a palpable darkness

This week previews the undoing of creation.

In the beginning, the Torah asserts, the world was tohu va’vohu - vacuous and chaotic, teeming with possibility and lacking order. 

The creation story that begins with the famous words “let there be light,” includes six days of creation and culminates in a dynamic pause known as Shabbat, is well known to many of us.

What many of us (self included until this week!) may not realize is that the story of the 10 plagues, which concludes in this week’s parsha Bo, is not just a story of escalating tactics, it is a paradigm for the unraveling of creation itself. 

One of God’s very first acts is to separate the waters above from the waters below. And in the very first plague water becomes blood. Just as the God creates animals to fill the land and the sea, the second, third and fourth plagues send forth an overabundance of those very animals that teem in the water (frogs), on land (lice), and in the sky (locusts), to plague the people. And unspeakably, whereas God creates humans on the 6th day, God takes the first born Egyptians. The parallels are eerie. 

The plagues were temporary, deliberate and Divinely ordained. The fact that they threaten to return to the world to pre-creation chaos tells us something of what was at stake in Moses’ mission to free the Israelite slaves. 

But the full impact of this destructive paradigm hit me when I got to the ninth plague, the plague of darkness, whose description brought my studies to a halt: 

וַיֹּ֨אמֶר יְהֹוָ֜ה אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֗ה נְטֵ֤ה יָֽדְךָ֙ עַל־הַשָּׁמַ֔יִם וִ֥יהִי חֹ֖שֶׁךְ עַל־אֶ֣רֶץ מִצְרָ֑יִם וְיָמֵ֖שׁ חֹֽשֶׁךְ׃

The Holy One said to Moshe:
Stretch out your hand toward the heavens,
and let there be darkness over the land of Egypt,
so that they will feel darkness! (Exodus 10:21)

The declaration “And let there be darkness” is an exact undoing of the very first seminal words of creation, “Let there be light!” How could anyone, let alone the Holy One, instruct Moses to say “Let there be darkness”?


And not just darkness, but a palpable darkness. A darkness that they can feel and touch (וְיָמֵ֖שׁ חֹֽשֶׁךְ׃). A darkness that Ibn Ezra explains was so thick that it made time stand still for the Egyptians, quoting, “The Egyptians had no way of knowing that three days passed except through the Israelites, who had light.” 

This week has felt like a series of plagues cast upon us, each executive order revealing the newest threat to our well being. We are experiencing a deliberate and expedient unraveling of our already imperfect government, which has created an air of fear and uncertainty. I imagine some of us feel more personally vulnerable than others. But I imagine many, if not most of us, are experiencing this time as scary and destabilizing. And I think that is one of this administration’s goals. 

But one of our goals is to allow our spirits and our nervous systems to recover from the stress of the week. To reclaim time and allow it to stand still on our terms. Forever and ever, I choose the world of “Yehi Or - Let there be light.” 

Before the sun sets on this week, I invite you to return your attention to the world of creation. To trees and pets and neighbors, and all the wonderful things that bring order and joy to your life. 
​
To invite in the blessings of the new moon of Shevat whose tiny crescent light is waxing in the shabbos sky. To invite in the light of shabbat candles and the deeply needed rest of the 7th day. ​