January 2013

Dear Friends,

This week, we begin the book of Exodus, and explore the Israelite’s monumental liberation from Egypt. Before any miraculous plagues or parting waters, the story of the Exodus begins with the Israelites enslaved. We read of Moses’ birth and upbringing and of the Israelites crying out in pain, which spurs God to take action and talk to Moses.

In the Torah, then, it seems that before God can come and do anything to save the Israelites, they first have to cry out – to articulate for themselves that something needs to change and that they need help to do it.

I have been thinking lately about what causes us to cry out, and what is needed for us to say, “That’s enough! We need to do something!”

At the end of 2012, I was shocked and saddened to learn of the massacre in Newtown, CT. I read about it in the newspaper and watched the news, trying to comprehend what had happened. Yet, if I am honest, when first learning about it, my response was to feel numb. I just couldn’t wrap my head around this tragedy, and felt like looking the other way.

The next day, I had minor dental work done, and wound up having a negative reaction to the Novocain. I couldn’t open my mouth, and felt a great deal of pain in my jaw. Though I had been emotionally numb the day before, somehow my personal experience of physical pain made me feel hyper-aware of all the pain in the world. I started to feel devastated by the Newtown massacre. As I lay in bed on painkillers, I asked, “Why, God?! Why have you made my mouth hurt so much? And why have you let all these children die?”

Even as I was thinking this, I sensed the ridiculousness of connecting my relatively minor situation with the tragedy in Newtown. I would be fine the next day. The families of the Newtown victims would feel their loss forever. And yet, I think that often it is only when we experience our own pain (however minor) that we can truly connect with the pain of others. I say this without judgment. The world is so filled with problems – it is hard to take in all the pain that we witness.

Yet, if the book of Exodus (and my own toothache) teaches us anything, it is that when we cry out, we must not only cry out for ourselves, but also for others. Of course, no amount of crying out will create a happy ending for Newtown. Yet, I believe that to honor the lives of the fallen and help to ensure that this type of tragedy becomes less likely, we need to cry out and work for a better world – in this case by insisting on tighter legal controls for assault weapons.

This year, in whatever hardships we face (which I hope will be few!), let us cry out not only for ourselves, but also for the wider community, and be inspired, like the Israelites, to create a better world for ourselves and others.

Warm regards,

Rabbi Margie