Freedom and A New Perspective- Pekudei/Shabbat Hachodesh 5785

This Shabbat is a banner Shabbat in the Jewish calendar. We read parshat Pekudei, which completes our yearly reading of the book of Exodus. It is also Shabbat HaHodesh, which is the last of the four special Shabbatot before Passover. “HaHodesh”, literally “the month”, refers to the new Hebrew month of Nissan, which begins this evening and during which we’ll celebrate Passover, which is the most widely-celebrated holiday among Jews worldwide. 

Nissan, as described in our maftir aliyah, is to be the “first of the months”, and it is our original new year. It’s a sign that our Passover preparations should begin in earnest, which in my house means that we really begin getting rid of all of our chametz: eat all the cereal, bake a loaf of bread here, drink a beer there, eat all the tortilla chips…it’s a very “carby” time.

On Shabbat HaHodesh, our maftir reading is the first section of chapter 12 of Exodus, which describes how the Israelites are to eat the Passover sacrifice in perpetuity. It also describes how this month shall be “the first of the months” for us going forward, and how leaving Egypt and slavery behind means that we are to take stock of time differently. Slaves, for whom time is not their own, don’t have the luxury of keeping track of it in their own way. For the 430 years that the Israelites were slaves, one day simply blurred into the next in a seemingly unending progression of forced labor. Now, on the cusp of freedom, G-d commands the Israelites to implement a new calendar, and by extension, adopt an entirely new worldview that does not include slavery.

Rashi, in his comment on the very first verse of the Torah, wonders why the Torah itself doesn’t begin with this reading. After all, this is the very first commandment given to the Israelites as a whole nation. If the Torah is to be seen as a list of commandments, why not simply start here? One possible reason that Rashi doesn’t bring is that it’s necessary to acknowledge the past while embracing the future. As the adage goes: those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it. 

From this point forward, a great deal of what the Israelites experience and what they are commanded is informed by their experience as slaves in Egypt. To illustrate one well-known example: after leaving Egypt, the Israelites are told no less than 36 times, by one count, to love the stranger- “for you were strangers in the land of Egypt”. The Israelites know firsthand what it is to be strangers in a strange land. While embracing a new way of being, they carry their history with them, so that they can always know from whence they come in order to reach their fullest potential. 

One of Judaism’s greatest strengths, which is alluded to by this teaching, is that the tradition is portable. Indeed, the maftir states that observing Pesach is to be done in all our settlements, throughout all time. No matter where we find ourselves, we are beholden to observe this sacred occasion. In fact, the largest Passover seder in the world is given not in Israel or New York, but in Nepal by the Nepalese Chabad Center. According to an NPR report from a few years ago, they import “about 2,0000 pounds of matzah from Israel, 200 pounds of beef from New York and 25 gallons of palm oil from Malaysia.” In addition, instead of paying the expense of importing many gallons of wine, they make their own in huge plastic tanks on the roof which normally hold water.

It’s an incredible use of space, which is echoed in parshat Pekudei which we read this morning. In our parsha, the desert tabernacle is about to reach its full potential. We read a few weeks ago in parshat Terumah about how all who were “generous of heart” (nedivat lev) contributed all manner of materials to create the structure itself- it’s walls, partitions, boards, sockets, hooks, etc.- as well as the accouterments that go along with it, such as the menorah, the showbread, the altar, and the priestly garments. It’s truly a group project, to the point that Moses is informed that the people have brought too much stuff and has to tell the Israelites “dayenu”- “enough!”. 

After everything is built and fashioned, the menorah put in place, the oil and incense prepared, the clothing sewed, it comes time to actually use it all. The book of Leviticus, which we begin next week, describes the use of this sacred space and its sacred implements, detailing exactly how the Israelites are to manifest their relationship to God, who brought them out of Egypt. 

Over the next two weeks, we prepare our homes and our bodies to reach their own fullest potential as we begin to celebrate our freedom anew. Just as on Rosh Hashanah (and yes, the secular new year as well) we make resolutions to improve our lives, the new year that begins at this time offers an opportunity for self-reflection. 

As we turn to spring and the start of another agricultural cycle, around which the holidays of the Jewish calendar revolve, we ask ourselves: where in our lives are we free? Where are we still slaves? In what way is the memory of Egypt still present for us? How can we work towards freedom for ourselves and others from this Passover onwards? 

The Haggadah reminds us in one of my favorite passages: 

בְּכָל־דּוֹר וָדוֹר חַיָּב אָדָם לִרְאוֹת אֶת־עַצְמוֹ כְּאִלּוּ הוּא יָצָא מִמִּצְרַיִם

“In every generation a person is obligated to see themselves as if they personally went out of Egypt.” 

May we always strive to approach things with a fresh perspective, never hesitate to change how we view ourselves (just as the Israelites did on the cusp of freedom), and be able to use the lessons of our past to build a brighter future for all.