Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Divrei Rav Josh- Parshat Yitro: Embracing the Gift of Torah


Every time I sit synagogue in and hear Parshat Yitro read, or study a piece of the parasha with a hevruta, I always find myself trying to imagine the scene as the Israelites stood at the foot of Mount Sinai, and how that scene attempted to imprint a message upon the Israelites and the generations that would follow.   Indeed, God tells Moses to inform the Israelites the receiving of the Torah should be an everlasting vision for all future generations:

“Then Moses went up to God, and the Lord called to him from the mountain and said, “This is what you are to say to the descendants of Jacob and what you are to tell the people of Israel: ‘You yourselves have seen what I did to Egypt, and how I carried you on eagles’ wings and brought you to myself.  Now if you obey me fully and keep my covenant, then out of all nations you will be my treasured possession. Although the whole earth is mine, you will be for me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.’ These are the words you are to speak to the Israelites”” (Exodus 19:3-6).

As I read this passage, I try to imagine how the words that God spoke to the Israelites on that day, and how I, a twenty-first century Jew, should keep this image with me in my everyday practice as a Jew, a question not lost upon our ancient and modern rabbinic commentators.   

When our commentators imagine the scene at Har Sinai, they imagine that the equivalent of a spiritual wedding took place between God and the Israelites when the Torah was received.   A midrash states the following:

“"And Moshe brought the people out of the camp to meet with God" (Shemot 19:17).  Rabbi Yose said: Yehuda would expound: "And he said, The Lord came from Sinai" (Devarim 33:2).  Do not read thus, but rather: "The Lord came to Sinai" – to give the Torah to Israel.  Or perhaps you should not say this, but rather: "The Lord came from Sinai" – to receive Israel, like a bridegroom who goes out to meet his bride” (Mekhilta de-Rabbi Yishmael, Massekhet Ba-Hodesh, Yitro, Parasha 3).

In the midrash, the receiving of the Torah is seen as the culmination of a courtship between God and the Israelites, where the act of receiving the Torah becomes the moment in which the eternal relationship between God and the Israelites becomes officially sanctified.   

However, while it would make sense for us to see the Israelites’ receipt of the Torah as an act of marriage between God and the Jewish people, the question remains as how we are to understand the way in which the relationship between the Jewish people and the God can remain meaningful, even generations upon generations after the moment in which the Torah was received.   For this answer, we can turn to the early modern sage Rabbi Elijah ben Solomon, otherwise known as the “Vilna Gaon,” who writes that the Torah is meant to be the eternal sign of God’s love of the Jewish people, even when God appears absent.  The Vilna Gaon writes:

‘What is the concept of the covenant [brit]?  It is similar to one who loves another but is unable to embrace him.  Because of this situation, the [lover] gives the beloved something that expresses his feelings for his beloved.  The gift keeps them connected and bound together.  And even though he is not present, all of his thoughts are placed in this object.   This is what is meant by the term “brit,” for it is a promise based on this object that he will not “leave” his beloved” (Elijah ben Solomon, Sefer Yetzirah, Chapter 1, Section 8).

In the Vilna Gaon’s commentary, while the giving of the Torah marked the moment God and the Jewish people became united for eternity, the Torah itself represents a piece of God that the Israelites can keep with them in order to remember that, no matter how distant God may appear, there is always a piece of God that is close to their hearts.  By extension, the Vilna Gaon also wants us to understand that because the Torah is a piece of God given to us, Torah study becomes the way in which we can constantly cultivate an intimate relationship with the divine.   Professor Eliyahu Stern explains the Gaon’s perspective on this matter in the following way:

“[the Vilna Gaon] was not simply arguing for the centrality of Torah study in the context of the broader Jewish community in which some devote themselves to study while the overwhelming majority labor as tradesmen and merchants.   Instead, Elijah [the Vilna Gaon] proposed that Torah study offered the sole means through which one could cultivate a spiritual relationship with the Divine” (Eliyahu Stern, The Genius: Elijah of Vilna and the Making of Modern Judaism, 93).

Stern’s analysis brings to light the Vilna Gaon’s intent to remind us that Torah study is the only means that one regularly encounters God, as Torah study is the sole means by which a person can link themselves to the moment of consummation between God and the Jewish people that we read about in Parshat Yitro.   Whether or not we agree with the Vilna Gaon’s perspective, the Gaon’s commentary does remind us that Torah study is a singularly unique aspect of Jewish practice, as learning a text linked to one of the Torah’s central moments places us back at the center of God’s ongoing revelation.   

