Passover 5786
From Egypt to Promised Land
While there are seemingly endless interpretations of the Torah, when it comes to Passover (which begins the evening of Wednesday, April 1), I nevertheless find myself coming back repeatedly to certain teachings: the message of a future redemption hidden in the seder; which of the four children is really the wisest; how, according to the Haggadah, each of us are supposed to imagine that we are leaving our own personal Egypt; that, no matter how dire the situation may feel, there is always hope for redemption.
One of the teachings I always find myself returning to is from Prof. Michael Walzer, a political philosopher who wrote the book, Exodus and Revolution. As I listen to and read the news and talk with many of you about the state of the world—about how, no matter what side of the political aisle each of us is on, we feel as if the world is crumbling around us—I'm reminded more and more of Walzer’s main teaching about the Exodus (with my commentary added):
- Wherever you are, it’s probably Egypt. One of the few things we can all agree on is that the world we are living in is not the best possible world. Even for those of us who are doing well, we can see that the world around us is broken, unredeemed, and difficult. It is metaphorically Egypt, a place where we feel enslaved and abused.
- There is a better place, a world more attractive, a Promised Land. Foundational to Jewish thought—and the Passover story—is that there is always hope for something better. We may be in Egypt, a land of abuse and suffering, but there is hope for a Promised Land, symbolizing a better world and a better life.
- The only way to this Promised Land is through the wilderness. There is no way to get there except by joining together and marching. The journey to get to the Promised Land is perilous. There is no easy way to get there and no shortcuts. The only way to achieve a better world is through trekking through the wilderness—a place of danger, struggle, and vulnerability. At the same time, none of us can make the trip on his or her own. The only way through the wilderness—the only way to build a better world—is together.
Many of us feel like we’re in Egypt right now. Between economics, antisemitism, potential war, and political tensions—not to mention our own personal struggles—it's difficult for us to see this present world as the best possible one. We dream of a better world and a better life. But for us to achieve it, we have to be ready for an Exodus, a journey through the wilderness. We have to let down our guards, be ready to empathize with each other’s pain, and start working to make our way to the Promised Land. And none of us can do it alone; we need each of us to work together to get there.
May our celebration of Passover this year help us realize the need to begin moving to the Promised Land, strengthen us for the journey ahead, and remind us that to build a better world, we have to do it together.
Hag Kasher v’Sameah--wishing you a meaningful and joyous Passover holiday. I look forward to crossing the wilderness together.
Rabbi Steven Henkin


