Each year at Pesach, we gather around the Seder table to retell a story of liberation. We recall our ancestors’ suffering in Egypt, their miraculous escape from bondage, and their journey towards freedom. But what if it never happened?
The question may seem unsettling, even sacrilegious. Yet it is one that many contemporary Jews—especially those engaged in historical scholarship—cannot avoid. The overwhelming consensus among archaeologists today is that there is no clear material evidence to support the biblical account of the Exodus: no signs of mass migration through the Sinai, no evidence of Israelites dwelling in Egypt in the numbers or under the conditions described in the Torah.
This tension between tradition and archaeology was dramatically brought to light over twenty years ago when a prominent rabbi in Los Angeles raised the issue in a Pesach sermon. He asked his congregation whether it would matter if the Exodus were not historically true. The reaction was so intense that it landed on the front page of the Los Angeles Times. [1] Clearly, the question touches a deep nerve.
Scholar Richard Elliott Friedman, in his book The Exodus, offers an intriguing possibility. While acknowledging the lack of large-scale archaeological evidence, he suggests that a smaller group of people—possibly Levites with Egyptian connections—might indeed have left Egypt and brought with them a memory of slavery and divine liberation. This memory, over generations, became the Exodus narrative we know today.
Whether or not such a proto-Exodus occurred, Friedman’s point is crucial: the power of the story lies not in its provability, but in the moral and spiritual truths it conveys.
At its heart, Pesach is not only a celebration of freedom, but a call to responsibility. “You shall not oppress a stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” This commandment appears over and over in the Torah, and it is grounded in the Exodus experience—not as a historical report, but as a foundational narrative that shapes Jewish ethics.
The enduring power of Pesach is not in whether archaeologists can confirm it, but in its demand that we identify with the vulnerable and refuse to become Pharaohs when we are in positions of strength.
This year, may our storytelling renew our commitment to justice.
Chag haCherut sameach. Happy Festival of Freedom!
[1] https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-2001-apr-13-mn-50481-story.html
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário