Teaneck, N.J. — What does it take for God to respond? The answer is couched in Exodus 2:23-24: “And it was in those many days that the king of Egypt died; and the children of Israel groaned from their bondage, and they cried, and their cry ascended to God from their travail. And God heard….”
Clearly, something tips the balance. With the death of the Egyptian king, the children of Israel descend to a new depth of despair. So anguished are their cries, HaShem can no longer ignore the pain. He responds and the Exodus begins.
Yet the text remains unclear. What gives rise to this new urgency after centuries of slavery? What is the relationship between the death of the Egyptian king and pain of the Jewish slaves?
The medieval Spanish commentator Ramban suggests that, at this moment, the Jewish slaves finally confront the reality of their situation. Until now they could have deluded themselves into thinking that their slavery came from the tyranny one particular king. If that king would die the slavery would end.
Now, however, the truth is apparent. The king has died and there is no change. The Jews must resign themselves to torment with no end in sight. This creates the despair that causes HaShem to respond.
My synagogue has conducted solidarity missions to Israel for more than 12 years — since the onset of the first intifada. We have traveled to our homeland during extremely difficult times.
Yet never have I returned from one of these journeys as deeply distressed as this past week. For the first time I felt a deep sense of resignation to an untenable situation, an acceptance of the unacceptable.
Somehow before, one always found a feeling of hope, of light at the end of the tunnel. You could always assume the difficulties were temporary, that the violence would soon end.
This time, however, no matter whom you spoke to — left, right, center; Israeli or Palestinian — they all said the same thing. There are no solutions in sight. The situation will remain as it is for the foreseeable future.
We must visit
I returned more convinced than ever before of our responsibility. For if God responded, so many centuries ago, at the moment of His people’s anguish and resignation, perhaps He is teaching us that we cannot fail to respond when faced with similar circumstances and challenge.
And there is something we can do beyond the contributions, the rallies, and the political activism. Now, more than ever, we must visit Israel: pumping money into the Israeli economy, providing jobs for those in need, and, above all, addressing the deep sense of abandonment that our brothers and sisters feel. Make no mistake about it, the citizens of Israel feel abandoned by the majority of American Jewry.
In fact, I believe that we have reached a critical moment in our relationship with Israel — one of those moments concerning which our children will one day ask, “What did you do?”
Just as we ask our parents and grandparents concerning their activities during the dark years of the 1940s, our children will ask us: “What did you do when the shops were shuttered, when the streets were bare, when the hotel lobbies were dark? Did you travel to Israel? Did you lend your support during this difficult time or were your journeys to Florida, Puerto Rico, Bermuda or Arizona?”
That’s why this year Pesach is so important. For years, I and other rabbis have waged a losing battle to convince our congregants to stay home for this holiday.
The mass exodus from our communities over Passover stands in stark contrast to the traditional concept of home observance which has always characterized the festival. Pesach, we have agreed, was never meant to be a vacation but a meaningful, if challenging, yom tov spent at home.
This year, however, I would suggest that we should no longer ignore the reality. No matter how hard we preach, our congregants, in large number, will travel. Millions, perhaps billions, of dollars will be spent by members of the Jewish community across America on their Passover journeys.
What if we were to redirect those millions of dollars to the Israeli economy? What if we were to convince members of the Jewish community to spend their Passover in Israel rather than at other destinations?
Not only would the Passover experience regain its meaning, but we would be supporting the Israeli economy at a time when it desperately needs our support; at a time when every hotel room we book, every item we buy, even every falafel we eat (pesachdic, of course) helps keep businesses open. Little by little we can change the reality as we demonstrate that Pesach should be observed either at home or in Israel.
A word about safety: One cannot argue that a trip to Israel today is totally risk-free, although the reality is certainly a far cry from the picture our fears paint from afar.
However, life is full of risks that we choose to take. Every time we put skis upon our children we take a risk. When our children receive their drivers’ licenses we take a risk — and now even America, as a country, has been shown to be at risk.
I firmly believe we can travel to Israel today safely and responsibly. I also believe that in doing so we will teach our children that there are certain minimal risks worth taking.
We are not being asked to send our children to the army. We are simply being asked to visit and celebrate a Pesach that we will remember always.
Pesach in Israel. It has a nice ring. If you intend to stay home for the Passover festival, then by all means do so. If, however, you are going to travel for Pesach, how can you travel anywhere else?
Rabbi Shmuel Goldin is religious leader of Congregation Ahavath Torah in Englewood. This article first appeared in The Jewish Standard, Teaneck, N.J.
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