Dear {{first_name}},
In this week’s Torah reading, we learn of the last three plagues; locusts, darkness, and death of the first born. Each of these was unique in their composition and in their impact. The locusts destroyed the land and robbed the Egyptians, and their livestock, of food to eat. The darkness forced the Egyptians to stay in their homes and to fear the total destruction of everything they knew to be real in their world. It also caused them to question the existence of their “gods.” A major “god” of theirs was the sun-god and now he was missing for multiple days. And of course, the death of the first born must have been awful beyond any comparison. The grief and mourning must have been unparalleled. Almost every house was affected.
I have often been intrigued by the middle of these three plagues: darkness. To begin to understand this plague, we must acknowledge that we have no experience with “darkness.” We experience nighttime during which the moon and stars give us light. We have electric lights and flashlights and fire to light our lives during the night as well. All of this goes a long way to explain that we do not have familiarity with what they experienced during the plague. I remember years ago when we lived in New York and lost power for weeks after one of the hurricanes. It was frightening to go out on a cloudy night with no light other than my cell phone or flashlight. I knew my neighborhood so it wasn’t as bad as when I led a relief mission to Puerto Rico after the catastrophic hurricane that left them without power for months. All you could hear at night was the humming of generators. During the day it was awfully scary to drive because there weren’t any traffic lights. We had no idea where we were and we didn’t know our way around. It was frightening and it was certainly darkness, but a different type than what we normally think of as darkness.
The text of the Torah described the darkness as a very specific thing. It was a darkness so thick that you could touch it and the people could not see each other and they could not move from their places. And with all of this darkness, our ancestors were spared entirely and had total light. When I think about this darkness, I’m curious about the description being so complete in its reach to the Egyptians but not to the Israelites. I’m curious about the intensely personal description through which the Egyptians could touch the dark. And of course, I’m troubled by the fact that it was so dark that they couldn’t see each other.
The only darkness I know of that could meet these descriptions is not a physical external darkness, but more likely a deeply personal blindness. Perhaps the miracle was not a function of sun but a temporary blinding of all of the Egyptians. When you think about it, this interpretation actually works in all of the varying descriptions of the darkness. They could each touch it. It was not safe for them to leave their place and they could not see their fellow people. This would also help to explain the ability of the Israelites to see and be unaffected by the plague. We were not blinded while the Egyptians were.
One of the most common Passover activities is to come up with ten modern day plagues. I’m certain many of us did that last year at our tiny seders while enduring a modern-day plague. To take this activity further, we can ask if any of the plagues are still around today. Certainly, we have issues with water pollution and a lack of safe drinking water like the plague of blood. We have issues with weather disasters like the plague of hail. We see those plaques today in physical ways but I think the plague of darkness is much more pervasive today than all others. The plague of not seeing those around us. The plague of not being aware of the needs of others. The plague of not looking and seeing that there is pain and suffering happening.
The plague of darkness is alive and well. The reality is the only antidote for darkness is light and, in this case, light would mean all of us being willing to open our arms and our hearts to others. And more importantly to open our minds to those around us as well. This week our country paused for a day and observed our 59th inauguration. While most think of an inauguration as a celebration of the person at the top of the ticket, it really isn’t. It’s a celebration of us and of our union. It’s a celebration of our country and all that we’ve done in the past and all that we’ll achieve in the future.
I found Senator Klobuchar’s reference to President Regan’s inauguration to be very meaningful. She said that at his inauguration, he remarked that it was both commonplace and nothing short of a miracle all at once. It was commonplace because we do it every four years and it was a miracle because we do it every four years. Regardless, throughout the day there was a common conversation going on; the need to fix ourselves. Speaker after speaker throughout the day stated the need for us to recommit to the promise that we are all Americans and that we need to work together.
The way we got here is quite easy to find… we are all blind. We are blind with anger. We are blind with malice. We are blind with partisanship. We are blind with jealousy. We are blind with selfishness. We are blind to the other people around us. We are excellent at pointing out the faults in others and in people we don’t agree with, and yet when we look in the mirror, we fail to see that we’re all contributing to this plague of today.
If we are to fix this plague in our time and in our nation, we must begin to be willing to see more and to see better. We must begin to see that other people can have solutions that could work. We must see that other people are in pain and need our love. We must see that we are not the country but only one person in the greater group. We can choose to do things as we have been for decades or we can choose to heal, to open our eyes and to move forward. President George W. Bush said it best yesterday… he quoted the golden rule – love your neighbor as yourself. That is the formula for how we begin to fix all that we have broken. Please consider reaching out to people who you don’t naturally speak to. Please consider seeing that in our midst, there is immense suffering and that all of us hold the keys to healing when we open our eyes and banish the plague of darkness.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Hearshen
