Parashat Bo
January 29, 2025
Rabbi Tavi Koslowe, Ninth-Grade Dean
The story of our exodus from Egypt isn’t just the beginning of the Jewish nation — it’s also the source of many mitzvot (commandments) in the Torah. Some of these mitzvot are meant to strengthen our connection with God, like wearing tefillin, putting up a mezuzah, or making Kiddush on Shabbat. Others focus on teaching us to care for people around us, like not twisting justice for orphans or taking away a widow’s clothing as a loan guarantee (Devarim 24:17). Over and over, the Torah reminds us of the reason behind these commandments with the words: “You shall remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt.”
At first, this idea makes perfect sense. After all, we know what it was like to be treated unfairly, so it’s logical to use that experience to inspire us to treat others with kindness. For example, the Torah tells us to leave part of our harvest in the fields for strangers, orphans, and widows (Devarim 24:21). Why? Because we know what it feels like to go hungry, just like we did as slaves in Egypt.
So, if we can’t rely on our memory of suffering as slaves, what should inspire us to help others?
Rabbi Lamm offered a beautiful answer, based on an idea from the Ba’al HaTurim (Rabbi Yaakov ben Asher). He suggested that when the Torah tells us to “remember that we were slaves in Egypt,” it’s not focusing on the years of pain and suffering. Instead, it’s asking us to recall an extraordinary moment of kindness from this week’s parashah Parashat Bo: when the Egyptians lent their gold, silver, and clothing to the Israelites before they left Egypt (Exodus 11:2). This unexpected act of generosity from an unlikely source, albeit contrived by God, is what we’re meant to remember.
The Ba’al HaTurim teaches us that this moment of kindness should shape how we treat others. Rather than dwelling on our pain or bitterness, we should focus on gratitude for the good we’ve received. When we have the chance to help someone else, we can think back to that moment and say, “I want to pass on the kindness I once experienced.” While hurt and anger may fade, the memory of kindness and generosity should stay with us forever.
Shabbat Shalom.
At first, this idea makes perfect sense. After all, we know what it was like to be treated unfairly, so it’s logical to use that experience to inspire us to treat others with kindness. For example, the Torah tells us to leave part of our harvest in the fields for strangers, orphans, and widows (Devarim 24:21). Why? Because we know what it feels like to go hungry, just like we did as slaves in Egypt.
But Rabbi Norman Lamm, in a sermon from 1968, pointed out that this reasoning might not always hold up. He raised two potential problems with basing our kindness only on our memory of suffering:
- The “You Think You Had It Bad” Argument: Imagine you complain to an older relative about walking to shul in the cold. What do they say? “You think that’s bad? Back in my day, I walked miles in the snow with shoes that had holes in them!” Similarly, a Hebrew slave from Egypt might say, “Don’t compare this widow or orphan to what we went through as slaves!” In other words, the memory of suffering could lead us to downplay other people’s struggles instead of helping them.
- The “School of Hard Knocks” Argument: Some might think, “Yes, slavery was awful, but it actually made us stronger as a nation.” If we believe that hardship builds strength, we might refuse to help others, thinking, “If they struggle now, it’ll make them tougher in the future.”
So, if we can’t rely on our memory of suffering as slaves, what should inspire us to help others?
Rabbi Lamm offered a beautiful answer, based on an idea from the Ba’al HaTurim (Rabbi Yaakov ben Asher). He suggested that when the Torah tells us to “remember that we were slaves in Egypt,” it’s not focusing on the years of pain and suffering. Instead, it’s asking us to recall an extraordinary moment of kindness from this week’s parashah Parashat Bo: when the Egyptians lent their gold, silver, and clothing to the Israelites before they left Egypt (Exodus 11:2). This unexpected act of generosity from an unlikely source, albeit contrived by God, is what we’re meant to remember.
The Ba’al HaTurim teaches us that this moment of kindness should shape how we treat others. Rather than dwelling on our pain or bitterness, we should focus on gratitude for the good we’ve received. When we have the chance to help someone else, we can think back to that moment and say, “I want to pass on the kindness I once experienced.” While hurt and anger may fade, the memory of kindness and generosity should stay with us forever.
Shabbat Shalom.