Bo - Speak to Me
Redemption and inclusion begin with an expressive voice and the freedom of speech.
First, I would like to thank everyone who planned and signed up for our wonderful community dinner tonight. We have over 100 sign-ups!! I would also like to acknowledge our dinner sponsors: Ellen Geller, Rachel Glyn, Miriam and Bruce Taubman, David and Michelle Margulies, me and Miriam, Zev Guttman, the Frisch Family, and at least eight anonymous sponsors. Thank you so much!
Holding this dinner on the cusp of February is especially fitting, as February marks Jewish Disability Awareness, Acceptance, and Inclusion Month (JDAIM). A vital part of making events like our Mekor dinner meaningful is ensuring the inclusion of all who wish to participate.
When our diverse voices come together in communal expressions of prayer as they do tonight, our words become our most powerful tool. Whether we are praying in times of difficulty—like we continue to do for the hostages—or complete geula (redemption), speech is what unites us. The words we use in prayer, the Torah we study, and the conversations we share strengthen us and shape our future.
We learn this from our forefather Yaakov, who, on his deathbed, declared:
אֲשֶׁר לָקַחְתִּי מִיַּד הָאֱמֹרִי בְּחַרְבִּי וּבְקַשְׁתִּי
…which I took from the hand of the Amorites with my sword and my bow. (Bereishit 48:22)
But Chazal teach us (Bava Batra 123a) that this does not refer to physical weapons. Instead, Yaakov’s true weapons were his words—his chochma, wisdom, referring to his Torah, and tefilla, his prayer.
And so it is for us. Our strength is in our speech—the Torah we learn, the prayers we offer, the voices we raise together. These are our tools for transformation, for connection, and ultimately, for geula/redemption.
It is no coincidence that the Exodus story contains so many references to speech:
וּלְמַעַן תְּסַפֵּר בְּאָזְנֵי בִנְךָ וּבֶן בִּנְךָ אֵת אֲשֶׁר הִתְעַלַּלְתִּי בְּמִצְרַיִם וְאֶת אֹתֹתַי אֲשֶׁר שַׂמְתִּי בָם וִידַעְתֶּם כִּי אֲנִי ה
So that you may tell in the ears of your child and grandchild how I toyed with Egypt and about My miracles that I performed among them, and you will know that I am Hashem. (Shemot 10:2)
וַאֲמַרְתֶּם זֶבַח פֶּסַח הוּא לַה
You shall say, it is a Passover offering to Hashem… (Shemot 12:27)
וְהִגַּדְתָּ לְבִנְךָ בַּיּוֹם הַהוּא לֵאמֹר בַּעֲבוּר זֶה עָשָׂה ה' לִי בְּצֵאתִי מִמִּצְרָיִם
You must declare to your child on that day, ‘It is because of this that Hashem did all of this for me during my Exodus from Egypt. (Shemot 13:8)
וְאָמַרְתָּ אֶל בִּנְךָ חָזָק יָד הוֹצִיאָנוּ ה' מִמִּצְרַיִם מִבֵּית עֲבָדִים
You shall say to your child, ‘With a strong hand, Hashem took us out of Egypt, from the house of slavery. (Shemot 13:14)
Moreover, our seder guidebook is called the Haggadah—literally meaning "the act of telling, relating, or declaring."
The Exodus story and the Haggadah repeatedly emphasize the power of speech but not necessarily in the ways we expect:
For example, when Moshe is first called by God, he protests that he cannot lead the mission of redemption due to his speech impediment. He demurs, saying:
"לֹא אִישׁ דְּבָרִים אָנֹכִי"
"I am not a man of words." (Shemot 4:10)
Another example is matzah, the humble food we eat to commemorate our liberation. It’s called the "poor man’s bread" (lechem oni - לֶחֶם עֹנִי), but the word oni (עֹנִי) also means "answer."
The Gemara in Mesechet Pesachim 115b exalts the status of matzah by teaching that it is ‘lechem sheonim alav devarim harbei” "the bread over which we answer many things"— a symbol of speech.
Even the name of the holiday, Pesach (פֶּסַח), can be divided into Peh Sach (פֶּה סָח), meaning "a talking mouth."
And of course, the Haggadah teaches that
כָּל הַמַּרְבֶּה לְסַפֵּר בִּיצִיאַת מִצְרַיִם הֲרֵי זֶה מְשֻׁבָּח
the more we speak at the seder, the more praiseworthy we are
Speech is central to the story of Yetziat Mitzrayim because it is a vital means of self-expression, connection, Torah and Tefila—the building blocks of Jewish unity, then and now. When our shul community prays together, shares our hopes and fears, and makes space for every voice that seeks to be heard, we strengthen our faith and cultivate hope for the future.
Because while speech alone isn’t the whole story—of course, action is essential—Parshat Bo teaches us that geula (redemption), and by extension, inclusion, begins with an expressive voice and the fundamental power of the freedom of speech.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Eliezer Hirsch