BeShallach -- The Waters of Redemption

In case anyone out there is actually reading my musings on Exodus-As-Metaphor-For-Working-Through-Personal-Struggle/Addiction …. my self-identified “addictions” have at various times included: codependency (very hip in the 90’s to be codependent!), pornography, food and video gaming.

And now back to our story of personal redemption, a reading of the Book of Exodus as a story not of Israel’s redemption and journey to a physical Promised Land, but as a story of each person’s redemption and journey to an inner “promised land” of peace, balance, connection and harmony.

Exodus 13:17 tells us that the Jews take the long way home, not the direct route.

Who makes their journey to wholeness easy? We all find ways to complicate, obfuscate.

Exodus 13:18 tells us that the Jews travel to the Sea of Reeds.

I see this as equivalent to the mikvah or the baptism. Water is a symbol of renewal and rebirth. We walk in as one person, and leave as another. A breaking point has been reached and we will never be the same again. I let my father control our relationship for many years. When I got the maturity and courage to change the dynamic, there was a point reached when I could not turn back. I had come too far.

Exodus 13:21 tells us that the Lord send a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night to help guide the Jews.

I believe there is mystery in this world. Mystery in the form of things that simply cannot be explained. Like when we desperately need help, and suddenly, unexpectedly get help from seemingly nowhere.

Exodus 14:28 tells that the waters of the Reed Sea drown the Egyptians.

The Egyptians were about surfaces, appearances, illusion. The waters wash all that away. And we are left with only truth.

Exodus 15 is the Song of the Sea.

There are moments of indescribable joy in recovery and rebirth. The soul feels freed, and life suddenly seems to sparkle and come alive as it never has before. And we sing.

Bo - Darkest Before the Dawn

I repeat, as I said in an earlier commentary, that I believe we are all addicts to something. Do not think you stand above the alcoholic or the drug addict. If we do not struggle with obsessive eating or working or exercising or gossiping, then we may be stuck in obsessive and destructive thought patterns about ourselves or the world.

With this in mind, I continue my reading of Exodus as a story of recovering from addiction, breaking free of being a “slave” to something outside ourselves.

As the Jews complete their break from slavery this week, and as we all complete our break from the things that hold us back, there is often greatest darkness before the dawn. Hollywood knows this: things often look bleakest for our hero just before the final breakthrough.

In this parshah, that motif is represented by the final three plagues. They all involve darkness. First, locusts cover the sky and blot out the sun. Next, actual darkness descends both day and night. Finally, the darkest of events in the darkness of night – death of the first-born. The Torah could not be clearer: we have reached the breaking point.

Pharaoh’s “hardened heart” also fits my view of slavery as a metaphor for addictions and other things that hold us back. We begin to move towards recovery when we recognize that something needs to change. It is hard to come to that realization, and then life is often easier for a time as we make adjustments and become healthier. But there is always a backlash. Moments come along when old feelings, doubts and insecurities rear their head and all the progress comes into question. At these times, we are being tested, being given an opportunity to keep moving forward towards wholeness or to turn back to old, comfortable-but-unhealthy ways. I think Pharaoh’s hardened heart is a nice metaphor for this process of struggle as one moves through recovery. It can be very easy to fall back into old patterns and then rationalize them. As Pharaoh first give in to the Jews and then changes his mind, an addict may one moment fight his problem and the next moment rationalize giving in to his cravings. Think of it as the bargaining phase.

Vaera -- Feeling the Pain of the Plagues

Addiction = slavery. We all struggle with becoming “addicted” (to some degree or another) with things that help us deal with the harsh realities of life (we live, we die, we do not know why). Drugs, alcohol, pornography, food, computers, reading …. I could go on and on and on. Anything that can be done in this world, in my view, can be done in an addictive way. When it becomes addictive: 1) there is a compulsive nature to it, a feeling that one cannot live without it; 2) other priorities start to be pushed aside; 3) it becomes an escape from reality; and 4) it often leads to a whole secondary set of problems (cirrhosis, obesity, divorce, etc).

Addiction is like slavery because we have lost control of our own lives. And we have lost our way and no longer are “centered” in ourselves and centered with our Creator.

This week, the plagues begin. On one level, I think the plagues told a newly-founded group of Jews over 2,000 years ago that their God was the real, true and/or best God. “I will show the Pharaoh’s Gods, that I am the one, true, kick-ass God!”

However, that is not an answer that does much for me today. I already hope and believe that my Torah is talking about the one true Source, and we already won that battle!

