Parshat Tzav and Pesach

This week, Parshat Tzav coincides with Pesach—each centered on a sacrifice no longer offered, yet rich with enduring lessons about Jewish identity and observance.

The word tzav introduces the command to Aaron regarding the olah, the burnt offering. This sacrifice remained burning through the night, and each morning the priests began by clearing the ashes before starting anew. Rashi explains that tzav conveys zerizut—urgency and enthusiasm—applying both now and l’dorot for all generations. Chizkuni adds that such motivation was needed for a task done daily, which could easily become monotonous. How does this speak directly to our own lives today (l’dorot)? Just as the kohanim were called to maintain passion in their daily service, we are challenged to keep our Torah study and prayer fresh and meaningful despite their routine nature.

These same values—zerizut and l’dorot—are central to Pesach. As Bnei Yisrael prepared to leave Egypt, they were commanded to eat the korban Pesach b’hipazon: “with your loins girded, your sandals on your feet, and your staff in your hand; and you shall eat it in haste.” Though we no longer bring this offering, we recall it at the seder. We retell how the people marked their doorposts with its blood. There is a debate about whether the blood was placed inside, where only they could see it—Rashi explains this was to strengthen their observance and emunah—or outside, as Rambam suggests, a public rejection of Egyptian idolatry and immoral culture. Today, we need both: inward faith and outward expressions of Jewish identity.

The messages of these ancient offerings—bringing passion to our observance and strengthening our identity—are as relevant today as ever. Shabbat Shalom and Chag Kasher ve’Sameach – Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Yitro: Embracing the Yitros of Today

How striking that the parsha describing God’s covenant with Israel at Sinai—a defining moment for Jewish nationhood—is named after someone outside the nation: Yitro. This highlights a timeless lesson on Jewish identity, antisemitism, and the importance of recognizing true allies.

The parsha begins after Amalek wages war on a vulnerable Israel as they journey through the desert. It then recounts how Yitro, Moshe’s father-in-law, travels from Midian to meet Moshe at the mountain of God after hearing about “what God had done for Israel.” Following this, Israel encamps at Har Sinai for Matan Torah. The commentaries see deep connections between these events.

The midrash Mekhilta contains a debate focusing on the ambiguity of what Yitro heard. R’ Yehoshua says that he heard about the victory over Amalek, seeing the contrast between Amalek’s hostility and God’s protection of Israel. R’ Elazar Hamodai, however, teaches that Yitro heard about the wonders of Matan Torah, which would mean the Torah tells these events out of chronological order. If Yitro arrived after Matan Torah, why is his arrival placed between Amalek and Matan Torah? Ibn Ezra explains that this juxtaposition teaches us that when recalling the hate-attack by Amalek, we should also remember that we, the Jewish nation, have genuine friends and admirers, like Yitro. 

Both interpretations contain a message for contemporary times. First, antisemitism should not define Jewish identity; rather, it should be built on positive Jewish values, with Matan Torah as its foundation. Second, while we must call out and confront antisemitism, we should not let it distort our perception of the world. Just as the Torah reminds us of Yitro’s support, we too must recognize and embrace the Yitros of our time—those who stand with the Jewish people. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Shemot: Remembering Our Name

What’s in a name? Parshat Shemot lists the names of Yaacov’s sons who went down to Egypt. Yet, it also refers without names, to “a man from the house of Levi,” “daughter of Levi,” “daughter of Pharaoh,” and others. Biblical interpreters view the names and namelessness as a reflection of the strengthening or weakening of Jewish identity, particularly in the diaspora.

Sforno comments that the children of Yaacov are named because they lived up to their “names” or good character and family values. However, the generation enslaved in Egypt were not worthy of mentioning by name, hence the anonymity. The midrash, in contrast, teaches that one of the reasons Bnei Yisrael were redeemed from Egypt was that they kept their Hebrew names while in exile. The midrash assumes the next generation carried on the traditions of Yaacov. Similarly, some commentaries say Moshe is an Egyptian name, given to him by the daughter of Pharaoh, yet in Hebrew it alludes to his future role as savior of Israel. Others insist that it is a Hebrew name which was given to him by his mother and kept by Pharaoh’s daughter. A Hebrew name symbolizes Moshe’s future embracing of his identity and traditions. 

When European Jews moved to Israel, some Hebraicized their names to break from their past diaspora identity and highlight their Israeli-ness. Dara Horn has written about the “Ellis Island myth.” She argues that Jewish immigrants to America changed their names to sound more “American” and claimed that they were forced to change their names by officials at Ellis Island. This too highlights the connection between names and retaining or losing one’s identity. 

The book in which the Jewish nation is born is appropriately called Shemot, names. This was a watershed moment for the generation in Egypt and at various times and places in Jewish history. Today too, Shemot is asking us to stand strong and answer to the name of our nation. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson