Yair Robinson

Bo 2025

One of my favorite movies of all times is Kevin Smith’s “Clerks.” VERY loosely based on the Inferno, the film explores the lives of two friends, Dante and Randal, who navigate their own lives and challenges while working a couple of dead-end retail jobs (Dante at a convenience store, Randal at the video rental store next door), all while reflecting on philosophy, Star Wars, and what it means to be alive. That it came out at a seminal time in my life, when I and my friends were also working various dead-end retail jobs and having similarly absurd experiences as the two characters, and were also trying to figure it all out, is probably a big part of my appreciation. The Star Wars discussions certainly help as well. Dante’s primary lament is, “I wasn’t even supposed to be here today,” as he got called in in his day off. It is a complaint about working on a day off, but it is also an expression of his disorientation and confusion: where is he supposed to be? Who is he supposed to be? Meanwhile, Randal is simply happy to be there, slinging sarcastic one-liners but also calling Dante to account for his solipsism.

I feel like, in this moment, Dante’s disorientation, that sense that ‘we’re not supposed to be here today’, feels pretty relatable. First, we literally weren’t supposed to be here today. We were supposed to be at Federation Shabbat, but the division within the community, along with a bunch of technical issues, prevented us from coming together. In addition, there’s a strong sense of ‘here we are again’ in this moment of history, along for the ride, with the floor dropped out from below us, trying to help where we can, do what we can, trying not to doom scroll but at the same time wanting to stay informed. And throughout, we each have friends who seem like Randal: unbothered or even happy about the current political turn of events, with whom many of us would find ourselves disagreeing profoundly. Or perhaps there are those here who feel like Randal and are looking at the Dantes in your life wondering what their deal is, and why they’re acting the way they are.

One of the great challenges of the last quarter century is that we seem to have gotten further and further apart from one another, unwilling or unable to really hear or appreciate each other. Blame it on Cable news or social media, or partisanship, or tribalism, but we look at those with whom we disagree as the enemy, as undermining the fabric of America, and our friendships and relationships suffer. This is true about our current politics, it was true last year about Israel, and, sadly, it will continue to be true. What can we do about it?

In our Torah portion, as we just heard, God tells Moses to come to Pharaoh. I know the translation says ‘go,’ but that is not the Hebrew. The Hebrew says, “Bo,” come. That’s even the name of the parsha. Rabbi Nancy Weschler, in her commentary on the portion, suggests that one ‘goes’ away from someone but ‘comes’ toward someone. God’s command to ‘come’ to Pharaoh suggests that God is present there, with the King of Egypt. God is there to make Pharaoh’s heart heavy. The word for heavy in this case is kavod, which is also the word we use for ‘honor.’ What does it mean for Moses to come to Pharaoh in this moment of heaviness/honor? What is the text suggesting?

It seems to me that at least one suggestion by the text is that sometimes we are the ones who must step forward, to approach. Sometimes that stepping forward is to confront the evil we may see in the world, as well as the people participating in that evil, to have a moment of loving—and I do mean loving—rebuke, where we try to correct their actions. And sometimes we approach to recognize the heaviness of the moment, and to honor the other, to be able to say, “I don’t agree with you, and maybe we cannot come to agreement, but we can still find a way to be there for one another, to support one another perhaps in spite of our differences.” In our biblical text, Pharaoh and Moses are not able to reconcile; it is, perhaps, impossible, given the level of injustice. But that doesn’t mean we have to reject those we love despite our differences. Truly, coming forward, being the one to approach, is difficult, whether we are acting prophetically or lovingly. We may feel with all our might that this is not meant for us, that we’re not even supposed to be here today, not supposed to be in this position. Nevertheless, God invites us to take the first step, to offer the open hand, even and perhaps especially because it is difficult. And who knows? Maybe a Star Wars reference will help lighten the mood. Regardless, at this moment, with so much work that needs to be done for healing and repairing our world, let us not be the one who waits for the other, or puts up roadblocks to reconciliation. The text continues to say that this happens that we may tell our children and grandchildren about what God has done. Similarly, may we come forward so that it can be said of us by our descendants that we did everything we could to heal the breach, be it in our families or our community. Maybe we were not supposed to be here today, but let us make the most of it, and be here together. Amen.