“In every generation, one must see oneself as if one personally left Egypt.” (Mishna, Pesachim 10:5).
Passover teaches us that we must be part of a story – living as if we ourselves had been in Egypt, experiencing the miracle of liberation from slavery to freedom.
Year after year, this is a story of memory, freedom, and belonging.
The Exodus from Egypt is the foundational story of our people. It is woven into our traditions – recalled in every holiday, in the kiddush on Shabbat and holidays, in the affixing of the mezuzah, in the laying of tefillin, and in moments of prayer. It is a narrative that imprints the consciousness of freedom, equality, and social justice onto our sacred texts and into the hearts of those who believe.
No fewer than 36 times, the Torah commands us regarding the stranger in our midst. We must not wrong or oppress them. Instead, we must show love and care.
Thirty-six times. More than any other commandment in the Torah.
'Every Jew was in Egypt'
The reason for this repeated commandment? “For you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” (Exodus 23:9) We were there. Every Jew was in Egypt. Every Jew must see themselves as if they personally left Egypt.
And this experience must teach us the fundamental principle that what is hateful to us, we must not do to others.
This is the mission of our tradition in general and of liberal, humanistic Jewish education in particular.
I do not know of any other people who have so unequivocally chosen a story of slavery and liberation as their defining national narrative.
Most foundational stories of cultures, religions, and nations revolve around great military victories, conquests, and triumphs.
But the Jewish people, with modesty, sensitivity, and profound wisdom, chose a different story – a story of struggle against oppression and the challenge of freedom.
In the desert, upon leaving Egypt, the Jewish people received the Ten Commandments.
God could have introduced Godself in many ways in the very first commandment.
God could have declared: “I am the Lord your God, Creator of Heaven and Earth” – but God did not.
God could have proclaimed: “I am the Lord your God, Builder and Destroyer of Worlds” – but God did not.
God could have stated: “I am the Lord your God, the Great, the Mighty, and the Awesome” – but God did not.
Instead, the God of Israel chose to introduce Godself to the world and to the people of Israel in a profoundly significant way:
“I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.” (Exodus 20:2)
The meaning of faith in God, as God speaks to us in the desert, is not about power or dominion – it is about the strength, inspiration, and hope that faith instills in us as human beings. It is about our ability to be messengers in the world for the idea of freedom.
This is Judaism’s mission in the world and the purpose of education in general and Jewish education in particular: to free humanity from its chains, to teach every person to be truly free, and to understand the profound power of freedom and the responsibility that comes with it.
Today, as 59 of our brothers and sisters have been held captive in Gaza for over a year and a half, suffering and dying in Hamas’s tunnels, this year’s mission is clearer than ever.
At a time when public discourse in Israel has become increasingly violent and divisive, we must teach our students how to use language differently and how to engage in disagreement in a way that is thoughtful and respectful, rather than following the disgraceful and harmful example set by some of our leaders.
We will continue, with courage and determination, to engage our students in meaningful conversations. These include liberal Jewish identity and the importance of strengthening our ties with our brothers and sisters in the Diaspora.
Together, we will examine our behavior toward non-Jews, foreigners, and those who dwell among us, as well as reflect on the moral teachings of Israel’s prophets. The pursuit of equality – both broadly and in terms of gender equality – remains central, alongside a deep commitment to environmental responsibility and community leadership.
In all these areas, we are sometimes enslaved – to habits, flawed norms, and a moral framework distorted by misinformation – that dominates our lives and does not promote the values of social justice, equality, and tikkun olam (repairing the world).
We must break free from these chains and bring forth the message of freedom – this beautiful message of Judaism – to the world’s attention.
Wishing you a meaningful and joyous Festival of Freedom.
The writer, a rabbi, is the managing director and headmaster of the Leo Baeck Education Center.