From last week's parsha comes a question: why, at the killing of the firstborn, were the Jews commanded to place blood on our doorposts as a sign? As a sign… for God? Doesn't He know who is a Jew and who is an Egyptian? Why does He need a sign? The Slonimer Rebbe teaches that this was our part in getting out of Egypt - we had to tell God that we wanted to come out of Egypt, go into the desert and receive His Torah. In essence, our "sign" told Hashem that we were choosing Him.
We always hear how we Jews are the "Chosen People." Our being "chosen" is only a reflection of our own choosing Hashem and His Torah. It started with Avraham choosing Isaac instead of Ishmael, and Isaac choosing Jacob over Eisav. It continues up to when we're asked to place the sign of blood on the doorposts as a statement of our devotion to God. We are asked every moment of every day, as Jews, when we choose to walk with Hashem. This "sign" is actually is a kli (vessel). Like with all of the mitzvot, we create a vessel to receive God's light and abundant grace, the design of the vessel in the image our our Creator. God is always pouring the light down; the question is, do I have a vessel to catch it with? The more mitzvot we perform, the greater the size of our kli, and the greater amount of light that can fill us.
Let us get specific here. This week, I learned that bitakhon (trust) in Hashem is a vessel for receiving His assistance when in need. A Chassidic story is told of a man who visited a certain Rebbe that gave out blessings. If the Rebbe could help, or if he could help reverse a decree, he would give a blessing; otherwise, he would place the chassid's written request for a blessing aside. One day, a man whose son was terribly ill came to the Rebbe. At his turn, the Rebbe turned his note aside without a blessing. You can just imagine the man's devastation. That very day was Simchat Torah, and everyone was dancing and singing and praying, but he was not. When he realized that he should not forgo the festival because of his grief, he decided to get up and join the other chassidim. The day after the celebration, he decided to go back to the Rebbe for a blessing to help him cope with the fate of his child. The Rebbe then told him that his son would recover, and wished him a complete healing.
Here in Thailand, you can see just how much the command to "love thy neighbor" can create a vessel for the Divine Presence. I spent Shabbat with the Chabad of Bangkok. If you can imagine, you've never seen so many Israelis, even in Israel itself! Beyond all of the differences between us, beyond the judgements and labels, is a bond unique to the Jewish people. I constantly hear the word "Achi," the Hebrew equivalent of "bro," in the street, and Jewish people are instantly connecting as though they knew each other a whole lifetime. I heard a story of an Israeli guy who was thrown into prison here, and a bunch of Israelis who didn't even know the guy raised the money to get him out! An American, a German, or a Dutchman might have been in there for months, waiting for someone who knew him to come and help him. The Jewish connection is strong, and the more we live by the commandment of loving each other unconditionally, the greater our vessel for redemption.
To see the grandness of the Jewish presence in the world is awesome. From the impact of our initial birth at the redemption from Eygpt to the Thai waitress answering "Baruch Hashem" when I ask her how she's doing, our influence in the world is huge. Let us carry that responsibility gracefully. Remembering our mitzvot, choosing God every moment anew, placing a sign on our doorposts and building deeper and deeper vessels that we should all merit soon to receive the coming of Mashiach. Amen.