In grade school, I had a small obsession with ancient Egypt.
I checked out books about pharaohs and pyramids from my school library. I sat for hours reading about mummies and tombs. I was fascinated by stories of Cleopatra, Imhotep, King Tut and other rulers of the time.
So when I found out that the Milwaukee Public Museum was to host an exhibit on ancient Egypt one April, I insisted that my family go see it.
When we arrived, I was in my element. I scurried from one artifact to the next, reveling in the history in front of me while excitedly chattering about this earthen jug and that hieroglyph.
Then, somewhere among the broken pottery, the shriveled mummies and the weathered statues, I had an epiphany of sorts.
This is all that is left of ancient Egypt, I thought, looking around the showroom. The remains of what was once a powerful kingdom can now be seen only in museums, inside temperature-controlled glass cases and surrounded by security personnel. A major world power in those days is dusty, cracked and tarnished in these. People actually have to pay to get a good look at what's left of it.
Looking back on this experience, I realize that the Jews were part of this empire. The Egyptians forced us to do back-breaking work in the most humiliating ways possible. They forced Jewish slaves to capture insects and wild animals for no constructive reason, and worked them so ruthlessly that a slave couldn’t pause to scratch an itch for fear of lashes. The book of Shmot (Exodus) testifies that we molded those bricks and built those pyramids. We were slaves, on the lowest level of holiness.
But look at us now! Tefillin and mezuzot are not rare artifacts from an ancient time. With innovations such as the internet and cellphones, Judaism is more accessible than ever. Need a siddur (prayer book)? Artscroll.com has dozens to choose from. Have a question on Jewish law? Make a quick phone call to your local rabbi. Need to know what time Shabbat comes this week? A quick Google search will give you candle-lighting times for the next decade.
In his famous essay “Concerning the Jews,” Mark Twain wrote:
“The Egyptian, the Babylonian, and the Persian rose, filled the planet with sound and splendor.…The Greek and Roman followed and made a vast noise, and they are gone.…The Jew saw them all, beat them all…All things are mortal but the Jew; all other forces pass, but he remains. What is the secret of his immortality?”
My answer to this question is, quite simply, G-d. The fact that we as a people still exist proves beyond any reasonable doubt that G-d is with us. The holiday of Pesach is but one instance of miracles and divine intervention throughout Jewish history. Is it really coincidence that every time a world power tries to conquer or annihilate us, a dwarf of a nation in proportion to others, they disappear and we remain?
The Nazis, for example, sought to make Judaism a dead religion. They confiscated Judaic items from their victims in the hope of establishing a museum displaying the traditions they had wiped out. Hitler and his followers wanted the world to see how they destroyed the Jewish nation. Today, there are Holocaust museums that house Nazi propaganda, uniforms, flags and other objects, teaching visitors how blind hate, prejudice and manipulation can have sinister results.
“I’m Jewish—so what?” is a question often heard in these times, when, thank G-d, we are free to practice our religion openly. But looking back at all those who tried to destroy us and failed, I think we should feel humbled and honored that G-d chose us to be His people. He has sustained us all these years for a purpose. Jews are to be “a light unto the nations,” on a mission to perfect and imperfect world.
Recently, we blessed the new Hebrew month of Nisan. During the service, I scanned the commentary in the bottom of my siddur and read a fascinating insight into one reason Hebrew months follow the lunar cycle.
The moon goes through phases. It starts new, barely visible, and waxes until it reaches its brightest stage as a full moon. Then it wanes, returning to a sliver of light, and the cycle begins again.
The Jewish nation is the same way. Throughout our history, we have made the trip from lowly slaves to thriving, respected authorities and back again. We’ve immigrated to new countries, built lives and reputations, then been unceremoniously booted out to find somewhere else to settle.
Our hardships strengthen us. We emerge better than before, more unified as a nation and more dedicated to preserving our heritage. Such is the nature of the Jewish people. Passover testifies to this concept: Immediately following the enslavement in Egypt, the Jewish people received the Torah and solidified their commitment to observing it.
As for me, after viewing the ancient Egyptian artifacts that April, I returned home and celebrated Passover with my family.
And the mummies? Well, they're probably on display in another town, glorifying G-d's Name as they rot away.
Talia Lakritz lives in Mequon and is in 12th grade at Torah Academy of Milwaukee.