Va’era 5781

One of the most frequent commandments in the Torah is to ‘be kind to the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.’ In parshat Va’era, after hearing in detail about the suffering of the Israelites, we begin to hear about the suffering of the Egyptians. In this parshah, which contains the first seven plagues, there is a great deal of pain and destruction. As we know, the pain will only get worse next week in Parshat Bo, culminating in the death of the firstborn sons of all the Egyptians.

Did the Eternal lead us into slavery only so we would be able to empathize with those who are suffering? Was all of our suffering worth it? Is it so important to be able to feel the pain of others? Is it so difficult to do so without having suffered oneself? Could we not have been told to be kind to the stranger, if we had not been strangers in the land of Egypt?

Even in this parshah we can see how difficult it is to empathize with the pain of others when we do not and never have felt that pain. Nine plagues will come and go, and they will not convince Pharaoh, because Pharaoh does not suffer from them. When the Nile turns to blood, Pharaoh drinks wine. When frogs fill the room, servants carry them out. Pharaoh does not deal with lice or wild animals or cattle disease. Pharaoh stays inside when the hail falls.

No, it is only when the tenth plague comes, when it reaches into Pharaoh’s own house, when Pharaoh’s own son lies dead, that he will finally realize what his servants told him after the seventh plague: “Send out their men to serve their Gd! Do you not yet know that Egypt is lost?”¹

Were there any enablers of Pharaoh who still supported him, even at this late moment? Were there a few servants of Pharaoh who were still unable to see the destruction that had been wrought in their land? Were there still people who, personally enriched by the Israelite slaves, did not feel any compassion for the ordinary Egyptians, whose country was being destroyed by the stubbornness of the elite?

After the tenth plague, when Pharaoh finally suffers personally, he lets the people go. Unbelievably, he changes his mind a few days later. He sends the army after the fleeing Israelites. Incredibly, he still feels that he can win this contest. That it is just a matter of being tough. That it is just a matter of showing strength and being strong. Who would think so, at that point? Who would think that he could still end up winning?

People died because of Pharaoh’s refusal to give up. Because he urged his people on, telling them that they were the righteous ones, that it was not true that Gd himself had decided that the Israelites were to go free. And after the Egyptian army had drowned in the sea, what then? The midrash tells us that Pharaoh alone survived. It must have been a long walk back.

Was there a meeting of high level Egyptians who got together and suggested that maybe this person should not be Pharaoh any more? Absolute power is one thing, but even a king needs the support of his nobles. When they decide his time is up, it is up. Can we conceive of nobles who still supported Pharaoh? The plague had come to their own houses. Nobles who supported him might well have died from this plague. This plague that had come because of Pharaoh, because of his refusal to back down.

Some of his nobles likely still backed him. Some of them probably thought ‘It’s true, he is a bad Pharaoh. It’s true that after the third or fourth plague he should have admitted that he lost the struggle and let the people go. But he is still Pharaoh, and my power comes from my proximity to him. So whatever he says, I will agree.’

One of the most important lessons in the Torah is compassion for others. We were slaves in Egypt, and so we know what it is to be a slave, to be a stranger, to be an outsider. Gd gives many gifts, and suffering is one of them, please Gd, not too much. But that suffering must deepen you. It must open your heart. It must teach you compassion, because if you do not learn from your suffering, then you are defeating Gd’s purpose.

If you can walk out of your firstborn son’s death room and say ‘I still think we have a chance to beat this Gd of the Hebrews,’ even if you don’t really think so, then perhaps you are beyond saving. And if you can climb out of the closet of your legislative office where you were hiding for four hours so the mob wouldn’t kill you, and still vote against certifying an election that has been proven legitimate, perhaps you too are beyond saving.

1. Exodus 10:7