Many questions arise from the biblical account of the Ten Plagues. I am sure that for most people those questions are usually centred around the scientific reality of the different acts of God discussed. However, there is one issue that has been highlighted by Rabbi Dovid Fohrman in his Pesach series- ‘Why is it that unlike all the other nine plagues preceding it, the tenth plague has no automatic immunity for the Jews?’
Indeed, unlike the nine other plagues, the Jews were required to actively distinguish themselves by painting their doorposts with ram's blood. Such an act was completely unnecessary before the tenth plague.
My understanding of this act has been developed and moulded by an unfortunate incident that occurred in the not too distant past.
On the afternoon of the 22nd May, 2013, a British army soldier was mauled to death. His name was Drummer Lee Rigby. His attackers Michael Adebolajo and Michael Adebowale claimed this atrocity was a ‘just’ vengeance for the killings of Muslims by British soldiers. Their actions left a ghastly stain on the once-perceived, multi-cultural tolerance that the city of London prides itself on.
Upon inspection and further interrogation, these men lamented the Muslim casualties at the hands of British soldiers. They sought to viciously avenge whom they felt to be the helpless victims of a violent, powerful regime. Fittingly therefore, armed with weapons and a deluded hatred stemming from a violent and powerful regime (extremist Islam), the attackers murdered Lee Rigby, unarmed, unassuming and wholly innocent. The ‘victims’ thus became the perpetrators and Lee Rigby, synonymous in their indoctrinated and mistaken minds with the British Army (the accused perpetrators), became the real victim.
There are two lessons that I personally see this tragic event teaching us on Pesach. It was only a year ago when this horrifying news reverberated throughout the communities in Britain. As a member of the Jewish community I am proud to say that for the most part, Lee Rigby’s death was mourned as another life stolen from our world in our perennial war with the terrors of evil and delusion. However, I do recall the vast amounts of Islamaphobia that surfaced inside and outside the media after the event aswell as the chilling conversations I had with those whom sought only to establish the entire Muslim race as a metaphoric conveyor belt for these atrocities. It behooves me to remind all concerned that such views originate and sprout from the same seeds of fanatical thought that cause the aforementioned atrocities. It is for this reason that I propose that the response to terror cannot be blame or accusation, but rather it’s most feared adversary, Good. I am not discussing merely the ability to say, “I am good because I am not evil.” But rather, “I am good because I seek to wholly eradicate evil.” That's all very well and poetic, but how exactly is that done? How, after thousands of years of human civilisation and countless monstrosities in evil’s guise, can we look to wholly eradicate its presence? Let us learn from an unlikely, albeit contemporary source.
Russel Crowe, AKA Noah:
In Hollywood’s most recent epic, Russell Crowe plays our Biblical hero, Noah in what was a film that managaed to simultaneously contain glaring inaccuracies of biblical text, comical interpretations of Midrash, some form of nuclear lightsabre held by King Methuselah and a gripping, ethical dilemma embodied perfectly through the skilful acting of Russell Crowe. One scene that has etched itself into my mind depicts Noah venturing out into the forest to view the debased immorality of the Earth’s remaining humans. He stares, almost voyeuristically at their licentiousness and gluttony and in a short five second scenario, he finds himself staring at a man, ripping through the live corpse of an animal with his bare teeth. Upon closer inspection, the man of his gaze appears to be Noah himself. In a moment of panic, Noah flees backward out the forest only to become immersed in the blood of humanity. The audience is left bewildered in their attempts to interpret the meaning of this scene and Noah himself appears somewhat confused as to the conclusion. The director’s own interpretation of this event depicts Noah as deciding that this means that he himself is pure evil and is destined for destruction after saving earth’s animals. Whilst I may not personally agree with this interpretation, I see the logic. I do however remember the exact scene juxtaposed with the one aforementioned. It pictures Noah arduously attending to his ark and exerting huge amounts of effort in its construction. What does this teach us though? Why is it important that the two events juxtapose one another? Noah sees himself in the evil of this world and then immediately sets out to continue the construction of the ark?
Whilst this story is of course of Biblical origin it was the dedication that Russell Crowe embodied in his portrayal of Noah that deserves his mention in this essay. Indeed, his determined approach to the construction of the ark, a vessel that quite literally saved humanity and earth’s creatures, demonstrates our own reaction that we should perform in the face of evil.
The building of the ark raises one profound question. Why not let God make an ark himself for Noah and the animals? Why ask Noah to partake in such a laborious task? The answer is simple. It is only through the proactive involvement in creating a distinction between good and evil that merits Noah’s eventual survival. Russell Crowe’s Noah saw himself as part of the evil of this world, he had until then not built the ark fully. Perhaps this demonstrates the idea that passivity is no protection from evil? Without fully responding to evil’s demons, one is easily taken in as part of them. The act of building the ark in its entirety symbolised for Noah the ability to stand aloof from evil’s grasp. To literally float above its deathly deluge of irresistible temptation.
This is exactly how we respond to evil today. It is not enough to point fingers at the killers of Lee Rigby and recognise their evil. Pointing fingers at the bad in recognition that we are not like them only defines us as ‘not bad.’ Therefore, it is only through proactive good that we successfully create evil’s most feared opponent. That opponent, proactive-good, stands alone in its ability to eradicate evil. Indeed, were we all too busy with proactively being good, there would literally be no time nor space for the manifestation of evil.
What does this have to do with Pesach though? What does Russell Crowe, our firstborn status, the Ram’s blood and Lee Rigby’s murder teach us? Rabbi Eliezer Melamed notes a significant difference in the Jewish concept of freedom from slavery than other nations' definitions. He states that unlike other oppressed nations, when the Jews became free they did not seek to establish a reign over a now-powerless and disarmed Egyptian nation. They left them to lick their wounds and re-establish themselves in the hope that they had learnt the lessons of monotheism and its values. So unlike what perhaps would have been expected, Israel with all the power of God, used their freedom to determine a moral value. Not to take advantage of the weak or exact any sort of ‘just’ revenge for their suffering. It was precisely that misinformed idea of revenge that led to the murder of Lee Rigby. It was the proactive actions of Noah that led to humanity’s salvation and it was the pious acts of the Jews leaving Egypt that led to the spread of monotheism and its resultant values which can be seen throughout society today.
Lee Rigby’s murder teaches us that our job is not done. As the firstborns of God it is our responsibility to teach our sibling nations that only through proactive good can we eradicate evil. We see this in the Jews' instruction to proactively distinguish themselves with the painting of their doorposts. The firstborn can not alleviate themselves of this responsibility and separate themselves from their brothers. We as Jews must recognise this fact and remember our own responsibility. Remember the history of our people and the actions they took. Most importantly though, remember that it was on this chag, Pesach, that the Jews, as firstborns, left their oppressors as a nation with a mission. Let us not forget that mission. Let us successfully continue to bring good into this world in its most actualised form and may that success bring the resultant days of utopian peace and prosperity to all our brothers in this world.
In hope that we can all grow and develop our ways we can as always, turn to our Rabbis to perfectly encapsulate this idea
"Pure Tzadikim don't complain about evil, they increase righteousness, they don't complain about heresy they increase faith, they don't complain about ignorance, they increase understanding" - Rav Kook
