We are urged at the Passover Seder to tell the story of the Exodus in ever greater detail. There are, however, midrashim (stories) that do not appear in the Haggadah. Three of them joined our Seder this year.
The first begins with Pharaoh’s decree that every Jewish boy be cast into the Nile. The Egyptians enter Jewish homes with their own infants. They pinch them. When the Egyptian babies cry, the Jewish babies cry in response. That is how they are found -- and killed.
The instinct to answer a child’s distress is a beautiful one. It is used against us.
The second midrash describes a moment of lost hope. Amram, a leader of the tribe of Levi, concludes that bringing Jewish children into the world is no longer justified. If they are born only to suffer and die, better not conceive them at all. Others follow his lead. Miriam, his daughter, confronts him: Pharaoh’s decree is limited only to the male children. Yours is not. You have ended the future altogether.
He reverses himself. He becomes Moshe’s father.
The last midrash takes place at the sea. The Jews are trapped between the water and the Egyptian army. Moshe prays at length. But God cuts him off. There is a time to pray and a time to move.
Action is needed now, not words.
What do these vignettes share? Each revolves around a drama driven by worthy human instincts – empathy, the prevention of suffering, prayer. Each shows how that instinct can fail.
The first story unfolds in Gaza today as it did in Egypt.
Hamas carried out its murderous October 7th attacks knowing that images of dead children would inflame global anger against Israel. My father, Elie Wiesel understood this, and called on world leaders years earlier to “condemn Hamas’ use of children as human shields”. We are manipulated by terrorists eager to sacrifice their own children into weakening the security needed to protect our own.
This weaponization of empathy is what @GadSaad calls “suicidal empathy”.
The second story is personal for me.
After the Shoah, my father’s pain and despair led him to say that the world did not deserve more Jewish children, until my mother (also a Miriam!) and my father’s friend and teacher —the Lubavitcher Rebbe and Rabbi Saul Lieberman—urged him to choose life and, ultimately, raise a Jewish child.
Today, some say: My Jewish children will be safer if they are not Jewish. Let’s not circumcise our baby boy. Let’s skip the Passover Seder this year. Let’s stop going to shul, or Temple. Or if we must stay Jewish, let’s appease the antisemites by publicly denouncing Zionism.
This question has not disappeared. The pressure is real. So is the consequence.
With regards to the final story, my father wrote: “Words can sometimes, in moments of grace, attain the quality of deeds.” But it is the exception, not the rule. The action, our sages tell us, is what matters.
Today, Israel is under unprecedented strain. Externally, Iran and Hezbollah seek Israel’s physical destruction. Internally, a small minority of West Bank settlers engage in violence against Palestinian civilians and seek Israel’s moral destruction. Amidst a military manpower shortage, the Israeli ultra-Orthodox hide shamefully behind prayer and Torah study as their reason to shirk army service.
In the West, we’ve gotten used to "thoughts and prayers" in reaction to tragedy or violence. It's become a meme joke. We have forgotten the power of action. When we sent thoughts and prayers to the Syrians gassed by Assad, and President Obama failed to enforce his red line, chaotic waves of immigration reshaped continents and policy in troubling ways.
Are we committed to making the world better, not just wishing it better?
Even our finest traits can be hijacked.
Empathy can become suicidal when it is manipulated by those who seek our destruction. A determination to end suffering can become a reason to halt the continuation of our people. And excessive prayer can hinder moral action.
Our work this Pesach is not to discard those virtues, but to reclaim them.
Let’s resolve to defeat our enemies even while we retain compassion for their children.
Let’s believe in our ability to create a future worthy of all children, including Jewish ones.
And let’s pray for the strength we need to get out of our seats and shape this world into the one described by the Seder’s promise of redemption.
My daughter, a UCL student, faced antisemitism on campus after Oct 7 2023. She is currently on her year abroad and doesn't want to return to UCL. Here's why.
@Ben202122@RichMillett Actually, the dinner was organised by Chabad and the J Soc in order to 'take back the Quad' where the pro-palestine students had set up an encampment. Nobody broke bread together.
My daughter, a UCL student, faced antisemitism on campus after Oct 7 2023. She is currently on her year abroad and doesn't want to return to UCL. Here's why.
@TheStage@rbo_org "vehement opposition from across its workforce" 180 signatories out of over 1000 staff. Bullies. Cultural boycotts achieve nothing. Shameful.
“I received a screenshot from a colleague who went on the self checker and found sure enough that his data had been released.”
The MoD data leaks is a “very serious" and will cost the British government a “huge amount of money", says Professor at UCL, Brad Blitz.
@o_sheilagh@HeidiBachram @strangebrewbriz Exactly. Are they actually being discriminated against because some band members are Jewish? They are not saying 'nationality' (Israeli, for instance), they used the word 'ethnicity', (Jewish is an ethnicity)