I suggest we rethink the Exodus story. The common
understanding of the story is that one bad man named Pharoah and his people
used their power to oppress members of a powerless group of foreigners, the
Hebrews. Then, like in an action movie, God was stronger than the Pharoah, so
God beat up the Egyptians with 10 plagues and the Hebrews were freed by the relatively
weaker Egyptians.
There is another way of reading the story, that follows the
interpretation of the late Rabbi JB Soloveitchik[iii].
In considering his approach, let us not worry about the archaeological evidence
about ancient Egypt, and just follow the argument in the text to understand
what it might mean to us today[iv].
Egypt was the superpower of their time and very much a
patriarchal society where “might did make right”. As is often the case,
the ways in which societies are organised are also reflected in the dynamics in
families. The father was the head bully in the family, and the first-born male
was not far behind. The first-born males cruelly dominated their siblings and
were seen as being of higher status in the community, which enabled them to
bully some more.
This concept of the first-born son is linked to the idea
that he is the father’s “might and first manifestation of [his] vigour”[v].
In other words, the first
born son symbolised the father’s manhood and was
expected to assert his manliness over others.
In the twisted society of the Pharaoh, these ruthless men
brutally mistreated the Hebrew slaves. It is for this reason that they are
central to the process of breaking down the oppressive system of slavery and
are killed by God during the plague of the death of the first born.
The intimidation of the Pharaoh is not replaced by a scarier
tyrant (despite the violent plagues). When God appointed a messenger to free
the Hebrews from this society, He did not recruit a warrior. Instead, He sent
Moses, a shepherd with a speech impediment.
The Hebrews were invited to reimagine the idea of the
first-born son when they were commanded to temporarily set aside such a child
as “holy to God”[vi],
until a ceremony when they are a month old called Pidyon Haben – “redeeming
the son”. When the Torah introduced this commandment, it did not reference the
father’s forcefulness; instead, the Torah highlights that the first born is the
one who “opened their mother’s womb”. The word for “womb” in Hebrew is rechem,
which is closely linked to the word for “mercy”, rachem, and to one of
the Jewish names of God, HaRachaman, “the Merciful One”. The first-born
child is met with boundless love by their mother, whose baby is her greatest
joy.
May we all orient our lives around love and mercy and see
these qualities prevail over violence and threats.
[i]
T.H. White, The Once and Future King
[ii]
Exodus 4:22-23, 11:4-5
[iii] David,
A, (2020) Drosh Darash Yosef, Mosad Harav Kook, Jerusalem, p 108.
[iv] See
Blidstein, G. J. who makes a similar point in Rabbi Soloveitchik’s Abraham, https://traditiononline.org/rabbi-soloveitchiks-abraham/
[v]
Genesis, 49:3, Deuteronomy 21:17
[vi]
Exodus 13:2, 12-16
I like the story of your gathering at Rookwood and your reflections on Moses and Pharaoh and the first born son. It would be interesting to see how this applies to the position of Ishmael vs Isaac.
ReplyDeleteIn a general sense, in the Torah, we find numerous first born sons being surpassed by their younger siblings. Isaac and Yishmael, Jacob and Esau, Reuben and Joseph.
ReplyDelete