Our Daily Kavanot during Passover will feature pieces from our Wise Passover Haggadah Supplement. Each day, our clergy will focus on a different element of the Passover holiday.

Resetting Without Rigor

By Cantor Emma Lutz

וַיַּעֲבִ֧דוּ מִצְרַ֛יִם אֶת־בְּנֵ֥י יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל בְּפָֽרֶךְ׃ וַיְמָרְר֨וּ אֶת־חַיֵּיהֶ֜ם בַּעֲבֹדָ֣ה קָשָׁ֗ה בְּחֹ֙מֶר֙ וּבִלְבֵנִ֔ים וּבְכׇל־עֲבֹדָ֖ה בַּשָּׂדֶ֑ה אֵ֚ת כׇּל־עֲבֹ֣דָתָ֔ם אֲשֶׁר־עָבְד֥וּ בָהֶ֖ם בְּפָֽרֶךְ׃

And the Egyptians imposed upon the children of Israel with rigor the various labors they made them perform. In mortar and brick, in all manner of work in the field, in all their work they forced them to serve with rigor.

—Exodus 1:13-14

Nothing in our Torah is there by mistake. Whether you believe that the text was given by God, Divinely inspired, and/or woven together by the clever hands and minds of our ancestors, every canonized word has its purpose in the sacred story of our people. In these early verses from Exodus, we read the beginning of the Passover story: There was a pharaoh who did not remember Joseph, he feared the children of Israel and enslaved them, and his taskmasters imposed great burdens upon them. Here in the text, the word befarekh is repeated twice for emphasis, which can be translated as “with rigor.” So why do the verses repeat, reemphasizing the horrors of the Hebrew slaves’ most difficult burdens?

Our sage Rashi explains that befarekh is repeated here not just for emphasis, but also for clarity, so we understand that both the demands of the Egyptians were made with rigor and that the painstaking work of the children of Israel was also done so. Twentieth-century Torah scholar Nechama Leibowitz agrees with Rashi, but also expounds further: Befarekh refers to the work done beyond any normal standards of servitude. Leibowitz suggests that the Hebrew slaves were forced to do the work of the Egyptians (“their work”) as well as the additional work imposed upon them. The work was done with rigor two times over, and the unenviable expectations placed upon them were so heavy that we have to read befarekh twice in order to truly understand their experience. In essence, the Torah is teaching us that anything unwillingly, unfairly, or painfully imposed upon us indeed weighs twice as much.

When I read these verses of the Exodus story, my body has a physical reaction, as if I’m carrying heavy boulders on my shoulders; I have to readjust my posture to bring myself back to the present. I’m reminded of times in my life when I myself or others I am close to carried unmanageable expectations imposed by self, family, or society. Thank God we are free, yes, but each of us—no matter our age or circumstance—carries so many weighty responsibilities and expectations that sometimes feel twice as heavy as they should.

During this Passover season of renewal, how might we release some of the excess weight we ourselves carry with rigor—if not the tasks themselves, then at least our unreachable expectations of performing them with perfection? Where can you cut yourself some slack this season? Who can you ask for help? What realistic expectations can you set? And in turn, how might you notice those around you—your spouse, your children, your co-workers, and friends—who are weighed down by those same lofty expectations and cumbersome burdens?

This Passover, may our tradition remind us to reset, to create space for ourselves and our loved ones to live without excessive rigor, with a bit more joy, levity, and compassion. This Passover, may we celebrate our freedom. This Passover, may we feel renewed by the stories of our tradition, told year after year, but always making space for us to find new meaning in our text and rituals. This year, may we place no undue burdens on others and only do the things we find meaningful with the fullest rigor of our hearts.