Moses remains our Torah’s exemplar of moral behavior. Out of nowhere, he kills an Egyptian taskmaster and sides with the community of Israelite slaves. But when, exactly, did his awakening begin?
The text offers no clue as to his childhood and early adulthood. Immediately after Pharaoh’s daughter claims him from the Nile River and names him, we are informed (Exodus 2:11):
וַיְהִ֣י ׀ בַּיָּמִ֣ים הָהֵ֗ם וַיִּגְדַּ֤ל מֹשֶׁה֙ וַיֵּצֵ֣א אֶל־אֶחָ֔יו וַיַּ֖רְא בְּסִבְלֹתָ֑ם
On some later day, Moses grew, went forth to his kinsfolk, and saw their burdens.
At the beginning of his life as a leader, we encounter three active verbs that together suggest his character and potential as a leader:
- וַיִּגְדַּ֤ל, “he grew”
- וַיֵּצֵ֣א, “he went forth”
- וַיֵּצֵ֣א, “he saw”
Together, they describe the moment Moses had his moral awakening. They also offer us a framework for Jewish moral responsibility—tasking us to take action in moments not so dissimilar from our present one.
וַיִּגְדַּ֤ל, Moses grew
At this point in time, Moses was twenty years old, according to Josephus, and forty years old in Christian scriptural tradition (see Acts 7:23). Either way, the TorahRefers to the first five books of the Hebrew Bible, the Tanakh, also called the Five Books of Moses, Pentateuch or the Hebrew equivalent, Humash. This is also called the Written Torah. The term may also refer to teachings that expound on Jewish tradition. Read more is not describing Moses’ physical growth; rather, it’s informing us of his willingness to grow in his thinking, in his being.
We live as long as we grow. When we cease growing, we cease living. The good life is one that does not permit us to remain static, does not allow the past or the status quo to have the final word. Sometimes we stagnate, reach a certain point and stop, and our ideas and values become stale. Moses reminds us that we can continually grow in character, in mind and heart, so that we can enlarge and better the world in which we live.
וַיֵּצֵ֣א, Moses went forth
Moses did not remain sequestered in his palace. He “went forth” to see the world, to encounter others where they are. Moses went forth out of the palace and its luxuries, out of the position of power and authority and security that was his as a prince of Egypt. But he recognized that this life and his reality was not everyone’s, that beyond the pelf and purple, the celebrations and the ostentations of the palace, others lived differently. In doing so, he lost a throne, but he found immortality.
How many of us sometimes become prisoners of our own narrow environment? And how true is this for many synagogues? Moses models the need for us to get out of the barricades of our own selves, and move outward and forward to link our lives with others’ lives, to penetrate into other hearts, to share someone else’s agonies.
וַיַּ֖רְא, Moses saw
Egypt had people of affluence and power, people of education—and every day there were scenes of cruelty and bondage on the streets of Egypt. Anyone who went out saw the taskmasters with whips and lashes, and the people groaning under their burdens. But they did not really see them.
It was only Moses who saw them.
He paused, and something happened to him. Their agony became his own experience. He did not rush past in his carriage and pull the shades down because the slaves’ cries distressed him. He saw what was happening and then had eyes for nothing else. He saw slaves as human beings. What was happening, he now knew, was terror. And he saw that these unkempt, unrecognized, enslaved people, society’s lowest rung, were entitled to dignity and freedom.
When We “Go Forth” Today
When we go forth, what might we see?
We see people protesting, peacefully, but with determination, and we see ICE agents responding by:
- firing pepper balls at close range, targeting heads, and using tear gas and other munitions against crowds, in violation of their own agency’s policies which prohibit aiming at the head or neck;
- tackling protesters, using chokeholds, and engaging in violent beatings, even against journalists covering protests;
- arresting and detaining people, using suspicionless stops and warrantless arrests
- employing banned chokeholds, knee-to-neck restraints, and other, potentially fatal, maneuvers on immigrants, protesters, and U.S. citizens
[For reporting on this, please see, among others, reporting by Human Rights Watch, CNN, Propublica, Tech Policy Press, and the American Immigration Council.]
