Parashat Sh'mot--Spiritual Exile

This week, we begin a new book of Torah.  Exodus.  Sh’mot in Hebrew.  We often speak of the famous exodus memorialized in this book.  The Exodus from Egypt, in which Moses leads the Israelites out of bondage, out of slavery, out of the Narrow Place.

But, as this book of Torah opens, there is no hint of bondage, no hint of slavery, no fear of the Narrow Land.  Rather, this week’s Torah portion begins with an exodus into Egypt, as Joseph’s brothers and their families follow his footsteps southward from Canaan.

They had no idea what they were walking into. 

And, doesn’t this story of our ancestors ring true?  That which enslaves us often creeps up unannounced…out of places of plenty, experiences of goodness, lives of fullness.  And then slowly, and without warning, we find ourselves not on some exotic adventure or frivolous vacation, but in exile.  Distanced from freedom, separated from wholeness.

To be in exile is a spiritual condition.  We are in exile when we find ourselves somehow separated from God, separated from the sacred.  We are in exile when we feel an absence of the divine in our lives. 


When we are in exile, we are spiritually marooned.  Spiritually lost.  Disconnected.

This week’s Torah portion is about experiencing exile and longing for redemption.

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The Torah tells us how the Israelites went from freedom to slavery.  It reads: “A new king arose over Egypt who did not know Joseph. And he said to his people, "Look, the Israelite people are much too numerous for us. Let us deal shrewdly with them, so that they may not increase” (Exodus 1:8-10).

Exile happens to us.  Without our intending it.  Without our wishing it.  Suddenly, something around us changes.  And what started as a journey to a land of plenty (good living), becomes enslavement.  A simple story.

But, Torah teaches us that exile is not a permanent condition.  Every exile holds the promise of redemption.

The Sefat Emet teaches us that Torah speaks of three different types of exile. 
1.    Imprisonment
2.    Humility
3.    Poverty

And with each of these types of exile, we are promised three different acts of redemption, for Torah teaches us that God:
1.    Brings forth the prisoners
2.    Delivers the humble
3.    Helps the needy

And we ask:  What is the meaning behind each of these types of exile?  What does it mean to be a prisoner?  What does it mean to be humbled?  What does it mean to be needy?

First—The prisoner.

The Sefat Emet teaches us that we are prisoners when we are “unable to broaden out that point of divine life that is within [us].”  We are imprisoned when we fail to recognize that there is an essential spark inside each of us.  We are imprisoned when we are unable to tap into that source of life and goodness.  We are imprisoned when we are unable to tap into its strength.

But, God brings us prisoners forth.

Second—The humble.

The humble person is a righteous person, one who need not be in exile, but who remains there selflessly.  Working to redeem others.  Moses, the Sefat Emet teaches, was one of the humble.  He himself could have been redeemed, but remained in Egypt in order to lead his people out.  And there are those of us who spend our days redeeming others.  We work tirelessly to rescue those amongst us who are lost or fallen or faltering.  We are reminded this week that this work comes at a toll.  We who exile ourselves by choice need special care.  We too must claim moments of rest, moments of freedom, moments of peace.

And, God, we are taught, delivers the humble.

And finally, the third type of exile—The needy.

“The needy,” we are taught, refers to “those lowly ones who do not yet even feel their exile.”  Yes, says the Sefat Emet, “they are in need of the greatest salvation.”  Our ancestors suffered under the cruel king’s tyranny for years without realizing they were enslaved.  It was not until that king died that the Israelites first cried out.  They moaned and called out for help.  And God heard them.  And remembered.  And saw them.

God, we are taught, helps the needy

Redemption is impossible until we recognize that we are in exile.  Until we cry out.  Until we sigh under the burden.  This is the great act of strength.  Falling into exile is passive.  Readying for redemption is active.

We are taught there is a final act of redemption, one that is due to us all.  God tells us:  “I will take you as My people” (Exodus 6:7).  No longer lost.  No longer separated.  Claimed.  Whole.  Connected.

The Sefat Emet finishes, “Something like this is true of every exile.  But more than that, all these rungs seem to exist in every person as well.  Every [person] has some inner place in which he is a free person.”

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And now I invite you look inward.  Imagine that first cry our ancestors made.  The original sigh, which grew to a moan, and cascaded into a call, one heard by God.  Imagine the relief they felt, finally naming that which oppressed them.

And now I invite you to consider your own life.  Imagine the divine spark deep within you, your source of freedom.  Breathe into it.  Breathe out of it.

This is the first act of redemption.  This a Shabbat for claiming freedom.  All the rest is still yet to follow.  Only potentials.  Only possibilities.