Bo!

No, I am not talking about a person named Bo, as in Little Bo Peep nor any other Bo you might know... Bo is the name of this week's Torah portion.

Bo is a Hebrew word which means Go! and it also means Come! One of my earliest memories of learning this word, in its imperative, commandment form, was at Hebrew school when one of the teachers called out to her rambunctious three year old toddler, "Bo! Po! Yad!" This means, literally, in order, "Come! Now! Hand!" (she was directing that he come over this minute and take her hand).  (See? Now you know three more Hebrew words! Wasn't that easy?)

As do most of our Torah portions, this week's takes its name from one of the first words in the passage. In this case, Moses is being directed to "Go to Pharaoh," or "Come to Pharaoh."

In a nutshell, parashat Bo describes the last three of the Ten Plagues which are visited on Egypt: a swarm of locusts; a thick darkness; and the deaths of the Egyptian firstborn.

Of additional note is that Bo contains the very first mitzvah which was given to the Jewish people: to establish a calendar based on the monthly "rebirth" of the moon. (We'll get to that in a different post.)

Mitzvot that follow this are to bring a “Passover offering” which is to be roasted and eaten that night, together with matzah (unleavened bread) and bitter herbs.

As we know from the Passover story, it is the death of the firstborn Egyptian sons which finally breaks Pharaoh’s resistance, and he literally drives the Hebrews from his land. In their haste to depart, there is no time for their bread dough to rise.

Then, the Hebrews are commanded to consecrate all firstborn, and to observe the anniversary of the Exodus each year by removing all leaven from their possession for seven days, eating matzah, and telling this to their children.

No, it is not Pesach, Passover, on our calendars just yet. We tell this story more than once a year. It is described in our Torah for the first time in this parashah, Bo. We will revisit this story in the spring at Passover.

For today's post, there is one specific item in our portion on which I would like to focus: as the people prepare to finally leave their time of slavery in Egypt, they prepare to become a free people. But the message in Bo is not about liberty, nor is it about breaking the chains of bondage, nor even does it give mention to the arduous journey that lies ahead. Nor are the Hebrews given a halftime pep talk and reminded of the Promised Land that flows with milk and honey which awaits ahead.

No. In Bo, the Hebrews are instructed about their children. Not once, not twice, but three times:

"And when your children ask you, ‘What do you mean by this rite?’ you shall say . . ." (Exodus 12:26-27)

"And you shall explain to your child on that day, ‘It is because of what G!d did for me when I went free from Egypt’ "(Exodus 13:8)

"And when, in time to come, your child asks you, saying, ‘What does this mean?’ you shall say to them . . ." (Exodus 13:14)

Why?

The Chinese have a saying, "If you plan for a year, plant rice. If you plan for a decade, plant a tree. If you plan for a century, educate a child." This is what is happening in Bo.

Bo relates to us the story which is not a mere celebratory moment of liberation. Rather, this is so pivotal a story that it will form part of our collective memory until the end of time. Each generation will pass on the story to the next. Here, Jewish parents become educators, and Jewish children become guardians of the past for the sake of the future. The memories and stories are not relegated to the library, nor to books, nor to specially assigned story keepers and tellers. The task of living and passing on the beauty of Judaism is not for professionals trained to do so, nor for the historians to record in a dusty reference book on the shelf.

No, Judaism is herein elevated to the realm of collective memory so important, that it is told and retold from the heart, to the heart, and relived every year as if the ones telling and the ones hearing are at that very moment in time in which the story first unfolded.

In other words, the Exodus is not something that happened in the past. It is relevant and happening every time we remember and re-member. We carry the sacred task of teaching our children, and reminding ourselves, of our story, in order to help us all understand who we are, where we've come from, what happened to our ancestors to make us the distinctive people we are becoming, and what moments in our history have shaped our lives and dreams. We are tasked to remember our identity by turning history not into cold, hard facts, but into memory, and memory itself into a sense of responsibility.

We are driven by memory, which is personal and relational, not a collection of historical facts. We are not summoned to be a nation of intellectuals. We have been called on to be actors in a drama of ongoing redemption, a people invited to bring blessings into the world by the way we live and sanctify everyday life. This is a tall order.

Furthermore, our storytelling is not just a repetition of words. It has a deeply spiritual dimension, and is an invitation for everyone to engage WITH the story. In Judaism, the role of the question is a significant part of the process of education: “When your child asks you, saying…” – a feature memorialized at the Peach seder in the form of the "Mah nishtanah".

Judaism is a questioning, and even argumentative, faith, in which even the greatest heroes often ask questions of G!d. Lot pushed G!d on the number of righteous people needed to save the towns; Job questioned and pushed G!d on the "Why?" of his suffering; even Moses argued with G!d about sending him to lead the people out of Egypt.

Even the rabbis of the Mishnah and Midrash constantly disagree. There are few absolutes, few literal facts, and always there is encouragement to engage in deep discussions and questions. It is deep within the fabric and soul of Judaism to discuss and engage and even argue and question. There is no one single right perspective. The Torah itself has Seventy Faces!

The rabbinic sage Ben Bag Bag tells us of the stories in our Torah, to Turn it, and turn it, for everything is in it. Reflect on it and grow old and gray with it. Don't turn from it, for nothing is better than it." Always there is more to see, more to ask, more to consider, more to learn. Take little at face value; dig deeper.

Yes, this hallmark of Judaism which is different from many other faith traditions is that Jews aren't only encouraged to question authority, but almost required to do so. Because, in Judaism, there is no albsolute or final human authority like in most other religions. We have no pope, no bishops, no priests. Rabbis are all equal. Rabbis serve as a teacher and pastoral caregiver and a consultant on Torah and Jewish living because we have focused our studies and dedicated our lives to living our Jewish heritage, not because we are gatekeepers of it.