This Saturday night, the Schechter School of Long Island will be hosting a night of Jewish learning centered around the Conservative Movement’s publication of The Observant Life, a monumental work of scholarship focusing on Jewish life and living in the twenty-first century.   Over twenty authors and rabbis from across the denominational spectrum will come to Schechter to teach about the ways in which Jewish living inspires and challenges us in every generation, providing an everlasting link to the revelatory union that took place in this week’s parasha.  Today, when we study Torah, we are taking hold of that gift God gave us at Har Sinai, one that reminds each of us the way in which God remains present in our hearts, our souls, and minds.   May each of us be worthy of making Torah a part of us, allowing us to cultivate a relationship to God that is powerful, meaningful and passionate.   

Shabbat Shalom!


Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Divrei Rav Josh- Parshat Beshallah: Jumping into the Sea of Knowledge

In her study of classroom relationships between teachers and students, Miriam Raider-Roth writes in her book Trusting What You Know that students can stop trusting their own knowledge when they feel that their teacher is sending signals that the student is weak or beyond fixing.   In one account, Raider-Roth share the story of Maya, who speaks about how, in spite of the fact that she knew she was good at math, the signals send by her teachers caused her to doubt her own abilities.  Regarding Maya, Raider-Roth writes:

“...Maya recognizes that when teachers doubt her capacities and impose their perspectives on her, she too begins to doubt her own abilities.  She astutely reads her teachers’ cues, and even though her fifth-grade teacher did not say that she was a poor math student, she could “sense” his thoughts through his actions, like placing her in a lower math group.   Yet at the same time that Maya doubts her abilities, she believes that she knows the math and asserts that the teacher placed her in a lower group “even though I know it perfectly well.”  I am sensing that while Maya’s teachers’ perceptions of her can undermine her trust in herself, they do not undermine what she actually knows” (Miriam Raider-Roth, Trusting What You Know, page 67).

What I loved about this passage was the way in which Raider-Roth captures the delicate balance between a student’s ability to trust their knowledge and, by extension, take risks in the classroom, and a teacher’s role in helping that student build a foundation of trust in their own knowledge and in the teacher.   This balance is reflected in the central event of Parshat Beshallah, where our rabbis’ understanding of how and why the Israelites went into the sea shows the benefits of what happens when someone trusts what they know, and trusts that their is someone supporting them along the way.

In spite of the numerous miracles that the Israelites witnessed in Egypt, when standing at the foot of the sea, the Israelites quickly came to doubt whether or not God’s providence would help them as the Egyptian troops were quickly approaching in the distance.  The Torah states:

“Terribly frightened, the children of Israel cried to the Lord.  They said to Moses, ‘Is it because there are no graves in Egypt that you have taken us to die in the wilderness?  What have you done to us to bring us out of Egypt?’” (Shemot 14:10-11).

Noticing the Israelites’ hesitancy when standing at the foot of the sea, our rabbinic commentators attempt to analyze why the Israelites felt the way that they did, who stepped forward and why, and what each of these things can tell us about the relationship between God and the Jewish people.

In a famous text from the Talmud, the rabbis imagined a scenario while the Israelites rebelled at the sea, Moses became preoccupied in prayer to God, and it was only the bravery of Nahshon ben Aminadab that ultimately resulted in the parting of the sea.   The text states the following:

“Rabbi Yehudah said to Rabbi Meir: When standing at the Sea of Reeds…each of the tribes of Israel were too frightened to enter the sea.  With the waters raging, Nahshon son of Aminadav went forward and jumped into the raging waters of the sea…When he jumped in the sea, Moses was preoccupied by trying to prayer to God.  So the Holy One, blessed be God, said to Moses, “My children are drowning in the sea while you are praying!”  Moses, said, “Lord of the Universe, what is there in my power to do?”  God replied to Moses, “Speak to the children of Israel and raise your staff to make yourself God.”  [Then Moses lifted up his staff and the sea split]” (Babylonian Talmud, Sotah 37a).

The first time I read this text, I was struck by what the rabbis I wanted to teach us by stating that it was not Moses, but Nahshon, a fairly ordinary Israelite, who was the one who had the courage to jump into the sea when the Israelites would not.   We could imagine a scenario where a story was told that Moses jumped into the sea first in order to teach about how we can learn about faith and leadership from our greatest prophet.  However, in choosing Nahshon as the figure who jumped into the sea, I would argue that the rabbis are trying to remind us that any Jewish person is capable to taking the kind of bold action necessary to lead others.   One need not be Moses in order to be a leader; one only needs to be a Nahshon.

