Darkness, Angels, and the Leap

In Hebrew School once, we staged a blackout. At the end of the day, when it was dark outside, we gathered all the classes for an assembly when suddenly all the lights went out. In the darkness, I explained the pain of the Egyptians during the plague of darkness, recorded in this week's Torah portion of Bo. According to the Midrash, it was darkness so thick, that people could not move. It lasted for three days and it terrified the Egyptians. "Why would G-d make people suffer this way?" one student asked.

Jewish mysticism teaches that there is no bad that comes from G-d. In our pursuit of a more spiritual and meaningful existence, we must be open to divine messages. The blessings in our lives, the miracles around us, the kindness others show to us—these are all messages to us. In fact, the Hebrew word for messenger, "Maalach," is the same as the word for angel. G-d sends us angels in the form of blessings. If we can pause long enough to see them, these angels carry with them a powerful message. Be thankful, be loving, be open to inner growth, move beyond yourself today. Sometimes, the angels come in other forms.

When one begins to take blessings for granted, perhaps the soul must be opened through challenge.

In each of us there is a Pharaoh, a self-destructive impulse that allows us to act against our better instincts. In the pursuit of these behaviors, we refuse to see our own vulnerability; we become rigid in our refusal to learn from our mistakes. Like the Egyptians who enslaved the Jews, we face ourselves in the dark, unable to move. The Midrash tells us that many of the Jews died during the plague of darkness. They were unwilling to move from the rigid behaviors they had learned. Freedom can be frightening. Sometimes it is easier to hold on to old patterns, however constricting they become.

If we allow ourselves to see angels, in blessings and in challenges, we can move away from the darkness. At the end of the Torah portion, the Jews prepare to leave Egypt. They are redeemed at night but do not leave until morning. In the meantime, they prepare to go, "Bichipazon," in great haste. Even G-d, it seems, is in a hurry. The name of the Passover holiday, Pesach, means "to leap," because G-d leaps from door to door to save the Jews during the last plague. To take a leap means that one loses contact with the earth momentarily.

It is a sign of recovery, of a passion that is born from springing free from one's own rigidity.