So I am trying to read the Exodus story, a story about escaping from slavery, as a story about Escaping From Addiction. Moving from fear to love. Moving from avoiding reality to dealing truthfully with reality.

In this view, what are the plagues? I think the plagues represent the painful truths that the addictions are meant to avoid. Perhaps we have hurt someone we loved. Perhaps we have not lived up to our own dreams or plans. Perhaps we have never really faced the prospect of death in any serious way. Perhaps we have never stopped running the rat-race long enough to ponder “what it is all about.”

The plagues are the pain we have been avoiding. It hurts, it is dark and scary, but at the end there is light and hope.

Shemot -- Two for the Price of One

This week, two commentaries for the price of one!

First, a commentary from a historical perspective.

What struck me about this parsha was a recurring theme that can be summed up in the phrase: The Jewish people are awesome and our God is awesome! In Exodus 1:12, we learn that the more oppressed the Jewish people are, the more they increase and spread out. In Exodus 1:14, we’re told that the Jewish midwives do not carry out Pharaoh’s orders because they fear God. So that even though we have no idea what kind of Jewish worship has been going on in Egypt for many years, we are clued in that there is still a strong faith in some. In Exodus 1:19, we learn that the Hebrew woman are “vigorous.” In Exodus 2, we meet our new hero, Moses. And in Exodus 3:19-20, God makes clear that he has a plan to beat the snot out of Pharaoh (kind of spoils the suspense, by the way, since God gives away the big finish before the story even gets started). What I saw behind all this was an intent by the Torah authors to let future generations know that we are a special people, and we have a special relationship with God.

Second, a psychobabble perspective.

We are all enslaved at times in our life, so the Exodus story can be read as a metaphor for how we deal with that slavery. Maybe we are slaves to alcohol, or money, or work, or video games. When we are enslaved by something, we are far from God. When we break free from slavery, we can feel like we have crossed a line in the sand (or a Reed Sea) and entered a new land. Get it? With this framework in mind, let me touch on a couple of interesting moments in Shemot.

First, we have the moment when God “notices” the Jewish people cry for help (Exodus 2:23). I cannot help but ask: Why, oh why, did God let the Jewish people suffer all those years? Couldn’t He have intervened earlier? (also see Why Do Bad Things Happen To Good People). Perhaps we can use an analogy to a drug addict to make more sense of this. An addict, it is said, has to “hit bottom” and come to realize the depths of their problem before they can seek treatment. From this perspective, the Jewish people cried out because they had finally realized the depth of their plight.

Second, we have the moments when God makes clear that He will harden the heart of Pharaoh (Exodus 3:19-20). Wouldn’t the story have been just as good without God doing some kind of mind game to make Pharaoh more stubborn? It would have been easy to believe a stubborn Pharaoh without this strange addition. But with Enslavement/Addiction glasses, perhaps we can make more sense of this. Again, it has to do with the concept of “hitting bottom.” If Pharaoh is the stand-in for an addiction, then the addiction has to be at its worst before change can come.

All the pieces are thus put into place: the Jewish people have hit rock bottom, and something or someone will have to save them.

VA-Y’HI -- Goodbyes

I am very blessed. In my lifetime I have not experienced the loss of a parent, relative or friend (ptew, ptew, ptew....that’s the sound of me spitting to ward off bad luck). My two “closest” relatives that have passed away were my grandparents - the paternal grandparents I never met and the maternal grandparents I barely knew (I can count on one hand the number of times we met, as they did not live in America). So I can only imagine the pain, sorrow and loss one must feel at the death of a loved one.

Va-Y’hi is about loss and the preparation for it. Elaborate instructions and promises to uphold last wishes are made. Blessings are bestowed. Words of wisdom imparted. Reflecting on this, I feel it would be an ideal way to depart this earth. Surrounded by your children and grandchildren, given the time (and especially the coherence) to impart a few last meaningful words and to embrace loved ones before a final goodbye.

I guess the words that come to mind are peace and dignity. Both Jacob and Joseph seemed to be at peace with their mortality. They were mentally and emotionally prepared for this inevitability. They had the dignity of a sound mind with which to express their final wishes. I can only hope that I, and my loved ones, can make such a gracious exit from this world when the time comes (ptew, ptew, ptew).

Vayechi -- Parting Thoughts

My father died on December 30, 2010.

One year and two days later, I read about the death of Jacob/Israel and the tears of his son, Joseph.

A 'chapter' in the Torah concludes, as a 'chapter' in my life concludes. We are to mourn for 11 months, and then move on.

Joseph/We/I are never the same again. But we move on.