From Names to Nation
If you’ve ever repeated your story about a wrong turn in life that somehow worked out for the best, you probably didn’t leave out a single detail. You’d set the scene, describe the details where it went wrong, and then extra focus on the moment where it unexpectedly came together (for context, How I Met Your Mother stretched out for eight seasons).
This week’s parsha starts in a similar way. We’re given a detailed introduction to the story of the Jewish people in Egypt; the names of those who went down, what their lives were like, and how they settled there. It’s almost excessive, considering we already know from next week’s Parsha that the new Pharaoh turns the whole thing on its head, enslaving the very people who initially came seeking safety and security.
The details in this week’s parsha (like in every Parsha) aren’t filler. They matter. The Torah may be showing us the starting point, so we can better appreciate the transformation. The Jews enter Egypt as individuals, each with their own name and identity. By the time they leave, they’re a nation.
That transformation didn’t happen because life in Egypt was easy. Quite literally the opposite. The pain and suffering they endured there shaped them into a nation ready to stand together at Har Sinai. They entered Egypt for survival and left with a purpose to receive the Torah.
We recount the story every year at the Pesach Seder and mention it every Friday night in Kiddush and in the daily Shema. We don’t sugarcoat it or push it aside. We embrace it as part of who we are, which raises the idea of when it comes to the tough sections of our own lives, should we bury them because they’re painful, or should we face them head-on, retelling the story until it becomes part of who we are?
Physiologists debate this. Some say it’s better to move on and avoid reopening wounds. Others argue that revisiting the pain helps you process and grow. The Torah’s way seems pretty clear: don’t bury it. Retell it, own it, learn from it.
Why do we do that? Because those painful moments aren’t just interruptions in the story—they’re part of the story. They shape us, teach us, and remind us of what we’re capable of. And isn’t that true for all of us? The moments we’d rather forget often end up being the ones that define us. They make us stronger and more aware.
Strength is about being able to see and talk about the full picture – not just the ending, but every step along the way. The good, the bad, and the unexpected are all part of the journey. By embracing it all, we will become something greater than we ever thought possible.
Shabbat Shalom!