All Is Not Lost

My dear friend Dr. Julie Zweig forwarded me an astonishing article.
Entitled “From the ashes of a Pasadena synagogue, a powerful discovery is made” the
LA Times shares an incredible story.
As we are all aware, there have been terrible wildfires in California which have wreaked much havoc and destruction.
One of the many buildings that were burned in the fire was a synagogue in Pasadena. The whole edifice came down.
Except for one wall.
To the shock and surprise of all, the wall that remained had been hidden behind years of construction which now had been removed to reveal a mural.
The mural depicted a Biblical scene which seems to show the Jews walking in the desert; men, women and children. Some of those portrayed are playing instruments, and in the midst of it all, a towering and majestic palm tree takes center stage.
The reveal of this mural gave much hope and inspiration to the congregation.
During such a dark time, they felt the message that hope is hiding behind the destruction.
All is not lost.
The timing of this find could not be more appropriate.
This week’s Torah portion is called VaErah and it depicts one of the lowest periods in Jewish history.
The Jewish people are enslaved in Egypt and are subjected to the worst brutality imaginable.
They are tortured and terrorized.
All of a sudden, a man named Moshe, Moses, appears on the scene and announces he has been sent to redeem them and take them out of this horrible slavery.
We can imagine the response.
Dancing in the streets.
Fireworks.
Euphoria.
Strangely enough - none of the above.

The Torah reports that the people refused to listen
“from shortness of breath and hard work”.
It’s not that they didn’t believe Moshe.
They just couldn’t breathe.
The Seforno, Italian 15 century commentator, teaches us they couldn’t respond because they didn’t have a minute to breathe let alone process any information.
They were functioning from moment to moment in survival mode.
That gives us a window of understanding to another strange reality.
The Torah reports that the Pharoah died and the Jews cried.
That is most befuddling.
This Pharaoh was the source of their misery. Wouldn’t they rejoice over his demise, why cry?
In the same vein as the Seforno, another commentator, known as the Emek Davar, teaches us that on the day Pharaoh died, a day of national mourning was declared.
Even the Jews did not have to work.
They had a minute to catch their breath and assess their situation.
Instead of mindlessly following the decrees of their taskmasters, the Jews were able to think.
And when they did, they realized that life does not have to be this treacherous and cruel. Life could be better.
And in the face of that reality, they cried.
The expansiveness of the moment allowed them
To feel.
Rabbi Hillel Eisenberg asks a fundamental question.
Why does a person age before they die?
Unfortunately some are plucked in the bloom of youth, but the natural progression is to slow down, age, and then ultimately pass on from this world.
This transition allows a person to take stock of life.
In the day to day of life, the veritable rat race of existence, we are moving so fast, we don’t have a chance to breathe, think and find the meaning in life.
Sometimes it takes something tragic to reveal something hidden and beautiful.
Sometimes it requires adversity to uncover the hidden strengths.
Sometimes it requires loss for us to appreciate that which we have.
Are we too imprisoned
Are we enslaved?
Our Sages teach us that the Hebrew name for Egypt is Mitzrayim, which means from the straits, a very narrow and constricting, confining space.
Each of us is in our own personal Mitrayim.
We are imprisoned in an Egypt which does not allow us to inhale and explore all the possibilities before us.
The mural hidden behind the synagogue wall elicited gasps of wonder, deep intakes of breath.
It reminds us that there are many hidden gifts we may be able to access in the most unlikely places.
It reminds us that the sojourn in the desert brought us to a land of palm trees.
It reminds us to breathe.
Breathing doesn’t come naturally nowadays.
The news often makes us hold our breath.
We rejoice in the homecoming of three of our beloved hostages, and pray, pray so hard we almost can’t breathe, for the rest to come home, safe, healthy and soon.
Then we will take a deep breath
Shabbat Shalom and so much love!