This week’s parshah (reading from the Torah / Hebrew Bible) is Yitro. For those of you unfamiliar with the parshah, the climactic moment occurs when the Israelites receive Torah at Sinai--an important, and as written, over-the-top spectacle with major special effects.  I’d like to take a moment to highlight another teaching in the parshah.
 
Yitro, beloved father-in-law to Moses, mentors him and teaches Moses the importance of delegation. God, the divine parent, whose parenting techniques would shock most family psychologists, delivers the ten utterances (ten commandments). In this list of don’ts and do's G-d also delegates. How so? Through the fifth commandment:
 
Honor thy father and mother, such that your days on the land will be lengthened…
 
As such, I’d like to lift up my parents and some of their teachings and the ways in which they mentored me.
 
From my father:

1. Don’t do a half-hearted job
   
2. Be a gracious host and always make room for people to stay the night
   
3. Show up for your friends
   
4. Learn to be a great dancer (he is), and if you aren’t a good, dance anyway
   

 
From my mother, z”l (of blessed memory): 

1. Life is hard. Seek out the humor in every situation and hold onto it
   
2. Read everything you can get your hands on
3. Your spiritual wellbeing is as important as your physical wellbeing. Nurture it.
4. Take every chance you can to sing, even if you’re tone deaf (she was)

 
From them both:

1. Appearances matter. Take pride in how you look and dress…. Even on Zoom
2. Love the people in your life with all your being

 
I offer you these ten utterances of my parents and hope they’re meaningful. May we all be blessed with amazing mentors, today and every day.

In Parshah Beshalach many things happen. As the Israelites are fleeing Egypt Moses stops to get Joseph’s bones. We’re told that God guides them on a circuitous route, accompanying them in a cloud during the day and in a pillar of fire by night. The Sea of Reeds splits for the Israelites and drowns the Egyptians. There’s the song of the sea and Miriam’s timbrels. There’s water scarcity, bitter waters that become sweet, Manna falls from heaven and Shabbat is introduced. The Amalekites attack and the Israelites are victorious.
 
There’s a lot here and I’d like to focus on two moments related to memory. In Exodus 13:19, Moses stops to get Joseph’s bones. It states:
 
וַיִּקַּ֥ח משֶׁ֛ה אֶת־עַצְמ֥וֹת יוֹסֵ֖ף עִמּ֑וֹ כִּי֩ הַשְׁבֵּ֨עַ הִשְׁבִּ֜יעַ אֶת־בְּנֵ֤י יִשְׂרָאֵל֙ לֵאמֹ֔ר פָּקֹ֨ד יִפְקֹ֤ד אֱלֹהִים֙ אֶתְכֶ֔ם וְהַֽעֲלִיתֶ֧ם אֶת־עַצְמֹתַ֛י מִזֶּ֖ה אִתְּכֶֽם
 
Moses took Joseph's bones with him, for he [Joseph] had adjured the sons of Israel, saying, God will surely remember you, and you shall bring up my bones from here with you.
 
While God remembers the sons of Israel, how does Moses know he’s supposed to transport Joseph’s bones? How has this memory been passed down over 400 years of slavery to stay in Moses’s consciousness?
 
Later, at the very end of this parshah, after the war with Amalek, it says (Exodus: 17:14)
 
וַיֹּ֨אמֶר יְהֹוָ֜ה אֶל־ משֶׁ֗ה כְּתֹ֨ב זֹ֤את זִכָּרוֹן֙ בַּסֵּ֔פֶר וְשִׂ֖ים בְּאָזְנֵ֣י יְהוֹשֻׁ֑עַ כִּֽי־מָחֹ֤ה אֶמְחֶה֙ אֶת־זֵ֣כֶר עֲמָלֵ֔ק מִתַּ֖חַת הַשָּׁמָֽיִם:
 
The Lord said to Moses, Inscribe this [as] a memorial in the book, and recite it into Joshua's ears, that I will surely obliterate the remembrance of Amalek from beneath the heavens
 
This is the first part of the bookend about memory and Amalek that we get. The second part is given on Shabbat Zachor:
 
