If only you could know
The things I long to say
If only I could tell you
What I wish I could convey
It’s in my ev’ry glance
My heart’s an open book
You’d see it all at once
If only you would look

https://www.lyricsondemand.com/soundtracks/l/littlemermaidlyrics/ifonlyhervoicelyrics.html

Just like Ariel in the Little Mermaid. If only…we could find our voice…that is what today’s portion is about.
How do we tell our story?
Why does this story matter?

The text says:
And the Lord said to Moses, Go to Pharaoh. Bo. Come to Pharaoh.

Moses had to meet Pharaoh where he was…even though he really didn’t want to. Even though he really didn’t think he was capable. Even though he didn’t really think he had the right words. Moses needed to find his voice.

But Pharaoh was stubborn. His heart was hardened. And he needed a little more convincing. OK, a lot more convincing. So Moses and Aaron had to go again to Pharaoh. They had to find their voice.

We have to find our voice too. We have to find our voice for two reasons. The first is the text tells us, “When your children ask you, “What do you mean by this, you shall say, “It is the Passover sacrifice to the Lord, because G-d passed over the houses of the Israelites in Egypt, while smiting the Egyptians but saving our houses.”

They might ask not only what is this right to you, but where were you? What did you do?

This is the portion where the storyline changes. This is the first commandment to the Jewish people. This is where they begin to be not just slaves but a people, ready to do something. Ready to do G-d’s bidding. They go from being passive slaves, groaning under the weight of their oppression, to active participants.

They actively watch the lamb and then just as they were commanded put the blood on the doorposts so the Angel of Death can pass over.

Later is the portion, the child asks again, “And when, in the time to come, your child asks you, saying, “What does this mean?”, you will say to him, “It was with a mighty hand that the Lord brought us out from Egypt, out of the house of bondage.”

Each of us needs to see it as we were each brought out of the house of bondage, out or Egypt, the narrow place. And each of us has a role in that exodus.

When our children ask what did we do on that day…we need to be prepared to answer…this is what it means and this is what I did when the Lord brought me out of the house of bondage.

So how do we tell that story?

Part of that story, is that 82 of my colleagues were arrested this week at the Capitol, for demanding that Congress pass a Dream Act. Why is this a Jewish issue? Precisely because we were strangers in the land of Egypt. We are to remember that story—and treat the stranger, the widow, the orphan, the most marginalized amongst us with love, with care, with concern. This very parsha teaches us that there should be one law for citizen and immigrant alike. So I add my voice to the voices of other rabbis, “Pass the Dream Act.”

Part of that story, is that later today, or in some places right now while we are in services, women throughout the country will find their voices as they march for equal pay, for women’s health care, for justice everywhere. They are finding their voices in record numbers. Later today I will join them and add my voice to theirs. Our tradition demands, “Tzedek, tzedek tirdof, justice, justice shall you pursue. So that when my grandchild asks, “What does this mean to you,” I will be able to say that on that day, I was there.

Part of that story is how we tell our histories, our unique stories as families. Our students are using this book, “My Generations” by Arthur Kurzweil which we are updating and calling “Our incredible journey” as a family scrapbook. It gives families the opportunities to collect photos, documents like baby naming certificates and Bar/Bat Mitzvah certificates, wedding ketubot and more. But also things like family recipes, family jokes, family pets, favorite vacations. And yes, our immigrant ancestors. All the parts of the journey that make each family unique.

Passover demands that we tell the stories. It is the Jewish holiday that is most celebrated in the American Jewish community. It works on many levels—historical, political and spiritual. As Rabbi Laura Geller said so eloquently, “The historical level reminds us that because we were slaves, we must fight against all forms of oppression. The political level best captured in the famous words of the political philosopher Michael Walzer: “First; that wherever you live, it is probably Egypt; second; that there is a better place, a world more attractive, a promised land; and third, that the way to the land is through the wilderness. There is no way to get from here to there except by joining together and marching.” The spiritual level helps us notice that every person has an Egypt, a narrow place that keeps us from being free.”
http://tmt.urj.net/archives/1torahstudy/011810.htm

Telling our stories takes courage. That’s what the #MeToo Movement is about. It is about being brave. It is about walking through the Red Sea, reaching the other side and bursting into spontaneous song, just like Moses. Just like Miriam who took a timbrel in her hand and all the women followed her.

