This week we begin reading the book of Exodus/Shemot, which initiates the great story of the liberation from slavery in Egypt. In the first chapters of the book, the verb to “see” is repeated numerous times. When Moses is born, his mother “sees” how beautiful he is, and decides to save him from Pharaoh’s decree to murder all newborn Israelite boys. She puts him in the Nile in a little basket, and as it floats downstream, Pharaoh’s daughter “sees” the basket, and sends her handmaid to fetch it. When she looks inside, she “sees” a crying baby. She realizes it is a Hebrew child and, defying her father’s orders, has compassion on him and raises him as her own son.
When Moses grows up, he goes out of the palace and “sees” the suffering of his Hebrew kinfolk, and then “sees” an Egyptian taskmaster beating one of the slaves. Moses strikes and kills the Egyptian, which prompts his flight from Egypt. At the end of this chapter, as the Israelites cry out from their bondage, God “sees” their suffering, and the events of the Exodus are set in motion. Finally, many years later, Moses “sees” a bush aflame in the desert, on fire yet not consumed, and stops to look more closely. This is the moment that he has his first encounter with God, and learns of his mission to return to Egypt and lead the Israelites to freedom.
It is interesting to reflect on the role of “seeing”—in the sense of noticing, paying attention to, becoming aware of—in our story of liberation. As I reflect on the difficult moment we are in today, there is so much that demands our attention, and it can be challenging to know where to look. I am aware that how we respond to current events is very much a matter of “seeing”—of having our attention focused, for example, on the suffering of Israelis or on the suffering of Palestinians; on rising antisemitism or on assaults on diversity, equity and inclusion; on events far away or on homegrown horrors like recent mass shootings here in the U.S. None of these "seeings" are mutually exclusive, of course, but there are limits on how and what we are able to take in.
What I appreciate about our Torah portion is that the “seeing” encompasses both suffering and possibility. Moses’ mother Yocheved sees a beautiful baby boy, and knows she has to do all she can to save him. Pharaoh’s daughter sees an innocent child, and her heart is so moved by his cry that she takes him in. Both God and Moses “see” the suffering of the Israelites and are moved to act. And ultimately, at the burning bush, Moses becomes aware of a Power in the universe that is calling to him, challenging him to take on the massive project of leading a people to redemption.
As we gaze upon the suffering both within us and around us, perhaps we too can learn to link our “seeing” to the possibility of transformation. When the reality we “see” is painful, can we remember that our awareness is in the service of liberation? Can we allow our seeing to not lead us down a path of constriction and fear? The writer and activist adrienne marie brown writes, “what we pay attention to grows.” That is, it is important that we gaze not only on suffering, but also pay attention to the many people doing the work of peace and justice, whether in our own circles or in places far away. We are invited to make our “seeing” both expansive and compassionate, in service to the great Power of Becoming that Moses first encountered at the burning bush.
As we gaze upon our Shabbat candles this evening, may we “see” the possibility of transformation in the flames, and in our own hearts.