In Deuteuronomy 25:19
 
וְהָיָ֡ה בְּהָנִ֣יחַ יְהֹוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֶ֣יךָ | לְ֠ךָ֠ מִכָּל־אֹ֨יְבֶ֜יךָ מִסָּבִ֗יב בָּאָ֨רֶץ֙ אֲשֶׁ֣ר יְהֹוָה־אֱלֹהֶ֠יךָ נֹתֵ֨ן לְךָ֤ נַֽחֲלָה֙ לְרִשְׁתָּ֔הּ תִּמְחֶה֙ אֶת־זֵ֣כֶר * (זֶ֣כֶר) עֲמָלֵ֔ק מִתַּ֖חַת הַשָּׁמָ֑יִם לֹ֖א תִּשְׁכָּֽח:
 
[Therefore,] it will be, when the Lord your God grants you respite from all your enemies around [you] in the land which the Lord, your God, gives to you as an inheritance to possess, that you shall obliterate the remembrance of Amalek from beneath the heavens. You shall not forget!
 
Even with the many events and miracles that take place in the parshah, memory is a constant theme. Rabbi David Silber teaches that the sin of the Egyptians is “forgetting.” We begin Exodus when a new king arises in Egypt who doesn’t know Joseph. They haven’t passed on the memory of how Joseph saved Egypt through the famine and how through his governance Egypt became more rich and more powerful.
 
I would argue that when Pharoah’s heart is hardened, this equates to short-term memory loss. Each time Pharoah experiences the plagues he relents and decides to let the Israelites go. However, each time, as soon as relief is given, it’s as if, in Pharoah’s mind and memory, the plague didn’t occur. He lacks the ability to learn from the past.
 
In contrast, the Israelites also seem to experience memory loss. Time and time again, God performs miracles for them, freeing them from slavery, splitting the sea, giving them sustenance, and yet every time something goes wrong, they seem to forget how God has provided for them.
 
Pharoah’s memory loss is motivated by greed and want for power. The Israelites memory loss stems from the traumatic experience of enslavement.
 
Also in Parshah Beshalach, the Israelites receive Manna, God’s way of introducing them to Shabbat and to a day of rest wherein they don’t gather.
 
We light two Shabbat candles, representing Shamor v’Zachor – observance and memory. Parasha Beshalach teaches that these two concepts are connected. Without the ability to remember and to metabolize those memories one cannot truly observe. If we fail to honor and integrate the past, we become like Pharoah whose heart is hardened. However, when past memories and experiences are so traumatic that it prevents us from living in the present, that too becomes an obstacle to observance.
 
May all of us be blessed with the ability to remember – to learn from our past, while living fully in the present.
 
Shabbat Shalom.

On this tiyyul – the last full-day excursion of the T’ruah Year-in-Israel Program for rabbinical and cantorial students – we learned from feminist and political activist Galia Aviani about the historical events of Wadi Salib in Haifa. 

Wadi Salib was once a vibrant neighborhood and home to wealthy Palestinian families. Aviani shared a story from a former Jewish resident who grew up in one of the multi-family homes owned by a Palestinian family. She said that in Arab homes, gardens were planted in the courtyards between buildings. She remembers her childhood, growing up playing in the beautiful and magical gardens. In April of 1948, on the eve of Israel’s War of Independence, Palestinians fleeing violence left their homes and were later denied the right of return. 

After the Palestinian families fled, the Jews who remained tried to maintain the gardens, but lacked the knowledge to care for them properly. The gardens withered and died. 
After the war, the Israeli government placed newly arrived immigrants, mostly Mizrahi Jews from North Africa, in these homes. These Mizrahim faced discrimination from the already established Ashkenazi community and government. Few resources were allocated to their neighborhoods, and the once distinctive community of Wadi Salib became neglected and impoverished. Protests against this unequal treatment, including hunger strikes and demonstrations, culminated in a “revolt” in July of 1959 when police shot a local resident, Akiva Elkarif. Crucially, for me, these Jewish protests, including hunger strikes and demonstrations, were supported by Palestinians. 

Walking through the streets of Wadi Salib today, looking at the shells of the formerly grand Palestinian homes, I longed to witness a time when children played in verdant gardens. 

With development, these buildings and the history they represent will soon be gone, but it’s our responsibility to keep the memory of a past shared existence alive. 

We are told in Genesis 2:15, “God settled the human in the garden to till and to tend it.” 

The gardens of Wadi Salib represent a past when all residents, Jews and Palestinians, flourished. As humans put here by God, we are charged with tilling and tending the hope of a future wherein all people in the land live in equality and dignity.
 
As we prepare to receive the Torah anew, I pray that once again gardens may blossom for all those who live in this parched land.