January 22nd: Bo
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
As dramatic and redeeming as the story of the Exodus is, there are some troubling passages. One is in this week’s portion, and it deals with items our ancestors borrow/steal from their Egyptian neighbors. This part of the story is mentioned three times.
It is first foretold in Genesis 15.14 when God is sketching out the future for Abraham’s family: “Know well that your offspring shall be strangers in a land not theirs, and they shall be enslaved and oppressed 400 years; but I will execute judgment on the nation they shall serve, and in the end they shall go free with great wealth.”
The second iteration is Exodus 3.21-22 when Moses is getting instructions from God: “I will dispose the Egyptians favorably toward this people, so that when you go, you will not go away empty-handed. Each woman shall borrow from her neighbor and the lodger in her house objects of silver and gold, and clothing, and you shall put these on your sons and daughters, thus stripping the Egyptians.”
This week, in Exodus 12/33-26, we have the report of the actual occurrence. After the tenth and final plague, “The Egyptians urged the (Hebrew) people on, impatient to have them leave the country, for they said, ‘We shall all be dead.’ So the people took their dough before it was leavened, their kneading bowls wrapped in their cloaks upon their shoulders. The Israelites had done Moses’ bidding and borrowed from the Egyptians objects of silver and gold, and clothing. And the Lord had disposed the Egyptians favorably toward the people, and they let them have their request; thus they stripped the Egyptians.”
As one can imagine, the Tradition has a variety of voices commenting on this episode. Since God commands it, many assume that this “borrowing” is just, a punishment for all those years of slavery and oppression. Other commentators explain God’s instruction in terms of the ultimate use of the gold and silver: this is what the Israelites donate to build the Mishkan, the portable Temple Tent we construct in the wilderness.
Rabbi Mary Zamore (in this week’s Ten Minutes of Torah from the Union for Reform Judaism) sees the gold and silver as reparations for the wrongs done to our ancestors. She sees in Exodus a Biblical precedent for the United States to pay reparations to African Americans for their 400 years of oppression. It is an interesting application, but to my mind a bit stretched. In most conversations about reparations, the goal is to provide appropriate compensation for pain and suffering AND lost wealth. In this story, we are talking about the few valuables of poor neighbors. Who else would be the Israelites’ neighbors but other poor people? How would robbing them penalize the real cause of the slavery, Pharaoh and the aristocrats who were surely not living next door?
In any event, there is an ethic of just revenge in both the Torah and in some commentators.
Other commentators, however, view the incident with embarrassment. How could we do such a thing, “borrowing” when we have no intention of returning the items? There is even the opinion that this immoral thievery comes back to bite us. Some commentators say that this stolen gold and silver is what we use to build the Golden Calf—that the evil of the original deed propels us to the even worse sin of idolatry.
I think we all understand revenge. When we are hurt or oppressed or cheated, we want justice. We want the violation of our sensibilities to be erased and assuaged, and revenge often appears to be the best and most direct way. In some situations, this is certainly the case. However, in others, one wonders how helpful the revenge turns out to be.
A simple text for ascertaining the wisdom and goodness of an action comes in the Rotary Club’s Four Way Test. The test suggests judging possible actions or policies with these four questions:
(1) It is the truth?
(2) Is it fair to all concerned?
(3) Will it build goodwill and better friendships?
(4) Will it be beneficial to all concerned?
As much as we may yearn for payback, it may behoove us to consider the long-range consequences of revenge or retaliation or any kind of “justice.” I am not speaking against compensation or punishment for wrongs committed, but I am wondering about how it can be structured or arranged to make things better in the future.
There may be situations in which oppressors or wrong-doers need to be eliminated—destroyed or killed as in God’s punishment of Egypt. Most situations are different, however, and call for “the bad guys” to be persuaded to repent—to turn from the Sitra Achra (Dark Side) to goodness. When we look around today and see the many examples of injustice, oppression, and wrongdoing, we need to ask ourselves: Is this an elimination situation or a persuasion situation? Which will bring about the best results in the long run?
A guiding principle in our deliberations comes from Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Despite the profound hostility he faced in his striving for social justice, he maintained, “I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear.” A parallel approach can be found Rabbinic Judaism. As you may remember from my Rosh Hashanah sermon, Dr. Yehuda Kurtzer of the Shalom Hartman Institute summarizes the Rabbinic philosophy with, “For the Rabbis, the antidote for injustice is not a passion for justice. Rather it is a passion for lovingkindness.” Chesed / Lovingkindness is not only something we receive from God. It is a human possibility as well and a guiding principle as we try to fix our world.
I do not judge our ancient ancestors too harshly. Who knows how I might respond after a lifetime of slavery and oppression? Who knows whom I may identify as an oppressor—or collaborator or enabler? Who knows what I might have “borrowed” from my neighbor as I made my escape?
However, when I consider modern wrongs and modern anger, I hope we can muster expansive vision, looking down the road and remedying wrongs with responses and policies that will be beneficial to all concerned—building goodwill and better friendships.