In a later commentary on the legend of Nahshon, the Meshekh Hokhmah, the Torah commentary of Rabbi Meir Simhah Ha-Kohen of Dvinsk, argues that it was the willingness to the jump into the sea that led God to part the sea, as the Israelites were rewarded for their willingness to take a risk.  The commentary states:

“The Mekhiltah comments (on Shemot 14:14-15): “Rabbi Joshua said: God said to Moses: ‘Moses!  The Israelites have only to march forward.’”  We must understand this to mean that the Israelites usually followed Moses as sheep do the shepherd.  But at the sea God told Moses to follow the people relying on their faith in him to walk straight into the seat.  In virtue of their act of walking straight into the water the sea would divide for them.  The sea did indeed divide in virtue of their plunging straight into the sea with Moses behind them.  The Mekhiltah accordingly comments: ‘while they were debating, Nahshon plunged into the sea...’  This is the context of the order: ‘Tell the children of Israel to march forward’- they will march forward with you behind them and in reward for this the sea will divide” (Meshekh Hokhmah).  

In this commentary, the Israelites needed to rely on faith alone for the sea to part, for God would not bring a miracle unless he knew the Israelites were ready to act on their own.   As a result, the Meshekh Hokhmah’s commentary sets up a unique partnership between God and the Jewish people, where the Jewish people must take risks in order to grow, while God is the guide on the side who will pull them and aide them in the people’s process of coming to live a life of Torah.

One of the things that Dr. Ari Yares, our Upper School Principal, likes to say is that education is about taking risks, a sentiment with which I wholeheartedly agree.   What we can learn from Parshat Beshallah, and from Maya in Miriam Raider-Roth’s study, is that the trust in your own ability and knowledge alongside a ‘higher authority’ (divine or human) that looks after you is a recipe for helping someone to take the risks necessary to achieving maximal growth.  May each of us merit to build an educational community of passionate risk-takers, and caring educational guides, willing to jump into the sea knowledge, and embrace the new and unknown.   

Shabbat Shalom!

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Divrei Rav Josh- Parshat Bo: Drum Majors for God

As we approach Martin Luther King Jr. Day, and celebrate the illustrious career of this civil rights leader, many of us will see videos and hear recitations of his famous “I Have a Dream” speech.  While I would never discount the importance of that most important public address by Dr. King, my favorite speech by King is actually a speech he gave in 1968 called “The Drum Major Instinct,” where he speaks about what it means to be a leader, and what it means to move people forward to achieve a goal.   In the conclusion of the sermon, King states the following:

“Yes, if you want to say that I was a drum major, say that I was a drum major for justice...Say that I was a drum major for peace...I was a drum major for righteousness. And all of the other shallow things will not matter...I won't have any money to leave behind. I won't have the fine and luxurious things of life to leave behind. But I just want to leave a committed life behind...And that's all I want to say” (Martin Luther King Jr., “The Drum Major Instinct,” 1968).

In this passage, King asks us to view leadership not as a process of being the center of attention for the sake of attention, but causing others to take notice when a person embodies and represents certain core values to society.   This lesson is reflected in this week’s Parshat Bo, where the parasha’s description of the Korban Pesah leads our rabbinic commentators to teach about leadership and the willingness to publicize our most sacred values.

In chapter 12 of Parshat Bo, God commands Moses with the sacrifice of the Korban Pesah, the ritual slaughtering of the lamb that will forever be connected with the holiday of Pesah.  The parasha states the following:

“The Lord said to Moses and Aaron in Egypt,   “This month is to be for you the first month, the first month of your year.   Tell the whole community of Israel that on the tenth day of this month each man is to take a lamb for his family, one for each household.  If any household is too small for a whole lamb, they must share one with their nearest neighbor, having taken into account the number of people there are. You are to determine the amount of lamb needed in accordance with what each person will eat.  The animals you choose must be year-old males without defect, and you may take them from the sheep or the goats.  Take care of them until the fourteenth day of the month, when all the members of the community of Israel must slaughter them at twilight” (Shemot 12:1-6).

In this passage, the Israelites exodus from Egypt is now linked to a particular mitzvah that they must perform each year.  However, it is not immediately as to the purpose of this mitzvah, and how performing it will forever link the Jewish people with their experience in Egypt, a question closely examined by our rabbinic commentators.

