This was a message I shared among my family  (both my natural family and the one I have adopted as my family) on the Shabat before Pesach, which is known as Shabat Hagadol, the Great Sabbath.

A generation or two ago, we all would know that today is Shabat Hagadol.  This Shabat and the Shabat between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kipur, the one known as Shabat Shuva, were very special Shabatot.  (The latter not just because it was the day my son celebrated his bar mitzva…)

No, these two Shabatot were the two occasions when the Rav, the esteemed leader of our shuls, would address the congregation.  Affording words of wisdom and advice by which we could better lead our lives.  (Yes, it was not a weekly address that our former rabbanim supplied; those were more often shared among the knowledgeable of the congregation, which often included many other rabbis who were not the Congregational Rabbi.)

I am not claiming that mantle.  But, as you all know, I have always sought a soap box from which I could share my views.  In previous times, those instances were met with resistance from the powers that be- those that lacked conscience, those that lacked morals, but were content to control the world the way the wanted.  Not much unlike the way TheDonald does now.

But, this is not a political rant.  No, it’s more spiritual, more religious.  One that I hope by sharing will help envelope our fears, our worries, and our concerns- sealing them away, perhaps permanently, but at least until we finish this celebration of (what I and many other Jews consider to be) our most important and relevant holiday- Pesach.   The celebration of our transition to freedom, the transition to being responsible individuals- which means we are responsible for Tikun Olam. (Tikun Olam- making the world a better place, one step at a time.  Now, you understand the sobriquet of this blog.)

Let’s do a thought experiment.  Consider ourselves in Goshen, Egypt.  Separated at night (since we slaving away during the day) from the multitudes of Egyptians who have experienced over the past months a series of national calamities.  First, their water supply was poisoned.  Either literally as blood or more likely as a red tide.  Which logically would make all those frogs unwilling to remain in their habitat, festering all over the land.  Which provided a breeding ground for lice.  (And, since most folks did not routinely cut their hair, you can imagine the problems that abounded with that plague.)

Once that subsided, the Egyptians had to deal with pestilence, a bubonic plaque for the animals.  (And, there were no vaccinations for that then, either.)  Followed by boils erupting all over the Egyptians’ bodies.  And, then, hail that flattened all their crops.  (Not quite the flattening of the curve for which we aspire right now.)  Which left the locusts more readily able to devour all the crops that were on the ground- as well as those still left standing.

It helps if we consider these akin to the results of the series of hurricanes that Puerto Rico experienced.  It helps to put these calamities in perspective.

Back to Goshen and Egypt.  Just when the Egyptians thought that there was nothing left to harm them, these folks undergo three days of darkness.  Talk about self-quarantine- these Egyptians really had to stay in place, since it was impossible to discern any objects around them.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch- oops, I mean Goshen, we Jews, while dealing with progressively harsher treatment from our taskmasters- given no bricks with which to build the towering and tipping structures of Pitom and Ramses- were not afflicted by any one of those plagues.  Which, while we are reeling from the hard labor, makes us wonder what strange power exists in this world.  Maybe Moshe is right; that power- claiming the name I shall be what I shall be– will provide us with the sustenance and strength we need to survive our situation.  Maybe, just maybe, our conditions of slavery may end.

But…

Moshe now tells us that this unseen, strange power has commanded each of us to commandeer a lamb and tie it to our bedposts.  To spend the next few days to examine it, to ensure that it is without blemish.  And, at the end of that 3-day period, we are to slash its neck, place that blood on our doorposts as a sign (for what?????), other than we are Jews following the rules of this strange power.  And, then, cook this animal and share it among ourselves in a feast.

A feast?  With blood on our doorposts?  What are we celebrating?

But, we did do just that.  Those that did found out what that blood signified.

By deliberately violating the standards of the community of Egyptians, who revered the lamb as one of their gods, by slaughtering it and devouring it, by placing its blood on our doorposts, we were marking ourselves as answering to some other power. A higher power.  One different from our Egyptian taskmasters, one who considered the gods of the Egyptians to be false, one who demanded we demonstrate our faith internally and externally.

Probably shakily as we did so, but we Jews did just that.

Only to find out that during the night, while we were celebrating, the first born of every Egyptian household, the first born of their animals all succumbed to a plague.

We survived.  No, we didn’t survive.  We marched out of our slavery into Freedom.

So, on this Shabat Hagadol- one where we know that we won’t be having that “feast”, that celebration of our liberation called the Seder among our brethren and loved ones, the message from the unseen one is still present.

No, we don’t have a Moshe to hear the words of Hashem, to interpret them for us directly.  That tradition of Hashem talking to humans ended long ago.  As demonstrated in that book of Purim, Megilat Esther, where the power of Hashem is tightly felt- but never once mentioned.  (That is the most recent book among those  of the Tanach, the Jewish Bible.)

But, the words of Hashem are clear to us.   We are to hunker down in our homes.  Have our mezuzot on our doors.  And, via Zoom, Microsoft Teams, Skype, Google, whatever means we choose- we share our thoughts and our prayers together, while separate, to celebrate this life-changing event.

This time, the plague is upon us all.  Initially, here in the States, on us more than others, since we have a habit of praying together in small spaces often, hugging each other, wishing each other the very best, as we spend our days effecting Tikun Olam.

But, even though the plague is around us, we are still here.  Despite the efforts of the many over the years (and have once again resumed this practice)  to torture and kill us.

Let us prepare our homes- as best as we can- for the coming celebration that reminds us all the time that we have an obligation for Tikun Olam.  As a partner to Hashem, who- despite the millions of us that have been killed and tortured and maimed and hurt- still ensures we are here to tell our story of freedom and ethics.

Chag Sameach l’kulchem.