|
Parshah Summary – P’shat
The parshah begins with last three of the Ten Plagues: a swarm of locusts devours all the crops and greenery; a thick darkness envelops the land; and on the 15th of the month of Nissan at midnight, all the firstborn of Egypt die.
The first specifically Jewish mitzvah is then given to the Children of Israel: to establish a calendar based on the monthly rebirth of the moon. The Israelites are also instructed to bring a “Passover offering” – a lamb or goat is to be slaughtered, and its blood sprinkled on the doorposts and lintel of every Israelite home, so that God should “pass over” (Pesakh) those homes when the plague of the firstborn takes place. The roasted meat of the offering is to be eaten that night together with matzah and bitter herbs. The death of the firstborn finally breaks Pharaoh’s resistance, and he drives the Children of Israel from his land. So hastily do they depart that there is no time for their dough to rise, hence the practice of eating matzah in commemoration of the Exodus. Before they go, they ask their Egyptian neighbors for gold, silver and garments—fulfilling the promise made to Abraham that his descendants would leave Egypt with great wealth. The Children of Israel are instructed to consecrate all firstborn, and to observe the anniversary of the Exodus each year by removing all hameitz, leaven, from their possession for seven days, eating matzah, and telling the story of their redemption to their children. They are also instructed to wear tefillin on the arm and head as a reminder of the Exodus and their commitment to God as the Power of Liberation…
Torah of Awakening | Jewish Meditation Teaching
וַיַּ֣עַל הָֽאַרְבֶּ֗ה עַ֚ל כָּל־אֶ֣רֶץ מִצְרַ֔יִם And the locusts came upon all the land of Egypt… - Shemot (Exodus) 10:14, Parshat Bo
Nowdays there are two popular horror images – Zombies and killer robots. Both cultural motifs – the undead as well as dangerous rogue machines – are so powerful not only because we are automating more and more of our external world with AI, but also because they point to a particular reality of our inner world as well: the world of unconscious impulses, desires, and passions.
Like most of our external automations, our desires are mostly useful. When we feel the impulse to breath, for example, we can generally trust that impulse. We don’t have to pay much attention to it; we can let it “take over” and dictate our next breath. However, when we swim under water, the impulse to breath can be deadly. In that case, we’ve got to be aware of the impulse and not succumb to it until we come up for air. Similarly, the impulse to eat is crucial to our survival. But if you work in a bakery and you’re surrounded by cake all day long, you might have to watch your impulse to eat. The same goes for many other impulses we have. The problem is not desire; desire serves our survival. The problem is unconsciousness of desire, of letting the desire take control, of becoming the victim of our desires. A good example of this are the many accidents we hear about nowadays with driverless cars: they could be helpful, but we shouldn’t lose our attentiveness completely; we still have to watch. All of this is true for anyone in ordinary situations. But for the aspirant who wants to become more conscious, attentiveness has a whole other dimension. It’s not merely for the sake of averting danger, it’s also for its own sake. Ordinarily, it is important to be aware of our breathing only if we are under water. But spiritually, it is beneficial to be aware of our breathing constantly, because it is through the deliberate cultivation of awareness that we come to know ourselves as awareness and thus become free in the spiritual sense, which really means free from feeling trapped by any experience. In fact, awareness of our impulse to breath or eat is itself a kind of breathing and eating; through awareness of our desires, awareness itself is deeply nourished. There is a hint of this in the parshah: וַיַּ֣עַל הָֽאַרְבֶּ֗ה עַ֚ל כָּל־אֶ֣רֶץ מִצְרַ֔יִם And the locusts came upon all the land of Egypt… (Shemot 10:14). Then is says: And they ate all the greenery of the land and all the fruits of the trees which the hail had left, so that nothing green was left of tree or grass of the field, in all the land of Egypt. These locusts are the embodiment of desire, consuming everything in their path. They are also insects, which are often considered to be disgusting by humans and generally unfit for eating: כֹּ֚ל שֶׁ֣רֶץ הָע֔וֹף הַהֹלֵ֖ךְ עַל־אַרְבַּ֑ע שֶׁ֥קֶץ ה֖וּא לָכֶֽם׃ – All winged swarming things that walk on fours shall be an abomination for you. (Leviticus 11:21) Insects are generally not kosher. And yet, when it comes to locusts, the taboo against eating insects no longer applies: …אַ֤ךְ אֶת־זֶה֙ תֹּֽאכְל֔וּ מִכֹּל֙ שֶׁ֣רֶץ הָע֔וֹף הַהֹלֵ֖ךְ עַל־אַרְבַּ֑ע אֶת־הָֽאַרְבֶּ֣ה– But this you shall eat from all winged swarming things that walk on fours… the locust! (Leviticus 11:22) The locust, the symbol of desire and consumption, is good to consume! The hidden message here is that we must “eat” our “eating” – we must “feed” our consciousness by being present with our impulses and desires. How do we do that? בֹּ֖א אֶל־פַּרְעֹ֑ה Bo el Paro – Come to Pharaoh means that the Divine is within Pharaoh, beckoning us to “come” – meaning, to bring awareness to the feeling of the impulse in order to reclaim the consciousness trapped within it. הִכְבַּ֤דְתִּי אֶת־לִבּוֹ֙ – I have hardened his heart… The “hardness” of our impulses is not merely for keeping us alive. Its deeper purpose is to give our consciousness something to wrestle with, so that it may be strengthened and thus awaken to its full potential. That is the greatest miracle – the miracle of coming to know what we truly are – alive, spacious and free לְמַ֗עַן שִׁתִ֛י אֹתֹתַ֥י אֵ֖לֶּה בְּקִרְבּֽוֹ – so that I may place My signs among them… What are these signs? In the plain meaning, they are the ten plagues that will show everyone that God is in charge. But the word for sign is ot, which is also the word for “letter,” and each of the Hebrew letters represents a certain quality of consciousness – for example, aleph is openness to feeling fully, bet is hospitality, and so on. When a person embodies these qualities in their actions, their actions become outward “signs” for these inner spiritual realities. Interestingly, the last letter of the aleph-bet, ת tav, also means “sign.” Tav is connected with the quality of אֶמֶת emet, “Truth,” hinting that this final letter tav is the “sign,” or “testimony” of all the preceding letters. In other words, tav represents our ability to embody the spiritual qualities in the way that we live, moment to moment. This is the culmination of all our learning and practice, all our Torah and meditation: the quality of our actions. How do we grow in the quality of our actions? There is an essential ingredient: self-awareness. We must be in touch with the truth of our experience, not resist or be in denial, if we wish to grow in our ability to embody all the middot (spiritual qualities) in our lives, moment to moment, in real time. This is the ultimate fruit of meditation.
Read past teachings on Bo HERE
Learn Integral Jewish Meditation
Get Free Guided Meditation Below:
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Free Integral Jewish Meditation Instructional Recordings Here.
Daily Meditation on Zoom: Experience our growing community Here Archives
February 2026
|

RSS Feed