In an early midrash, the commandment of the Korban Pesah is linked to the relationship of the Israelites to God more generally, and the midrash argues that the command sought to move the Israelites away from idolatry, and towards worship of their God.   The midrash states:

“So it was with Israel when they were in Egypt that they were given to idolatry and did not forsake it, as it is written: “But they did not every man cast away the abominations of their eyes” (Ezekiel 20:8).  Said the Holy One Blessed be God to Moses: “As long as the Israelites worship the Egyptian gods, they shall be redeemed.  Go and tell them to forsake their every ways and repudiate idolatry- as it is written: “Draw out and take you”- that is to say: Withdraw your hands from idolatry and take you a lamb, and slaughter thereby the gods of Egypt and make the Passover”” (Shemot Rabbah 16:2).

According to the midrash, centuries of living under Egyptian rule made the Israelites too familiar with idolatrous practices.  Furthermore, after assuming that it was their lot in life to be enslaved, and most likely believing that their God was nowhere to be found, the midrash also assumes that the Israelites’ experience in Egypt drew them away from the service of their God.  As result, the midrash reasons that the Korban Pesah exists for the purpose of transitioning the Israelites from a desolate spiritual relationship to God to a newfound relationship with God that will sustain the test of time.

In a later commentary from the nineteenth century, Rabbi Yaakov Tzvi Mecklenburg, whose commentary is known as Ha-Ketev V’HaKabbalah, argues that the Korban Pesah fits into a larger series of actions by God intended to help the Israelites see what possibilities can exist in the divine-human relationship, following the release of the Israelites from Egyptian bondage.   The commentary states:

“The Israelites themselves were responsible in part for deferring their own redemption.  First they had to be purified and show by some outstanding act of self-sacrifice that they had repented of their ways.  If they were willing to place their lives in danger in order to carry out the wishes of the Almighty, that would be a true token of their love of God.  Consequently, God commanded them to slay the Egyptian god under conditions of the widest publicity.  First they had to procure the lamb, lead it through the streets without fear of Egyptian reaction, second, to slaughter it family by family, in groups and finally they had to sprinkle its blood on the doorposts for every Egyptian passer-by to see, braving the vengeance of their former persecutors.  Their fulfillment of every detail of this rite would be a proof of their complete faith in God.  In the words of the Sages, the blood would be a token “to you” and not to others”  (HaKetev V’Ha-Kabbalah).

Mecklenburg’s commentary emphasizes the way in which the Korban Pesah can be seen as an act of civil disobedience, where the Israelites show they willingness to defy the Egyptians’ god, people, and societal conventions all through the performance of this sacrifice.   As a result, the Korban Pesah can be seen as both a public statement of the Israelites’ relationship with their God, and a public refutation of the societal values of a society that gave them such hardship for generations.  Each year that the Israelites make this offering before God, they are renewing their belief in the values that God wanted them to “shout” from the rooftops as the Israelites stood on the precipice of leaving Egypt.

When Dr. King spoke about the “Drum Major Instinct,” he challenged us to think about when we will take the plunge and represent the values that can change society and the world.   Similar to the way in which God’s command of the Korban Pesah challenges the Israelites to speak out about the values they are rejecting in Egyptian society, we have the responsibility to teach our children about how they can be upstanders and represent the values we want to teach them, even when our children face others that may want to reject those values.  As we celebrate Martin Luther King Day, may we help our children see what it means to be drum majors for God, Torah, and the Jewish People, and represent the values that will change them, and change the world.

Shabbat Shalom!

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Divrei Rav Josh- Parshat Vaera: Affirming Our Past and Future

At some point, every student experiences a brick wall in their educational journey, whether it is a problem that they cannot solve, a class they struggle to pass, or a social issue that appears intractable.   As educators, when a student hits that brick wall, we are faced with the task of helping them evaluate how to move forward, while also making our supportive presence known to them in the present.   A similar challenge is placed before God and Moses at the beginning of Parshat Vaera, where Moses is facing a crisis in leadership, after his first attempt at asking Pharaoh to free the Israelites ultimately results in Pharaoh worsening the servitude of the Israelites, and the Israelites telling Moses that they wish Moses never stuck his nose into their business.   

Parshat Vaera opens with God speaking to Moses to help Moses develop the wherewithal to inspire the Israelites to find hope amidst their despair.  However, God’s initial statement to Moses is decidedly ambiguous.  The Torah states:

“And God spoke to Moses, and said to him: I am the Lord.  And I appeared unto Abraham, Isaac and Jacob as El Shaddai, but by my name Adonai I did not make known to them” (Shemot 6:2-3).

