listen.

This should remind us of our own tasks to really listen to one another; to go beyond the distractions and really focus on the messages before us. In this way we can honor one another and ultimately listen for the voice of the Divine guiding our own lives today!

Parshat Shemot; Exodus 1:1 –6:1 by Rabbi Denise L. Eger

This week we begin the second book of the Torah, Shemot. With this parasha the Jewish people’s journey towards freedom and redemption really begins. The opening lines of the portion remind us that a new king arose who did not know Joseph. And so the fortunes of the Israelites in Egypt take a turn for the worse. Where they were once prosperous sitting near the top of the social pyramid because of their relationship to Joseph, they now sit at the bottom in the class of slaves and conquered foreign workers doomed to a life of hard labor and oppression. The Egyptians’ cruelty to the Israelites knows no bounds as described in the Torah. They force hard labor upon them, oppress them, and murder their babies. Pharaoh says, “ Every boy that is born you shall throw into the Nile, but let every girl live.” (Ex. 1:22).

It is against this backdrop of fear, terror and subjugation that the infant Moses is born. Moses who would become the great leader of the Israelites, chosen by God, does not meet the cruel fate of most boy Hebrew children. He is at first hidden by his mother but as he grew it became increasingly difficult to keep him unknown. So when he was three months old, his mother (Yocheved according to the Rabbis) placed him in a wicker basket and set him a sail on the Nile River!

None other than Pharaoh’s daughter rescues Moses while she is bathing in the Nile. She spies the baby in the basket. She recognizes that it must be a Hebrew child but nonetheless takes him in as her own. She offers this child her royal protection.

Her spirit of generosity and caring is in stark contrast to the response of the Pharaoh to the presence of the Israelites. As we will see over the coming weeks as the story of the Israelites in Egypt unfold and the plagues descend in response to Pharaoh’s unwillingness to release the Israelites from slavery, the increasing harshness of his response is met head on by God in the form of the plagues.

And yet, in the opening chapters of Exodus an act of chesed, lovingkindness and generosity performed no less than a daughter of this same Pharaoh!

We learn from this important lessons—that even as we face our enemies who wish to crush us and destroy us, we can not paint each one with the brush of hatred. Individuals still can rise to the level of Pharaoh’s daughter, displaying kindness, peace and love.

It is a reminder to all of us even as our world is more divided.

Parshat Vayechi; Genesis 47:28 –50:26 by Rabbi Denise L. Eger

This last Torah portion of the book of Genesis concludes the story of Jacob and his son Joseph. Jacob lives in the land of Egypt seventeen years before his death. Interestingly, Joseph had been under his father’s care for seventeen years when he was sold into slavery by his brothers and thought of as dead by his father.

Jacob before his death offers a blessing to Joseph in the form of a blessing upon Joseph’s children, Manasseh and Ephraim. These two children are adopted by Jacob as a tribute not only to Joseph’s mother, Rachel whom Jacob still mourns, but also indeed to Joseph himself and their amazing journey that reunited them in Egypt.

Jacob formally adopts Manasseh and Ephraim in a ceremony that reminds us of his own blessing by his father Isaac. The text tells us that “Israel (Jacob’s) eyes were dim with age he could not see” (Gen.48:10). This reminds us of Isaac who had similar eye problems and because his vision was so poor, Jacob was able to fool his father into receiving his older brother’s blessing. Esau should have received the blessing but Jacob took it away. And now when he, Jacob, is preparing to give Joseph’s sons his own blessing, he crosses his hands, placing his right hand upon the younger son, Ephraim and the left upon Manasseh the older son. His right hand is symbolic, in this case of strength and of receiving the first blessing.

Even when Joseph tries to stop his father’s blessing, pointing out the error, Jacob stands firm to his belief that the younger shall be the stronger one. Jacob says, “I know, my son, I know. He too shall become a people and he too shall be great. Yet his younger brother shall be greater than, he, and his offspring shall be plentiful enough for nations.” (Gen. 48:19). And to this day when we bless our sons, we say, “May God make you like Ephraim and Manasseh.” Indeed the younger comes before the older.

