Rabbi Elliot Cosgrove
January 27, 2007

What is the greatest miracle of the Exodus story?  The splitting of the Sea, the ten plagues, Moses’ meteoric rise to leadership, the people listening?  Perhaps the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart?  So many miracles, critical pivot points when God reversed the course of nature to achieve the desired Divine effect. Maybe it is that the entire Exodus happened precisely at midnight.  I have been to a lot of Jewish functions, but I have never known them to begin or end with the precision of the Exodus from Egypt.

It struck me, that tucked away within our parsha there exists a miracle that receives little attention, and, may take a bit of convincing on my part.  The miracle…that the Israelites did not leave Egypt empty handed.  The text states:

The Israelites had done Moses’ bidding and borrowed from the Egyptians objects of silver and gold and clothing.  And the Lord had disposed the Egyptians favorably towards the people, and they let them have their request: thus they stripped the Egyptians. (Exodus12:35-36)

The text makes clear and we know it to be true as the Israelites went on to build the Golden calf, the desert tabernacle and otherwise, that though the Israelites didn’t have the time to bake bread, they did leave overflowing with spoils in their hands.  So why, you may ask, is this a miracle?  If anything, it seems like a natural extension of the plagues. The Egyptians being so shocked, so anxious that the slaves would leave, that they did what was completely natural, they gave over their possessions willingly and generously.
   
My answer is two fold.  First textual, it is a miracle, first and foremost because God declared it so.  The close reader will notice that earlier in the parsha God had foreshadowed that the Egyptians would be predisposed towards the Israelites.  In fact, at the very first meeting between Moses and God at the Burning Bush, God assures Moses that God will turn the Egyptians favorably to the Israelites so they do not go empty handed.  And some of you will recall that as far back as Abram, when the enslavement of the Israelites was foretold, God tells Abram that the redemption of his descendents from slavery they would go forth with great substance.  The laws of nature were not just contravened with the hardening of Pharoah’s heart.  God also contravened the laws of nature when God turned the Egyptians hearts kindly towards their slaves, bestowing upon them the spoils of the land.  The miracle was foretold and it came to be.

But I want to tell you the real reason why it is the greatest miracle.  It is the greatest miracle, because for an immigrant community to leave a land with riches in hand is such an exceptional circumstance, that it insists on God’s guiding hand.  Plagues come and go, hail happens, waters dry up and even hearts harden, but to the best of my knowledge, immigrant communities do not leave their land of origin with the fat of the land in tow. 

The Exodus from Egypt may have been the first and the greatest Jewish migration, but it was far from the last.  And though every immigrant story differs in its particulars and circumstances, stories of mass migration almost always share a common thread.  When you leave a country, you give up everything.  When you arrive, you have nothing.  That the Israelites kept everything was nothing less than miraculous.

I want to share a passage from the writing of Zalman Yoffeh, taken from Irving Howe’s famous book “How We Lived,” a documentary history of the immigrant experience in America.  You can hear the description of the desperation that gripped the life of these Lower East side immigrants and their children. Zalman writes:

With…one dollar a day [our mother] fed and clothed an ever-growing family.  She took in boarders.  Sometimes this helped; at other times it added to the burden of living.  Boarders were often out of work and penniless; how could one turn a hungry man out? She made all our clothes.  She walked blocks to reach a place where meat was a penny cheaper, where bread was a half cent less.  She collected boxes and old wood to burn in the stove instead of costly coal.  Her hands became hardened and the lines so begrimed that for years she never had perfectly clean hands.  One by one she lost her teeth-they had no money for dentists-and her cheeks caved in.  Yet we children always had clean and whole clothing.  There was always bread and butter in the house, and, wonder of wonders, there was usually a penny apiece for us to buy candy with.  On a dollar and a quarter we would have lived in luxury. (Howe, p. 43)

There are so many stories and testimonies like this one.  Howe’s book, or better yet the famous “Bintel Brief” records the heavy hearted experiences of the immigrant community.

Or take for instance only a few generations later, refugees who leave a country fleeing persecution.  Just this week I was doing research on Rabbi Alexander Altmann the mentor of my doctoral subject. I discovered that in August of 1938, Alexander Altmann, served as a prominent rabbinical leader in Berlin.  The Nazi regime was moving fast to dismantle the last vestiges of Jewish communal life, paving the way to Auschwitz.   As Altmann worked late one night, the Gestapo arrived at his home looking for him, looking to round him up along with other leaders.  Thank God he was not home.  His wife was able to get word to him. Altmann never went home, he boarded a train to Holland, narrowly escaping the clutches of death. He was able to live to see another day; he left with nothing but the clothes he was wearing. 

Alternatively, just take a second to ask Hazzan Mizrahi about his father, who was being taken from Auschwitz in the final days of the war to be killed and jumped off a train into the snow, his life was saved as a displaced person.  Repatriated, but with nothing in hand. 

Inevitably these stories are personal stories, they are our stories.  You, Aaron, are named after your great-great-grandfather Nachman who died at 100 while your mother was pregnant with you.   He walked from the Ukraine to Holland when he was 12, your age. He was turned away at Ellis Island for being too young, but tried again at 13 and got in. 