Every week here we read a psalm, Psalm 30, a song for the dedication of the Temple.
What profit is there if I am silenced?
What benefit if I go to my grave?
Will the dust praise You?
Will it proclaim Your faithfulness?

Today our Torah portion demands that we rededicate to telling the stories. That we find our voice. That we speak out and speak up. May it be so. Ken yehi ratzon.

Here is what I said at Elgin Standing Together later in the day:

Just a week ago, many of us gathered to celebrate the legacy of The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, jr. I spoke in my blog about the friendship between King and Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel who when he marched with King felt his feet were praying. Later today we will use our feet to pray and to act for a time where justice will roll down like waters, a righteousness as a mighty stream.

Today, I bring you greetings from the Rev. Leslie Mills who was scheduled to pray but unfortunately is sick. Today, some of you may not feel like praying. Some of you may wonder what is the point. This is a year where the words “thoughts and prayers” have too often seemed hollow. Some of you may be angry. I know I am. Or sad. Or confused. That’s OK.

Today, I stand here remembering my own mom who stood at so many of these events in her lifetime. I am wearing her pin which says Hope, Dream, Imagine, Peace. It was one of her last gifts to me, made by women at the Women’s Shelter in Grand Rapids. I stand here today, proud that my daughter is here with me.

So this prayer is for our mothers and for our daughters. And yes for our fathers, our husbands and our sons.

Prayer invites the Eternal Presence to suffuse our spirits and let God’s will prevail in our lives. Prayer cannot bring water to parched fields, or mend a broken bridge, or rebuild a ruined city; but prayer can water an arid soul, mend a broken heart, and rebuild a weakened will.

Abraham Joshua Heschel in Gates of Prayer

Disturb us, Eternal One, ruffle us from our complacency; Make us dissatisfied. Dissatisfied with the peace of ignorance, the quietude which arises from a shunning of the horror, the defeat, the bitterness and the poverty, physical and spiritual, of humans.

Shock us, Lord, deny to us the false Sabbath which gives us the delusions of satisfaction amid a world of war and hatred;

Wake us, O God, and shake us from the sweet and sad poignancies rendered by half forgotten melodies and rubric prayers of yesteryears;

Make us know that the border of the sanctuary is not the border of living and the walls of your temples are not shelters from the winds of truth, justice and reality.

Disturb us, O God, and vex us; let not Your Shabbat be a day of torpor and slumber; let it be a time to be stirred and spurred to action. (Mitchell Salem Fisher, adapted, in Mishkan T’filah, p. 173)

We Cannot Merely Pray
We cannot merely pray to God to end war;
For the world was made in such a way
That we must find our own path of peace
Within ourselves and with our neighbor.

We cannot merely pray to God to root out prejudice;
For we already have eyes
With which to see the good in all people I
f we would only use them rightly.

We cannot merely pray to God to end starvation;
For we already have the resources
With which to feed the entire world
If we would only use them wisely.

We cannot merely pray to God to end despair;
For we already have the power
To clear away slums and give hope
If we would only use our power justly.

We cannot merely pray to God to end disease;
For we already have great minds
With which to search out cures and healings
If we would only use them constructively
Therefore we pray instead
For strength, determination, and will power.
To do instead of merely pray
To become instead of merely to wish;
That our world may be safe,
And that our lives may be blessed.
Jack Riemer

Those who rise from prayer better persons, their prayer is answered

Come with me and rise
Come and rise so that others can hope
Rise so that others can dream
Rise to remember that we were created each in the image of G-d
Rise to remember that we were slaves in Egypt
To remember that we know the pain of being a stranger
Rise to demonstrate our love for our neighbors
Rise to demonstrate our love for our immigrants
Rise so we demonstrate our love of our children
Rise to feed the hungry and house the homeless
To care for the widow, the orphan, the stranger, the most marginalized among us
Rise instead of putting a stumbling block before the blind or cursing the deaf.
Come and rise with me.

And then later, I heard the echoes of Debbie Friedman’s Kaddish D’Rabbanan, the Scholar’s Kaddish

For our mothers and our daughters and the daughters of the daughters.
We ask for peace and lovingkindness
Here and everywhere.
May we be blessed with all we need
And let us say, Amen.