Parashat Bo meets us at a particularly challenging moment: the Israelites are still in Egypt, not yet having begun their journey toward freedom. Precisely there, at the very heart of oppression, they are given foundational commandments that define what true freedom is: preservation of memory, sanctification of time, and taking on moral responsibility.
“And you shall tell your child on that day, saying: It is because of this that the Eternal One acted for me when I came out of Egypt.”
(Exodus 13:8)
Even before the Israelites were free, they were commanded to remember and to tell the story. Not a story of heroism and triumph, but a story of enslavement, vulnerability, and the denial of rights. The Torah understands that a people who forget their own vulnerability may come to harm others. Memory is not nostalgia; it is responsibility. It is meant to shape a moral compass, reminding us again and again what human freedom truly means.
“For you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”
(Exodus 22:20)
This memory does not make us superior to others, but it emphasizes our obligation toward them. It demands sensitivity, caution, and above all: a refusal to render the suffering of others invisible.
“This month shall be for you the beginning of months; it shall be the first of the months of the year for you.”
(Exodus 12:2)
The very first commandment given to the people of Israel is the commandment of time - sanctification of the new month.
Through this command, God transfers responsibility for time into human hands. This is a profound and radical statement: freedom begins with the ability to choose. To choose when to stop, when to reflect and when to say: this is wrong.
In a world where violations of human rights can become routine, the sanctification of time is a sharp moral call: this is not the natural order of things. If human beings can be entrusted with determining sacred times, then they can - and should also be entrusted with responsibility for their moral choices.
The month of Shvat highlights this message in a special way. It is a time of blossoming and renewal. Precisely in the midst of winter, from hardened and cracked soil, the first buds appear. The month of Shvat reminds us that hope is not naïve, but a conscious decision to believe in the possibility of repair and in the human capacity to act toward it.
Why do we read about the Ten Plagues דווקא during a season of renewal? Perhaps to remind us that Egypt and Shvat exist within us at the same time. In every society, forces of fear, oppression, and indifference are at work - and in every society there is also the possibility of choosing differently. The Exodus from Egypt is not only a historical event; it is an ongoing process. Freedom that is not accompanied by moral responsibility can quickly turn into a new form of bondage.
A poem by Bella Shore for Parashat Bo reminds us of this with piercing simplicity:
I came to Pharaoh
and said to him:
Send me from bondage to freedom.
He looked at me
and answered harshly:
What do you want from me?
The matter is in your hands.
The call to freedom is not addressed only to Pharaoh. It is directed to all who hold power - political, military, legal, or civic.
Parashat Bo calls upon us not only to remember, but to act; to resist; not to stand idly by.
To remember Egypt so as to recognize injustice in the present.
To sanctify time so as to choose life, human dignity, and the image of God in every person.
To tell the story - so that we do not grow accustomed to injustice.
Join us in planting trees of justice, connecting roots to land and to our core values.
Come to the meetings of the Knesset’s Foreign Affairs and Defense Committee and raise a clear voice in favor of human life, against death penalty, and against the normalization of violence.
Join protective presence efforts in the Jordan Valley and in other places where our very human presence is a moral statement.
Freedom is not an abstract idea. It is realized through small, persistent acts, through the choice not to look away, and through the willingness to bear responsibility.
May we know, as individuals and as a society, how to choose again and again the path of freedom - and to walk it together.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Rabbi Lana Zilberman Soloway is the Senior Rabbi of Kamatz (Kehilat Mevasseret Zion) and board member of Rabbis for Human Rights.
“And you shall tell your child on that day, saying: It is because of this that the Eternal One acted for me when I came out of Egypt.”
(Exodus 13:8)
Even before the Israelites were free, they were commanded to remember and to tell the story. Not a story of heroism and triumph, but a story of enslavement, vulnerability, and the denial of rights. The Torah understands that a people who forget their own vulnerability may come to harm others. Memory is not nostalgia; it is responsibility. It is meant to shape a moral compass, reminding us again and again what human freedom truly means.
“For you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”
(Exodus 22:20)
This memory does not make us superior to others, but it emphasizes our obligation toward them. It demands sensitivity, caution, and above all: a refusal to render the suffering of others invisible.
“This month shall be for you the beginning of months; it shall be the first of the months of the year for you.”
(Exodus 12:2)
The very first commandment given to the people of Israel is the commandment of time - sanctification of the new month.
Through this command, God transfers responsibility for time into human hands. This is a profound and radical statement: freedom begins with the ability to choose. To choose when to stop, when to reflect and when to say: this is wrong.
In a world where violations of human rights can become routine, the sanctification of time is a sharp moral call: this is not the natural order of things. If human beings can be entrusted with determining sacred times, then they can - and should also be entrusted with responsibility for their moral choices.
The month of Shvat highlights this message in a special way. It is a time of blossoming and renewal. Precisely in the midst of winter, from hardened and cracked soil, the first buds appear. The month of Shvat reminds us that hope is not naïve, but a conscious decision to believe in the possibility of repair and in the human capacity to act toward it.
Why do we read about the Ten Plagues דווקא during a season of renewal? Perhaps to remind us that Egypt and Shvat exist within us at the same time. In every society, forces of fear, oppression, and indifference are at work - and in every society there is also the possibility of choosing differently. The Exodus from Egypt is not only a historical event; it is an ongoing process. Freedom that is not accompanied by moral responsibility can quickly turn into a new form of bondage.
A poem by Bella Shore for Parashat Bo reminds us of this with piercing simplicity:
I came to Pharaoh
and said to him:
Send me from bondage to freedom.
He looked at me
and answered harshly:
What do you want from me?
The matter is in your hands.
The call to freedom is not addressed only to Pharaoh. It is directed to all who hold power - political, military, legal, or civic.
Parashat Bo calls upon us not only to remember, but to act; to resist; not to stand idly by.
To remember Egypt so as to recognize injustice in the present.
To sanctify time so as to choose life, human dignity, and the image of God in every person.
To tell the story - so that we do not grow accustomed to injustice.
Join us in planting trees of justice, connecting roots to land and to our core values.
Come to the meetings of the Knesset’s Foreign Affairs and Defense Committee and raise a clear voice in favor of human life, against death penalty, and against the normalization of violence.
Join protective presence efforts in the Jordan Valley and in other places where our very human presence is a moral statement.
Freedom is not an abstract idea. It is realized through small, persistent acts, through the choice not to look away, and through the willingness to bear responsibility.
May we know, as individuals and as a society, how to choose again and again the path of freedom - and to walk it together.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Rabbi Lana Zilberman Soloway is the Senior Rabbi of Kamatz (Kehilat Mevasseret Zion) and board member of Rabbis for Human Rights.