At first glance, if one was hoping that God’s statement to Moses would be an emphatic assertion of God’s intent to free the Israelites, the statement “I am the Lord” can seem quite disappointing.  However, our rabbinic commentators see God’s statement in this context as telling us far more than God’s name, for the statement that opens Parshat Vaera simultaneously reminds the Israelites about their past, and their future.

Rashi’s commentary emphasizes the importance of God’s statement for Moses as a leader, as God wants to remind Moses that, in spite of the initial setback, God will make good on his promise to take the Israelites out of Egypt.   Rashi states the following:

“I am the Lord”: faithful to reward those following My path.  I did not send you for nothing, but to fulfill the promise I made to the Patriarchs” (Rashi on Shemot 6:2).

Rashi’s focuses on the fact that the statement “I am the Lord” reminds Moses that a setback does not mean that the mission will be for nothing, and that God will make good on his promise, for the same God who made promises to Abraham is now making promises to Moses and, by extension, the Israelites.

Expanding upon Rashi’s commentary, and drawing attention to how this verse in Parshat Vaera is meant to inspire the Israelites in addition to Moses, the Akedat Yitzhak, which is known as a “super commentary” on Rashi, writes that the statement “I am the Lord”  implicitly provides assurance to the Israelites in a moment of need.   The Akedat YItzhak writes:

“The text, in its plain sense, pinpoints three factors prompting the coming redemption:  The first: natural consideration and love.  God’s intimacy with and love for their ancestors should extend to their descendents.  Second: the covenant- God had to honour this promise.  Third, the justice of their cause- the violence and injustice perpetrated evokes Divine retribution against the author of the injustice in favour of the victims” (Akedat Yitzhak on Shemot 6:2).

According to the Akedat Yitzhak, by simply saying “I am the Lord,” God is reminding the Israelites that not only did he come through for their ancestors in the past, but that God intends to protect the current generation in the present.   As a result, God’s statement Moses is far more than a pronouncement of God’s name, but it is also an announcement of what God’s arrival on the scene should mean for the Israelites, and to the Egyptians.   Commenting upon these commentaries, Nehama Leibowitz:

“God revealed himself here as the promise-keeper- a role designed to raise the morale of both Moses and the people.  But more than the present was involved.  God fortified their spirits by reference to the past- to the promise made to their ancestors.   When you went to Pharaoh to speak in My name you did not limit yourself to My role of: “Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh”- the existential present and henceforth, but also spoke in the name of Him who had revealed Himself at the dawn of your history, who had made a covenant with your ancestors” (Nehama Leibowitz, New Studies in Shemot: Volume 1, 118).

Leibowitz argues that Rashi and the Akedat Yitzhak recognize how “I am the Lord” is a statement of purpose by
God, a statement of what will take place in the coming years, and why it must take place.  In a moment when the Israelites wanted to walk away from Moses and, most likely, God, God’s statement at the beginning in Parshat Vaera attempts to remind the Israelites as to why the relationship between God and Israel still matters.


When a student experiences the highs and lows of education, many are tempted to assume that struggling in a subject or area of school life necessarily means that their teachers and mentors will one day “give up” on them, that no one would stick it out with someone who seems like a loss cause.  However, what every educator knows, and what our parasha reminds us, is that the first way to help a first crawl out from under the rubble of hopelessness is reminding a student of our presence, and helping them realize that caring adults will helped them through their struggles in the past, and will still guide them through their struggles in the present and future.  May each of us be worthy of fulfilling this essential task in our Schechter community.

Shabbat Shalom!   

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Divrei Rav Josh- Parshat Shemot: Our Ongoing Relationship with Torah

But how is Torah “useful”? Surely, for the rabbis, part of that had to do with law, norms of behavior by which Jews have lived their lives for centuries. But I think it means something else as well…reading [texts] as understood by the tradition is not a passive enterprise. It involves one’s whole self; it forces involvement, passion, and self-reflection. Ultimately, it may lead one toward change….For the Jewish tradition, reading is more than reading: it is a love affair with the text.
  • Professor Barry Holtz, Back to the Sources: Reading the Classic Jewish Texts

In the above passage, my teacher, Barry Holtz, reminds us that the purpose of studying Torah is not to receive a piece of information one time, and then assume that the information never needs to be revisited or re-examined. Instead, Holtz invites us to understand the study of Torah as a piece of an ongoing process, one that began at the beginning of the Jewish people’s story, and one that continues until this day, a lesson that is alluded in this week’s parasha of Shemot.  

