This week, we begin the Book of Shemot (“Names”) with a story that feels remarkably relevant to our community right now.
The Torah introduces us to the story of the Hebrews’ eventual Exodus from Egypt through two extraordinary women: Shifrah and Puah, the Hebrew midwives. Pharaoh commands them to kill every Hebrew baby boy, but the Torah tells us that, “they [intentionally] kept the boys alive” (Exodus 1:17).
Think about what this means. These women had no army, no political power, no guarantee of success. They couldn't see the future. They didn't know that one of those babies would become Moses, the greatest leader our people would ever know. They simply made a choice, in a moment of darkness and uncertainty, to build life rather than destroy it. To invest in tomorrow even when today was terrifying.
In fact, the Midrash (rabbinic interpretation) teaches that Shifrah and Puah didn't just deliver babies, they nurtured them, made sure they survived, gave them a future. They played the long game when everyone else was focused on survival. And Gd rewarded them with batim (“houses”), dynasties that would endure for generations.
This past week, our community gathered for our Major Donors’ Dinner, where almost 200 of our community’s leaders had the privilege of hearing from Rabbi Daniel Cohen, author of What Will They Say About You When You Are Gone? Rabbi Cohen challenged the attendees to reverse-engineer our lives, to start from the end and work backward, living today with the purpose and passion that creates lasting legacy.
The message resonated deeply because we, like Shifrah and Puah, are building something in uncertain times. We're investing in security when anti-Semitism is rising. We're creating institutions when everything around us demands instant results. We're planting carob trees we may never see bear fruit, trusting that future generations will sit in their shade.
Later in our parshah, when Moses questions whether he's the right person to lead, Gd gives him a promise that has sustained our people through every exile, every persecution, every moment of doubt: "Ehyeh imach" ("I will be with you") (Exodus 3:12).
Not "I will make it easy." Not "I will guarantee success." Simply: "I will be with you."
That's the essence of hope. Not certainty. Not guarantees. Hope. Israel’s national anthem is called HaTikvah ("The Hope") because we've survived as a people by believing tomorrow can be better than today, even when today is impossibly hard.
The Jewish Federation institutionalizes that hope. We ask not "What does our community need today?" but "What will it need five, ten, twenty years from now?" Like Shifrah and Puah, we're investing in futures we may not live to see, building legacies that will outlast us.
This week's major donor event reminded us that we're not just supporters of an established community, we're founders and builders of something new. Every commitment made that evening plants another tree. Every gift ensures that future generations will say, "We are here because they chose patience over panic, legacy over instant gratification, hope over despair." May we all be blessed to build with courage, patience, and hope. Because we are Stronger Together!
For those interested in reading the full message
from the dinner remarks, please click <<here>>.
Shabbat Shalom,
|
|
