Can you picture a Jewish People, an Israel, loved and admired by the world at large? An Israel that perennially wins the "Most Admired" prize in international voting?
Seems like quite a stretch, doesn't it? Considering the way we're portrayed in the media, and the level of anti-Israel diatribe out there, such a scenario sounds pretty far-fetched. If polls in the UK vote Israel "least attractive place to visit," and Scandinavia - a place as pareve as halva - features anti-Israel marches, then what hope is there?
And yet, this is the challenge, the goal, the dream that lies ahead of us.
As Israel prepares to leave Egypt, the pasuk tells us, "And Hashem caused the Jewish People to be viewed favorably by the Egyptians; Moshe, too, was admired as a great man by the masses and by Pharaoh's servants."
Now, we would have expected a far different reaction. After years of anti-Jewish incitement, after ten plagues that decimated the Egyptian landscape, economy and daily routine, we'd have thought the Jews would be utterly detested, ridden out of Mitzrayim on a rail. Instead, we left with heads held high, showered, even, with lavish gifts.
So, what was it that transformed the view of the Jew from "detestable" (5:21) to "great"?
I suggest the world's perception of us radically changed when our own perception of ourselves changed. As long as we saw ourselves as a pitiful, pitiable people, others viewed us likewise, and their pity soon turned to contempt. If we had no pride in who we were, no self-respect, how could we expect others to respect us?
Moshe changed all that. He first took us out of the "sivlot Mizrayim," the tolerance of being mistreated by Egypt. He taught us to stand up for ourselves, to fight back, to conduct ourselves as an Am Segula, not a slave people. Our defining moment came when we were commanded to take a lamb - the Egyptian deity - and offer it to the one, true G-d. Tough? Absolutely. But no guts, no glory.
Hashem promises that one day we shall be looked up to by the world as a model for holiness in human form. That seems so far away. Yet, the longest journey begins with the first step: Stand straight and walk tall, clothed in midot and mitzvot, secure in our role as G-d's "firstborn".
Seems like quite a stretch, doesn't it? Considering the way we're portrayed in the media, and the level of anti-Israel diatribe out there, such a scenario sounds pretty far-fetched. If polls in the UK vote Israel "least attractive place to visit," and Scandinavia - a place as pareve as halva - features anti-Israel marches, then what hope is there?
And yet, this is the challenge, the goal, the dream that lies ahead of us.
As Israel prepares to leave Egypt, the pasuk tells us, "And Hashem caused the Jewish People to be viewed favorably by the Egyptians; Moshe, too, was admired as a great man by the masses and by Pharaoh's servants."
Now, we would have expected a far different reaction. After years of anti-Jewish incitement, after ten plagues that decimated the Egyptian landscape, economy and daily routine, we'd have thought the Jews would be utterly detested, ridden out of Mitzrayim on a rail. Instead, we left with heads held high, showered, even, with lavish gifts.
So, what was it that transformed the view of the Jew from "detestable" (5:21) to "great"?
I suggest the world's perception of us radically changed when our own perception of ourselves changed. As long as we saw ourselves as a pitiful, pitiable people, others viewed us likewise, and their pity soon turned to contempt. If we had no pride in who we were, no self-respect, how could we expect others to respect us?
Moshe changed all that. He first took us out of the "sivlot Mizrayim," the tolerance of being mistreated by Egypt. He taught us to stand up for ourselves, to fight back, to conduct ourselves as an Am Segula, not a slave people. Our defining moment came when we were commanded to take a lamb - the Egyptian deity - and offer it to the one, true G-d. Tough? Absolutely. But no guts, no glory.
Hashem promises that one day we shall be looked up to by the world as a model for holiness in human form. That seems so far away. Yet, the longest journey begins with the first step: Stand straight and walk tall, clothed in midot and mitzvot, secure in our role as G-d's "firstborn".