January 24, 2025
Last Sunday, I sat with great anticipation as the news and images began to unfold about the release of Romi, Emily, and Doron, the first three Israeli hostages to be freed in this initial stage of the current hostage agreement and ceasefire. We are anxiously awaiting the release of four additional hostages tomorrow. All of us felt an incredible mix of emotions as we watched the three women leave the van, surrounded by a sea of Hamas terrorists. In contrast, the videos of these young women reuniting with their mothers brought me to tears. In those embraces, we felt the particularity of these emotions as our people were freed and the universal emotions reflected in the love between a parent and a child. We wait through these long days between releases of hostages with such pain and anguish, wondering who will be released next.
What is so incredible is how the hostage families are all responding. The families of those still waiting to see their loved ones are overjoyed and celebrating, even though they are still in pain. They are navigating this complex dance between the joy of the collective and the recognition of their individual needs. As we bear witness to their pain over the last 476 days, we continue to embrace these families who have been through so much, standing in awe of their resilience and their support for one another.
All this is happening as we begin reading the Book of Exodus. Having descended to Egypt—a place that was not always terrible—the new Pharaoh arises, overcome with fear as he sees the Israelites as too numerous and worries they will join other nations and rise up against the Egyptians. Mijal Bitton, a modern scholar, writes that Pharaoh is not just a ruler but a symbol of dehumanizing power. He uses his power to enslave the Israelites and order the death of all male children. As we read the Book of Exodus in the coming weeks and retell the story around our seder tables, we are reminded of the pain of being othered. For this reason, as we set forth on our journey, God reminds us to care for the stranger because we know the heart of the stranger, having been strangers in the land of Egypt. God does not stop there, also teaching us to care for the orphan and the widow.
In modern times, we know the root causes of our pain often stem from being othered, whether by Hamas terrorists in Israel, antisemites in America, or elsewhere around the world. The power of othering has been used in every generation to marginalize and oppress groups of people. In ancient times, the orphan, widow, and stranger were among those marginalized and othered. Rabbi Shmuly Yanklowitz, an Orthodox Jewish leader and founder of the Valley Beit Midrash in Phoenix, AZ, explains: “God instructs us that to be religious people, the marginalized—rather than the elite—have to be our priority. To be faithful is to orient our lives around the needs of the most vulnerable. The stranger, widow, and orphan can be understood conceptually. The mitzvot that are articulated with reference to widows, orphans, and strangers apply to all those who are marginalized, alienated, oppressed, and suffering.” (Commentary on the Book of Proverbs)
For far too many years, immigrants and the LGBTQ+ community have been marginalized. Other minorities have also been harmed. The Book of Exodus reminds us that even though we have been marginalized as individuals, the experience is meant to teach us, throughout generations, to strengthen our own identity and community while also seeing every soul as a human being. This is why we stand up for our own needs as victims of antisemitism, while also caring for the LGBTQ+ community, immigrant communities, and other minorities—because we know the heart of those who have been marginalized.
As we spend this weekend exploring antisemitism in America with Pamela Nadell, our Resler Scholar-in-Residence, and as we continue navigating our way through the verses of Exodus, we will dive into the historical lessons offered to us about power, othering, and the vulnerable in our community. We hope you will join us for a powerful weekend of learning.
Shabbat Shalom
Rabbi Rick Kellner