Each year we read these sentiments with hope: hope that we discover new meaning in the retelling of the Exodus, and hope that, perhaps this year, we somehow will inspire ourselves to achieve these expectations.
When our people left Egypt, however, they initially did not realize the obligations that accompany being a liberated people. Our desert ancestors were happy to throw down the shackles of Pharaoh’s service, thrilled to be free of the lash and whip.
But Moses’ message to Pharaoh was clear: The freed Israelites were destined to serve God, and be accountable to a higher authority.
With freedom comes responsibility, and the responsibility that we bear extends at least as far back as Isaiah, who identified us as “a covenant people” and a “light of nations” (Isaiah 42:6).
This responsibility is spelled out by that prophet. In the very next verse, Isaiah defines our worldly task, which was “to open eyes that are blind, to free captives from prison and to release from the dungeon those who sit in darkness.”
These are noble tasks for our people, yet in our day, our heated internal disagreements can impede our ability to achieve true greatness.
When our internal differences turn into open scorn and derision, we abandon not only the sense of unity but also the moral authority that once accompanied our tasks.
When adherents of one stream of Judaism publicly decry and disparage the religious practices of another, we distance ourselves from the goal of unity.
When Israel-based ideologues attempt to stifle the voices of Diaspora Jews who rightly believe that they share in the destiny of the Jewish state, we diminish our reputation as a resilient and strong people.
When Israeli government officials use notions of treason to describe the actions of Israelis legitimately seeking to criticize their government, we seriously endanger the values of freedom of thought and expression.
When American Jewish neoconservatives openly criticize their more moderate co-religionists who support Israeli peace negotiations with the Palestinians over a continuation of the status quo, we dilute the strength and moral stature with which we normally imbue our mission in the world.
At this ‘season of our freedom,’ let us be careful in the ways we exercise our freedoms. Yes, we have freedom of speech in Israel and in America, but let us learn to use our speech wisely. Let us not succumb to yelling, ranting and raving at a time when we should be calling for calm.
We will likely feel a certain catharsis when we cavalierly criticize or raise our voices. But such conduct has never been effective for promoting Jewish causes, or achieving Jewish objectives.
We are, perhaps, still becoming “a covenant people” and a “light of nations.” We still may be advancing “toward” the sovereignty of God, as the Haggadah passage above indicates.
So let us not decline the challenge of our destiny, to be that exemplar people, worthy of all of God’s blessings. Our history continues. And all of this work is praiseworthy, to be sure.
Rabbi Jonathan Biatch is the spiritual leader of Temple Beth El in Madison.



