If we were living in the generation of the
Exodus, we wouldn’t be here now, together in a public place. Rather, we would
be sheltering in our homes, each individual and family separately, anxious
about the future and puzzled by the many instructions we have received. Sound
familiar? Let’s listen to the thoughts of one of them:
Following the
instructions we received, on the 10th of the month we took a lamb – a
symbol of divinity for our neighbors-masters – and are keeping it at home. If
that were not frightening enough, in a few hours, at twilight we are supposed
to slaughter the lamb, put some of the blood on the doorposts and lintel of our
houses, before eating it roasted, with matza and bitter herbs. The menu is
strange but at least the instructions are clear – if the Egyptians don’t kill us for blasphemy – before dinner. But the instructions about the blood are contradictory:
And the blood on the
houses where you are staying shall be a sign for you: when I see
the blood I will pass over you, so that no plague will destroy you... (Exodus 12:13)
If the blood is for “us”
and those of us in the house need to see it, we can put facing inside. That’s
less scary but still doesn’t answer the question of what blood should signify for
us.
But it also says “and
I will see” as if God doesn’t know who lives where and needs a sign. How
can that be? On the other hand, let’s not risk a devastating plague and put
some of the blood outside as well.
I’m beginning to
understand what needs to be done, but the biggest question remains: if God I-Will-Be-Who-I-Will-Be
promised Abraham that we will be redeemed and if God has a strong arm, why is
all this necessary? What is God waiting for?
The questions I have put into the mouth of an Israelite
waiting to leave Egypt, and many others, are raised in midrashim and
interpretive literature throughout the ages. I will not even try to review the
interpretive riches. Rather, I will summarize my conclusions and then link them
to this morning’s readings.
In the Covenant between the Pieces
(Genesis 15), Abraham was indeed assured that his descendants would leave Egypt,
but the period of slavery defined there, “400 years,” does not match the other
data in the Bible itself and therefore should not be understood literally.
The Passover sacrifice – the slaughter of a lamb precisely
because of its status in the eyes of the Egyptians – is a test, a chance to prove
that the Israelites have thrown off any connection to Egyptian religion and
culture, and no longer surrender to their fear of Egypt. Therefore, the blood
on the lintel and doorposts is a two-directional sign. It reminds the
Israelites that they have stood up to their oppressors. God, too, needs the
sign because “Everything is in the hands of Heaven except the fear of Heaven.”
Therefore, the Holy One had no way of knowing in advance which Israelites, if
any, would be ready to leave the familiar behind in order gain their freedom.
With an outstretched arm, God took from Egypt those Israelites who were willing to sacrifice for freedom.
In Parashat Tzav, we read this morning that the thanksgiving sacrifice (Leviticus 7:11-15) – like the Passover sacrifice – must be consumed by morning. To eat the whole lamb at one sitting, we need to invite guests. “What distinguishes being grateful from being (merely) pleased or glad is the grateful person’s desire to make a return. More precisely, he wants to favor another because he has been favored himself.”* On the basic level, we invite others to share in the feast. On a higher level, we want others to share the freedom we have attained.
As the prophetic reading for Shabbat HaGadol, the Sabbath
before Passover, the Rabbis selected words from Malachi, the last chapter of a
formal prophecy in the Bible. The prophet begins by listing the sins that
prevent redemption in a post-miraculous world in which blood on the lintel is
no longer relevant: sorcery, adultery, swearing falsely, oppressing workers,
widows and orphans – i.e., weaker
classes of society – and discriminating against outsiders and migrants. Later,
he adds not paying tithes and Temple offerings (equivalent to tax
evasion). If we think of sorcery as any
practice that intervenes in the laws of nature, all of these sins are familiar.
Turning away from these evils requires us to sacrifice:
not to give in to selfish urges, to pay workers fair wages and on time, and
farmers fair value for their produce; to be prepared for higher prices or lower
dividends so that employees can make a decent living, and support a safety net
for those who need it. Malachi demands attention to the Torah of Moses, which includes
provisions to meet all of these requirements.
Without blood and without fire, but with willingness to sacrifice for others, we can open our heart to greet Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and terrible day of the Eternal (v. 24 [Malachi 4:5 in some English Bibles[).
*A.D.M. Walker, “Gratefulness and
Gratitude,” Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, New Series, vol. 81
(1980-1981), p. 49.