If we would “go forth,” we would see that some 70-75% of those grabbed by ICE have no criminal history of any kind (see TRAC research center data or CATO Institute data), with most of the rest having only minor violations, such as a traffic ticket.
If we would “go forth,” we would see ICE indiscriminately grabbing citizens and non-citizens alike. The common denominator is race: A UCLA study released on January 20, “Latino found that over 90% of those detained are Latino.
If we would “go forth,” we would see anguish, hurt, and a sense of alarm all around us and perhaps among our neighbors, our coworkers, and our fellow synagogue members and staff.
And now, seeing the killing of Renee Good by an ICE agent, has shaken us, similar to how seeing the killing of an immigrant Israelite slave shook Moses to his core.
So, now, let us ensure that all who need to be seen are seen, and that we are among the ones seeing.
From Seeing to Responding
And then, like Moses, we need to dedicate ourselves to responding. What might we do? We all need to do consider what is in our comfort zone, but the things we might do include:
- Hold a town hall forum, so our congregants can discuss this within a Jewish framework;
- Have information available to our congregations (and staff, and guests and visitors) on what do or say, or not, if stopped by ICE agents;
- Hold trainings for synagogue boards and lay leaders, so that all are on the same page about our policies and interests, and so they know such things as the difference between administrative and judicial warrants;
- Reach out to other faith communities in our area, particularly those we know have considerable Latino constituencies, to see how we might help/be supportive;
- Offer a mini-course on גרים/migrants and Judaism;
- Sign on to petitions calling for such things as impartial investigations of incidents such as Renee Good’s killing, for more transparency, better training for ICE agents, to stop recruitment from among white supremacist extremists;
- Reach out to friends, families, colleagues, etc. to offer support.
[For examples of these, and for other resources and ideas, one should see the Immigration Resource page on the Rabbinical Assembly website and the Immigration page on the United Synagogue for Conservative Judaism website.]
None of us can do everything. But almost all of us can do at least one thing.
Choosing to Follow Moses
We Jews have historically lamented that non-Jews have not done enough civil disobedience to protect us. And, we have praised and honored those righteous gentiles who have.
Of course, we do not know how many Jews are directly affected by ICE raids. As my child is of Guatemalan birth, my family is.
Jewish values like honesty, decency, compassion, and integrity all indicate that this is indeed a moment that is beyond mere conversation—as helpful as those might be. This is a moment calling on us to live our faith.
Vayigdal, vayeitsei, vayar. Moses grew, Moses went forth, Moses saw. And immediately afterward, Moses made a change in lifestyle and priorities to make a difference.
We too need a life that is marked by unceasing growth, a life that takes us out of ourselves and into the lives of others, a life that gives us the capacity to see what should be seen, a life in which we assume some piece of responsibility.
There was only one Moses. We may not have his capacities precisely, but within us there reside holy sparks. And Moses represents in heightened form what you and I possess, and what you and I might attain. We cannot be Moses, and we cannot be quite like Moses, but we can achieve something of the Mosaic spirit if we, too, vanigdal, vaneitsei, vanir’eh, if we will grow, go forth, and see.
Let us awaken, and begin.
Author
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Rabbi Dr. J.B. Sacks (he/him) is the spiritual leader of Congregation Beth Shalom (Palm Desert, California).
The first openly LGBTQ+ rabbi in the Conservative Movement, Rabbi Sacks is an advocate for inclusion in Jewish life and social justice. His most recent publication is Psalms in the Key of Healing.
Rabbi Sacks is the eighteenth generation of rabbis on his mother’s side and lives with his husband Steven Karash in Palm Desert, California. They have an adult son, Evan.
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