Nevo, never thought I would see it . . . this way.
I was able to see some dear friends and make a few new acquaintances or two. Robyn and I were able to reconnect with two of our children as they travelled with us in Jordan, and we were able to see a side of the world that they may not have been able to see otherwise.
Personally, I am grateful that I was able to explain some of the things we were able to see, either through my eyes, or through the eyes of the Tradition, much of which our kids were able to understand in a thoughtful way. Talia was amazing with the Jordanian camels and equally interested in what happened to the Nabateans, especially since ‘we’ were able to survive, so why weren’t “they”? To her I responded, maybe it’s because they didn’t have an “Egypt” in their lives.
I was equally glad that I was able to see the Land from the spot that Moses gazed out from, a “Land” that he was unable to cross over to. In that moment, I did feel a pang of sorrow for Moses, who had spent the better part of a lifetime as a shepherd, but whose flock, as he got older, continued on, without him. That being said, I am personally grateful that we remember him and still read from a Book we have named for him. I think my kids got that, which in turn made this journey a little more meaningful for me. And equally, I hope for the Jewish People as well, especially since now, as we enter the second quarter of the 21st Century. Given where we have been, who would have thought it possible? I sense that it is going to be a long haul ahead. Equally, my sense is that it has always been so.
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In Egypt and in this week’s Parsha (Chapter Ex 7:1), it appears as if God makes Moses into something like a god . . . .
The way that the Torah sees it, Gd does not make Moses a literal god, but grants him divine authority such that, at least in Pharaoh’s eyes, Moses will function as Gd’s representative.
Why would Gd send back into Egypt a runaway shepherd? Compounding this question, why send Moses, a failed royal, who was also a lapsed Jew, and one who was seemingly unable to see the Jews still in Egypt as his own people?
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On the flip side of things (on the other side of the Nile:
This also becomes a challenge to Egyptian Theology
This scene is a direct theological provocation.
Egyptian worldview:
Pharaoh is divine or semi-divine
He is the mediator between gods and people
Power flows downward from Pharaoh to Egypt
Here, Gd sends in a shepherd, not a king
Additionally causing Pharaoh to answer to a human representative of Gd
And turns Pharaoh into the one who must listen, not command
Even more pointed:
Moses stands as a god to Pharaoh
Pharaoh is demoted from a god to a subject
Israelite Worldview:
Each plague reinforces this: Nile (life) → blood. Sun (Ra) → darkness. Firstborn (divine lineage) → death
The message isn’t just political—it’s a theological polemic, and it is purposeful.
Egypt’s gods are not rival gods. As a result, they are exposed as powerless.
And for the record, it was Egypt that came to serve Gd’s purposes; and it was always understood this way.
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And now, for an American update . . . . an update that surprises no one, and yet disappoints practically everyone.
The Jewish World of 2026: “Apres Les Deluge”
The Current Word on the Jewish Street
The first two weeks of 2026 have made clear that security and combating antisemitism will remain top priorities for American Jewry for the coming year, despite the hopes “of many” to focus communal attention elsewhere after more than two years of post-Oct. 7 crisis mode.
After last month’s deadly terror shooting on Bondi Beach in Sydney, Australia, the American Jewish community was shocked by an arson attack on Jackson, Miss.’s Beth Israel Congregation over the weekend, which was followed — unrelatedly but almost immediately — by the vandalism of a Los Angeles synagogue that had burned down the year before in the city’s wildfires.
Emblematic of the challenges facing the American Jewish community and of the so-called “horseshoe theory” of antisemitism, these two attacks on synagogues appear to come from either extreme of the political spectrum. Based on his admission to federal agents, the Jackson arsonist was motivated by so-called “classical antisemitism,” referring to Beth Israel as a “synagogue of Satan.” The perpetrator or perpetrators that vandalized the burnt remains of the Pasadena Jewish Temple and Center, who have yet to be caught, appear to come from the opposite side of the political map, painting “F— Zionism” on an exterior wall, along with — bafflingly, as the synagogue’s president described it to The New York Times — “RIP Renee,” in reference to Renee Good, who was killed last week by an ICE agent. On top of these acts of vandalism, last week also saw anti-Israel protesters openly praising Hamas outside a synagogue in Queens.
This all contributes to a growing and understandable bunker mentality in the Jewish community, one that comes at a cost, both in resources and bandwidth. In the wake of the Oct. 7 terror attacks in Israel and the rise in antisemitism around the world that followed, Jewish donors and the communal groups that they fund reordered their priorities, which has resulted in a boom for some organizations — particularly those focused on aid and recovery in Israel, combating antisemitism and Jewish education — and in a bust for others, such as those focusing on diversity and equity, Jewish culture and international development.
With the release of all of the Israeli hostages but one and the war in Gaza largely winding down toward the end of last year, there appeared to be a hope on the horizon that the Jewish world would again be able to allocate resources to what were largely seen as “nice to haves.” Heading into 2026, this seems less likely.
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We crossed over to Israel via the Allenby Bridge . . . that in and of itself was fascinating crossing and yes, it reminded me of Rabbi Nachman’s well known adage . . . .
Kol HaOlam Kulo, Gesher Tsar Me’od, v’Haikar He, lo Lifached —
The whole world is a very narrow bridge, and the most important thing is not to be afraid.
We live — We thrive . . .
