Bo
Exodus 10:1–13:16 

By Jen Smith 

Parashat Bo is one of the most dramatic portions in the Torah. It is here that the final plagues strike Egypt, Pharaoh’s resistance is broken, and the children of Israel take their first steps toward freedom. But if we look beyond the historical narrative, we find a mystical and deeply personal story that speaks not only of ancient redemption, but of our own spiritual journey today. 

The Kabbalists teach that Egypt (Mitzrayim) is not just a place; it is a state of constriction, a symbol of the spiritual exile that traps us in cycles guided by negative habits, fears, and limiting beliefs. The Hebrew word Mitzrayim shares its root with meitzar, meaning “narrow place,” or a place that confines us not just physically, but intellectually and spiritually as well. 

The ten plagues, seen through a mystical lens, were not only punishments but also tools for dismantling the illusions of Pharaoh, the ultimate embodiment and symbol of ego. Each plague shattered a layer of arrogance and false power, revealing the presence of the divine; or at the very least, a power that transcended human control. Just as Pharaoh had to let go, so too must we break free from the Pharaohs within us. These are the inner voices that say, “I cannot change, it is too hard,” “This is just the way things are,” or “I am in control of everything.” 

During the chaos of the plagues, something incredible happens: God gives the Israelites their first commandment as a nation; the mitzvah of sanctifying the new moon (Rosh Chodesh). Why is this the first mitzvah? Perhaps because it characterizes one of the most important values in Judaism: time does not happen to us – instead, we sanctify it and shape it with free will. 

The moon, waxing and waning in an endless celestial cycle, represents the Jewish people and the human soul; sometimes feeling full and bright, and other times dim and diminished. But the lesson we can extract from Rosh Chodesh is that even when the moon disappears entirely, it always returns. So too, no matter how dark things seem, we always have the power to renew ourselves. 

This is a powerful message as we approach Shabbat and every new beginning in our lives: rather than some earth-shattering one-time event, redemption is cyclical. We rise, we achieve, we exceed our grasp, we fall, we rise again. We struggle, we transform. The first mitzvah given to us is not about laws or rituals, it is about knowing that we are never stuck – our paths to freedom from within and our external struggles are only temporary, and we can always begin again. 

Before the final plague, the Israelites are commanded to mark their doorposts with the blood of a lamb (korban Pesach). On a simple level, this was a sign that distinguished the Israelites from the Egyptians, marking the sacred from the profane, protecting the Israelites from the plague. But on a mystical level, this act symbolizes something deeper.  

The doorpost (mezuzah) represents the threshold between the world inside and our world outside, creating a tangible border that separates our personal commitments and the challenges of society. By marking the door with the blood of the lamb offering, the Israelites made a public declaration of faith. They weren’t just physically leaving Mitzrayim (the narrow place) – spiritually, they were stepping over the threshold to a new identity. This reminds us that true freedom requires courage. The moments that define the chapters in our lives sometimes require us to step outside of our comfort zones and declare our values. Whether it’s through acts of kindness, supporting justice, or simply living our Jewish values in an increasingly complex world, redemption begins when we choose to make our commitments visible. 

Far from a fable of the ancient past, Parashat Bo is an invitation to examine our own “narrow places.” What is your Egypt? Which inner Pharaoh must you overcome to grow, heal and embrace your spiritual path? 

Jewish mysticism teaches that every day, we must relive the Exodus—because redemption is not something that happened once; it is a journey we walk in every generation and in every heart. May we have the courage to break free from whatever holds us back, the wisdom to see the light in the darkest times, and the faith to keep moving forward, knowing that the journey itself is sacred. 

 

Shabbat Shalom.