For those of us who know our family histories, we know these stories are not in textbooks but they are in our blood.  And, of course not only are they in our blood, but they are in the room.  Our community, this room holds members of the Jewish community from the Former Soviet Union.  The first wave of immigration peaked in 1979, and the second wave which began in the late 80’s has brought more than 140,000 Jews to America.   Here in the larger Chicago area over 30,000 refugees arrived.  I speak on behalf of all the clergy and staff and lay leadership of Anshe Emet, when I say that Anshe Emet takes extraordinary pride in being a gathering place for a Jewish community reconstituting itself on a new land.

And, whether it is your great-grandparents or you, whether it is Hungarian Jewry in the 50’s, Moroccan Jewry in the 60’s, Iranian Jewry in the late 1970’s, Cuban Jewry, Soviet Jewry, Argentinean Jewry, or as I understand it, the increasingly precarious condition of Venezuelan Jewry, each experience is linked by the same recurring circumstances.  When you leave, you leave with nothing.  And when you arrive, you arrive with less than nothing.  Because when one left the FSU, one was often required to give up citizenship, to become stateless and disconnected, a people without a homeland.  One could leave with only two suitcases.  The loss is not merely of physical possessions, but the loss is one of identity, of professional status, of the social networks that we all rely on to make our lives, our lives.  The simple truth of the immigrant experience, both sad and uplifting, is that immigrants may leave to better their own lot, but it is actually children who fully reap the rewards of the parents sacrifices.

And with each wave of immigration, as Jews we have always responded.  Our teachings of Piddyon Shevuyim (Redeeming Captives), Hiddur Pnai Zakken (Respect for the elderly), Chesed (Kindness) and Hachnassat Orchim (Hospitality), have always insisted on a compassionate and proactive response to the problems of refugees and the elderly.  There are extraordinary organizations that speak to the values of our tradition, perhaps most importantly: “Kol Yisrael Arevim Ze bazeh.” (All Jews are responsible one for the other).  Organizations like the Council of Jewish Elderly that provides important services, housing, and resources to the elderly community.  Project Ezra, whose mission it is to be sure that we know that the real metric of the strength of a community is found in how it treats the elderly.  Perhaps most of all is HIAS, the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society.   At every step of the immigrant experience, for over 125 years HIAS has resettled immigrants to new lands, here, Israel, Jews and non-Jews. They were there for Aaron’s family, they were there for the Hazzan’s family, they were there for many of our families helping people rebuild their lives.

Their work is as needed as ever and they are deserving of your support philanthropically, as volunteers and as advocates.  As Americans and Jews, there are issues right now on the docket of our community which deserve our attention.  The CJE, HIAS and JUF are working hard to extend the Supplemental Security Income (SSI), the loss of which affects Jews from the Soviet Union more than any other refugee group.  The SSI provides monthly income support to meet the most needs of low income individuals. 

And so too housing.  The CJE and JUF office of governmental affairs is rightfully pushing to sustain and increase the number of units of affordable senior housing.  We need to work creatively and effectively to give the owners incentives to renew these units of affordable senior housing.   We need to let our officials know that the Jewish community cares deeply about these issues.  We can do this, as soon as Wednesday night at the 46th Ward Aldermanic forum, a block away at the Disney school.  Many of the contracts of the section eight senior units are up or coming up for renewal and in many ways, the next Alderman can set the tone for sustaining these low cost housing options which so many of our congregants depend on.  As American Jews we are doubly blessed to have the opportunity to let our highest Jewish values find expression in our highest ideals as Americans.  These values so dear to us should extend beyond the walls of this building, certainly into our neighborhood and perhaps even further.

There are a million issues out there when it comes to how our country receives the immigrant community and many good people have honest disagreements about some of them.  But if there is one element linking who we are biblically, historically and presently, it is that we were once strangers in a strange land.  It’s not just that we appreciate the immigrant experience - many of us are the immigrant experience, and because of that it is incumbent upon us to seek to address, in concrete ways, as Jews and as Americans, the manifestations of the losses that any immigrant community endures.  I am reminded of the commotion which was produced when Oliver Twist came and asked for “more.”  He said “more” because he did not know how to express it; what Oliver Twist really meant was this: “Will you just give me that normal portion which is necessary for a boy of my age to be able to live.”  What we face today, is not a matter of asking for more.  We are merely advocating what is necessary for an immigrant to live, to live with dignity, with an income and without fear.

Two weeks ago, many of us had the honor of hearing from Rabbi David Saperstein for a social justice weekend.  The weekend’s theme was “Being the Hands of God.” The meaning of the phrase was never explicitly stated, so let me conclude by saying it clearly.  It is in God’s power, God’s Hands, to bring about extraordinary miracles.  God brings mannah to the hungry, heals to the sick, renders peace to the war stricken and yes, sustenance to the immigrant refugee.  These are all miracles, miracles performed by God, but not limited only to God.  We too have the ability to be the “Hands of God,” we too have the ability to make God’s will present on this earth, to give to and fight on behalf of those who are our predecessors, our friends and the strangers in our midst.   If we are bold enough we can reach up and pull the heavens down, we can reach within ourselves, we can reach out to each other and together, we can be Gods Hands and make miracles happen here on earth.