This theme of the older serving the younger child has played itself out through several generations now. Certainly, Isaac the younger brother to Ishmael became the way the people Israel traced their ancestry. And of course, Isaac’s youngest son Jacob, is the Israelite patriarch. Joseph dreams of his older brothers serving him and indeed they do. And now in Joseph’s own family, Ephraim takes precedence over Manasseh. This emphasis on changing the status quo, which typically meant the oldest male child, received the lion’s share of inheritance, family privilege and yes, blessing creates a thread that ought to inform us today.

As Jews, we ought not be afraid to examine convention. Our ancestors were able to break with tradition and surrounding cultures. It should give us strength to do the same when it doesn’t meet our needs and more importantly when it clashes with our covenantal responsibilities. We ought to be able to look closely at how we have done something and turn it on its side to gain a new perspective. That is what our tradition has done here. Just because birth order determined so much in the ancient world—our tradition is to turn that birth order literally upside down. It should give us comfort and some insight into ways of doing things now. Not just because we’ve always done so—but perhaps the creativity is what God really wants of us. Perhaps God wants us to look beyond birth order to talents, strengths, and individual traits in how we can best serve our families and communities and indeed how we can best serve God.

Parshat Vayyigash, Genesis 44:18–47:27 by Rabbi Denise L. Eger

With this week’s portion, Israel moves to Egypt. After Joseph has revealed himself to his brothers (and they recover from the shock!), Joseph invites the brothers to get their father Jacob and return to Egypt. This invitation was not only Joseph’s desire but also the invitation of Pharaoh himself.

But this presents a dilemma for the brothers. The secret that they have kept from their father Jacob, namely wild beasts did not kill Joseph, but rather that Joseph alive and is now second in command only to Pharaoh in Egypt must be revealed. The brothers have a chance to come clean. And yet, the Torah does not exactly say that the brothers told their father of their betrayal of their brother so long ago. It says instead “they recounted all that Joseph had said to them,”(Gen 45:27). Did the brothers recount the whole story? Did they tell of selling him into slavery as retaliation for his favorite son status? Or did they merely pick up the story of Joseph’s rise to power, shading the story to alleviate their guilt and their sin?

As you can imagine Jacob the father was incredulous at the news. For years he mourned the death of his favored son, Joseph. He believed he had died. And now the brothers brought new not only of that he was alive but the most powerful person in Egypt save Pharaoh. This is a lot to take in at one time. And Jacob seems to have fainted. The torah says, “His heart went numb, ” (Gen 45:26) and then we are told later, “ The spirit of their father revived.” (Gen 45:27). Such shocking news to an old man was bound to have that effect. The father can only think of being reunited with the son and demands to be taken to see him.

And thus Jacob and the entire household go down to Egypt. Setting in motion the beginning of our stay that would culminate more than 400 years later in the Exodus from Egypt.

The Midrash teaches an important lesson however from this week’s parasha on the effect of dishonesty. The brothers’ deception of their father in the “death” of Joseph comes back to haunt them. When the brothers lied and told him Joseph was dead he (Jacob) believed them; when they spoke the truth and said that Joseph was alive he (Jacob) disbelieved them. This is the punishment of liars; even when they speak the truth they are not believed. (As quoted in URJ Plaut Chumash, p. 292)

Thus we learn that the lies the brothers told come back full circle to haunt them at a later time. This no less true today. An endeavor that begins in falsehood will only end at a later time in falsehood and deceit. It takes courage to come clean. It is too bad the brothers have not come clean with their father about their role and their betrayal of both Joseph and Jacob for they have permanently damaged their relationship with both of them.

Lies have a way of doing that. It damages the fabric of our relationships and ultimately our world. Lies twist and turn the truth and twist and turn our character into shreds of what we once were. Only in confronting our own lies can we rebuild our character and our esteem in the eyes of others.