D'var Torah

This week's Torah portion is the second in the Book of Exodus. In Parashat Va'era God tells Moses that the time has come to free the Israelites from Egyptian bondage. Moses is told that he should go before Pharaoh to ask the Egyptian ruler to allow the Israelites to depart. Twice Moses responds by saying that Pharaoh will not listen and apologetically explains that, because of a speech impediment, he is not the right person to represent the Jewish people. God answers by declaring that Moses' brother, Aaron, will accompany him as the spokesman.
 
The two brothers appear before Pharaoh to request the freedom of their people, but Pharaoh refuses to liberate them.  Time and time again, Pharaoh "hardens his heart." As a consequence, terrible plagues are set upon Egypt. The waters of the Nile are bloodied; then the land is filled with frogs and swarms of insects; then there is the death of Egyptian livestock; and later there is destructive hail. These plagues are sent to punish Pharaoh and force him to free the Israelites.

We all know this story well. We re-tell it every year at our Seder tables. Most of the time we focus on the plagues and the long-awaited release of the Israelites. But for me, one phrase stands out in the story. That is the phrase "hardening the heart."  Twenty times in this and next week's parasha the phrase appears. Ten times in this portion relating to the first five plagues and ten times in next week's portion. It is interesting to note that this week Pharaoh hardens his own heart. But next week it will be God who hardens Pharaoh's heart.

What is the meaning of this phrase and how does it relate to us today?  To the Biblical mind, the heart is the locus for emotion. So to harden one's heart means to close it off to feelings. Ten times Pharaoh actively refuses to feel the pain and anguish of the Israelite people. He turns his back (and his heart) away from their suffering, and so he is able to say "no" to their freedom. Eventually, after doing this enough times, he is no longer in control of what his heart can feel. He has closed himself off so often, the door to his feelings is no longer able to be opened. My question always is...does this happen to us? Do we ever close ourselves off from the emotions, perhaps the suffering of friends, spouses, those in need we don't even know?  If we do this long enough, what will happen to our hearts? We all know a great deal about how to take care of our physical hearts, but do we take good care of our emotional hearts? Clearly, Pharaoh didn't, but surely we can do better.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Amy Schwartzman