"To be a teacher in the right sense is to be a learner.  I am not a teacher, only a fellow student."  (Soren Kierkegaard)

• Home
• Professional Staff
• Board of Directors
• Calendar
• Ritual Events
• Education
  • Religious School
  • Adult Education
• Auxiliary Organizations
  • Youth Groups
  • Old Enough To Know Better
  • 50 is the New 30
  • Sisterhood
  • Men's Club
• Tikkun Olam
• Cemetery
• Volunteer Opportunities
• Donations & Payments
• Beth Sholom News
• Contact Us

A FEW PRE-SHABBAT WORDS FROM RABBI AARON

Reflecting Upon Slavery

[Note: this drash, published back in 1996, was written by Rabbi Eliezer Finkelman. I had the pleasure of hearing him share Torah in his shul in Berkeley, California. My sister Judy and her family are members at Congregation Beth Israel as well as Netivot Shalom. Rabbi Finkelman has moved on to another congregation (not sure where; my sister probably knows).  Rereading this 13-year old piece, I'm struck by its fierce relevance today.]

In this week's parasha the family of Jacob goes down from the Promised Land to Egypt. Their status changes over the course of the years from honored guests of the Pharaoh to his hated and despised slaves. Modern people have become accustomed to see history as contingent: Things happen because they happen.

This decent from freedom and independence in our destined homeland to slavery in a foreign land does not just happen. It was foretold to Abraham [Genesis 15:13-14]. The Divine plan included a descent into foreign slavery.

Why? Perhaps, the conventional wisdom goes, so that Jews could ultimately look back on our years as slaves. The Bible repeats this warning many times:  “you shall not oppress the stranger, since you know the heart of the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt” [Exodus 23:9].  Knowing the feelings of the powerless should help us behave compassionately even when we exercise power.

Note, however, that this conventional wisdom assumes that we ought, at some time, to have power. It does not allow us the ideal of powerlessness. Lord Acton observed, famously, that "power tends to corrupt."  Hans Morgenthau went further: "The political act is inevitably evil.” I once heard an inter-religious colloquy in which the spokespersons for various faiths fought for the high ground, each claiming that his or her faith endorsed the purest pacifism. Only the rabbi on the panel, an honest man, did not join in denouncing political authority.

Indeed, political authority seems an unavoidable condition of the world in which we live. If our morality were to insist that we avoid political authority in order to remain pure, it would thereby belong on some nicer planet. Morality would apply beautifully in Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood and would make no claims on actual political leaders.  Torah demands that we behave well even when we have the power to do otherwise. Consider that the Torah expects us to imagine slavery and become compassionate. Identifying with past weakness may make people kind, but it is not inevitable. In the United States today we witness the unedifying spectacle of various ethnic groups competing in the comparative victimization sweepstakes, with the winner entitled to extra rights. All over the world individuals imagine the past weakness of their people and seek bloody revenge.

The Torah calls upon us to remember our years of slavery, and our long years of exile, and to behave with compassion at all times, but especially when we live in our own state.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Aaron