When Moses encounters God at the burning bush, Moses asks God how God should be identified to the Israelites, when Moses returns to Egypt and attempts to begin the process of taking the Israelites from slavery to freedom.   In response, God provides an answer that commentators would closely analyze for generations.  The Torah states:

“Moses said to God, “Behold, when I come to the Children of Israel and say to them, ‘The God of your forefathers has sent me to you,’ and they say to me, ‘What is His Name’- What shall I say to them?”   God answered Moses, Ehyeh asher Ehyeh “I shall be what I shall be.”   And He said, “So shall you say to the Children of Israel, ‘I shall be has sent me to you’” (Shemot 3:13-15).

The vagueness of God’s answer that his name is Ehyeh asher Ehyeh leaves the biblical reader to wonder not only how we are to interpret this very bizarre “name,” but why God would answer this question in a manner that would leave Moses with more questions than answers.   In attempting to answer these questions, our commentators ultimately see the phrase Ehyeh asher Ehyeh as indicating something essential about the ongoing relationship that God will create with the Israelites, not only in Egypt, but throughout the rest of Jewish history.

Citing a midrash that is found in both Midrash Shemot Rabbah 3:6 and Bavli Berakhot 9b, Rashi argues that Ehyeh asher Ehyeh alludes to the fact that God will help the Israelites during their current time of trouble in Egypt, and in future times of trouble when other nations attempt to persecute the Israelites.  Rashi states:

“I shall be what I shall be”- I shall be with them during this trouble, what I shall be them at their subjugation by other kingdoms.  Moses said before Him, “Master of the World!  Why am I to mention another trouble to them?  This trouble [Egypt] is enough for them.”   God said to him, “You have spoken well.   Say thus, etc.” (Rashi on Shemot 3:14).

In this commentary, Rashi argues that the term Ehyeh asher Ehyeh alludes to the ongoing relationship that will commence with the Israelites and God in Egypt, and will continue in any further instance of persecution the Israelites might face in a future time or place.  While the midrash appears uncomfortable with the fact that Moses should allude to persecutions that have yet to occur, ultimately the commentary reminds us that God’s care for the Israelites will not cease, no matter the time or place.

Expanding upon the idea that the Israelites and God begin and ongoing relationship when Moses meets God at the burning bush, the Ramban notes that we should understand Ehyeh asher Ehyeh as stating a principle about the nature of the eternal relationship between God and the Jewish people.  The Ramban states:

“What is the meaning of Ehyeh asher Ehyeh--”I shall be what I shall be.”   “As you are with Me, so I am with you.   If they open their hands to give charity, so I shall open My hands, as it says, “God shall open for you His godly treasure” (Deuteronomy 28:12).”   (Ramban on Shemot 3:13).

According to the Ramban, while Ehyeh asher Ehyeh alludes to God’s role in bringing the Israelites from slavery to freedom, this expression also alludes to the many ways in which God will remain involved in the life of the Jewish people, everything from acts of hesed, to forming a special relationship to the Jewish people’s destiny through the giving of the Torah.   In her modern commentary on this passage, Aviva Zornberg writes in The Particulars of Rapture: Reflections on Exodus that both Rashi and Ramban allude to the idea that God’s statement of Ehyeh asher Ehyeh should remind us that the redemptive process begun in Parshat Shemot does not end when the Israelites leave Egypt, but rather exists for eternity.  Zornberg writes:

“...but even the Torah...is to be understood by human beings, in a mode of ongoing revelation.  In its absolute dimension, beyond human reach, the Torah is called “the Torah of Moses our Teacher” so that once again we are reminded of the tension between Moses and that dimension of God which invites continuous revelation” (Aviva Zornberg, The Particulars of Rapture, 75).

Zornberg reminds us that the story of the exodus is archetypal of the entire story of the Jewish people, a process of ongoing revelation and relationship, one we are responsible for carrying on today.  Just as God states in the Torah that he form an eternal relationship to the Jewish people, the Jewish people are then tasked with forming an eternal relationship with God and God’s Torah.

When we teach our students the core narratives of the Jewish people, one of our most important tasks is helping our students realize that the Torah’s narratives not only happened to us in the past, but rather represent a process that is still playing out in the present.  In doing so, we demonstrate the continued relationship of these stories to who we are as Jews, and as human beings, an essential message at all levels of Jewish education.   May we embrace the task of helping our students recognize that God’s call of Ehyeh asher Ehyeh is an invitation for each of us to live in ongoing relationship with God and the Jewish people, a call that each of us must embrace.

Shabbat Shalom!