When analysis or argument overrides wonder, do we risk ceding what we’re seeking in the first place? Do we risk hardened hearts like Pharaoh, even if our aim is holy?
I imagine the Israelites showing the same expression of confusion and disbelief as those families who realize that they have just lost their homes and that their lives have just been upended: not knowing to whom to turn and where to go because of a system that is not built to support them. At least in the story of the Exodus, God has other plans.
One year later, we acknowledge that the day-to-day work of governing is unceremonious. Righting past wrongs is not a singular event but a process that requires constant attention, and the significance of this first year is unclear in the moment. Like the rabbinic connection of Shavuot to Matan Torah, it will be left to future generations to discern if this one-year mark warrants a celebration.
...if, like this Pharaoh, we can move beyond the terror to seeking options with an open mind, we may find ourselves with more resources at hand than we ever realized was possible.
Just as Ephraim and Menashe became the gold standard of siblings in the eyes of Jewish tradition, so too are we called to extend a loving hand to all the people we come across, no matter who they are, how they may differ from us, or what else may be going on in our own lives.
True relationships, born out of love and respect, take time to develop. These relationships require intimacy and occasionally discomfort in order to truly know each other.
In a time when modern day Pharaohs are seeking to peddle fear, to oppress, and to erase transgender people, we can take our direction from our brave matriarchs.