Dear JCOGS family,
In the anguish, fear, and unwieldiness of this week, I discovered enough powerful teachings to thwart off despair.
This light of hope first emanated in this Shabbat’s Torah portion, with the beginning of the book of Shemot/Exodus. The Pharaoh who enslaved and oppressed our ancestors dies. His death unleashes a primal scream from the Israelites, described in four piercing verbs: anachah, za’akah, shav’ah, na’akah—a sighing, groaning, moaning, cry for help to release them from their bondage. “And their cry for help went up to G-d.”
Then, I heard the words of the Slonimer Rebbe who teaches that as we begin the book of Shemot and the retelling of the exodus from Egypt, we are telling the entire story of exile and redemption, lighting a way for everyone, at all times, through the darkness. “And G-d heard their moaning.”
And finally, from one of my teachers Rabbi Sharon Cohen Anisfeld, who wrote this: “The journey begins with a cry. Some commentators say that deep inarticulate cry is the beginning of liberation. To remember to cry is to remember to hurt, which is to remember to long, which is to remember that things can be different, which is to remember to hope.”
The political events right now in the U.S. are deeply unsettling. Insurgents have stormed the Capitol building, brought Confederate flags and other racist and antisemitic symbols, violence, and white power to the sacred halls of this country’s highest democracy, incited by the highest powers of office.
But more powerful is our collective sigh, groan, and moan—our crying out against this tyranny. It is the will of the people to be heard. With our crying out, liberation is possible.
We cry out for collective safety. We cry out for love of freedom. We cry out for democracy and fair elections with the will of the people. We cry out for the peaceful transfer of power. We cry out for hope.
What else do we cry out for? Consider: I cry out for __________.
Join your JCOGS community before Shabbat services today at 5:30 p.m. for a time to reflect, to heal, and to see each other in our collective anguish. And to hope. During services, I will also address the congregation on the relationship between our present reality and the powerful words of this week's Torah portion, as our ancestors cried out for freedom against Pharaoh's oppression. Register here.
Tihiyu bri’im, stay safe, be well,
Rabbi David
