This week Torah takes us back to Egypt at the start of the plagues. We watch the water of the Nile turn to blood; frogs fill the land; lice and insect swarms attack the people; an epidemic kills the livestock; the people’s infected insect bites turn to boils, and thunder and lightning fill the skies as hail rains down on the Egyptians.
From our vantage point, we also see that each plague scares Pharaoh just a bit; he momentarily relents and says that the Israelites can leave. With trust in humankind Moses asks G-d to remove the plague. It is done and Pharaoh changes his mind and recants his offer for Moses and the people to leave.
Whether it is that Pharaoh immediately forgets the level of pain just endured and imagines that being without slaves will hurt far worse or that he was so hard hearted that he did not care about the pain of others, including his own people, we do not know. All we know is that he kept recanting and the plagues continued.
Cardiologists tell us that hardened hearts cannot pump blood effectively. We cannot breathe well, move well, or think well without adequate continual blood flow since our blood carries oxygen and needed nutrients across our body as it also removes toxins. Hardened hearts are more prone to breakage and failure. We must care for our bodies to ensure our hearts do not harden.
Psychologists and spiritual guides remind us that a hardened heart cannot truly be open to the thoughts, feelings, and intents of others. Our eyes may see and our ears may hear, but it is our hearts that absorb. When a heart is hardened the input slides right off. We might momentarily act differently, yet these moments of compassion are gone in an instant.
In our morning liturgy we recite Asher Yatzar, expressing gratitude for our bodies as remind ourselves of the need for a healthy lifestyle. Our prayers also include Ahavah Rabah, which is said before we say the Sh’ma. We thank G-d for loving the Jewish people enough to have given us Torah. We ask G-d to open our eyes, to help us understand and to open our hearts to the joy of living as part of a kehillah kadoshah – a caring, sacred community.
A soft heart can open to allow new ideas in. Then, just like our blood, the ideas can flow through us, filling our minds with new input to consider and, perhaps, leading our body to changed actions.
Pharaoh saw the plagues and suffering and heard the cries of pain, yet his stiff heart just did not allow the information to penetrate and guide his decisions and actions. Again and again, the pain was seen, heard and then slid right away before any long-lasting change in feelings could lead to permanent change in action.
How can we be different? We cannot respond to every need or our hearts and pocketbooks would burst. Yet, do we do enough? Do we give as we live? Do we listen and carefully consider new and different ideas or are we so used to moving through our days in certain ways that new ideas are ignored or perhaps given a half-hearted “go ahead and try” with full expectation of failure? Do we invest time to care for our health so our hearts do not physically harden and invest in relationships and compassionate efforts that keep our spiritual hearts soft and healthy?
May we learn from Pharaoh’s actions, choosing instead to do the work that keeps our hearts supple, allowing for a strong flow of blood, compassion for others, and thoughtful consideration of new ideas.
Open up our eyes; teach us how to live; fill our hearts with joy and all the love You have to give.
Gather us in peace as You lead us to Your name; and we will know that You are One.
- May My (and Your) Yom Kippur Be Filled Meaning - October 3, 2014
- We All Are Standing Here.. Now What Will You Do? - September 19, 2014
- ‘Tis the Season of Transitions - September 12, 2014