Parshat Bo: Finding Light in Darkness

From Frogs to Darkness—Acts of Devotion

In last week’s Parsha, we learned about the frogs who willingly jumped into ovens—giving their lives to fulfill Hashem’s will. This week, Parshat Bo brings us to Makat Choshech, the plague of darkness, a tangible symbol of what happens when people stop seeing others.

The Torah tells us: "Lo ra'u ish et achiv"—no one could see his fellow. Egyptian society had descended into such self-absorption and spiritual blindness that they became trapped in total darkness. But "u’lchol Bnei Yisrael haya or"—for the Jewish people, there was light.

The contrast couldn’t be clearer. When we care for others, reach out, and strive to see beyond ourselves, we create light. When we focus only on ourselves, we invite darkness into our lives.

Galut Is a Crack in the Window

The Midrash offers a poignant metaphor from Shir HaShirim: Hashem is “mashgiach min hachalonot, metzitz min hacharakim”—He peers through windows and cracks. When the Beit HaMikdash stood, divine clarity poured in like sunlight through a wide window. In exile, that light shrinks to a sliver through a crack. But even a crack lets light in.

What worsens our galut? Lo ra'u—when we stop trying to see, stop believing Hashem is watching over us. If we strengthen our emunah, the light returns. The darkness lifts.

A Personal Story of Emunah in the Shadows

A touching story illustrates this lesson. A once-wealthy Israeli man lost everything and traveled to America seeking help. Locked out of opportunity, he turned to the only One who could truly help—Hashem. After davening with heartfelt Tehillim, he approached a mansion, introduced himself as “Moshe Friedman,” and—miraculously—the gates opened. He wasn’t the expected visitor, but the mistaken identity led the host to hear his story and ultimately gift him the exact amount he needed to restart his life.

We’re reminded: When we feel lost, alone, or surrounded by darkness, there is always One listening. Emunah can shift the reality we perceive.

The First Mitzvah: Sanctifying Time

Parshat Bo introduces the first mitzvah given to the Jewish people: Hachodesh hazeh lachem—sanctifying the new moon. Rashi asks, why doesn’t the Torah begin here, if mitzvot are its focus?

Why this mitzvah, and not Shabbat, or honoring parents? The answer lies in its message: renewal. Each month we get a chance to begin again. The moon’s cycle reminds us that light returns, even after complete darkness.

Taking Ownership of Time

More deeply, Hashem tells us: Hachodesh hazeh lachem—this time is yours. A slave has no control over time, but a free person does. This was Israel’s first taste of freedom: reclaiming the gift of time.

We live in an era obsessed with time management. But are we truly managing more—or just moving faster? The Torah teaches that time is sacred. We must strive to ensure each day carries meaning: a mitzvah done, a tefillah spoken, a helping hand offered.

The Molad of Fire—Living with Passion

When Moshe was confused about the mitzvah of the new moon, Hashem showed him a fiery image of the molad. The Midrash says it was a molad shel eish—a moon made of fire.

The message? Don’t just track time—ignite it. Live with passion, warmth, and purpose. Sanctifying time isn’t about marking a calendar—it’s about lighting up every moment with meaning.

Tefillin: The Connection of Mind and Heart

Though women are not obligated in tefillin, its message resonates with all of us. Tefillin connects the head and the heart, the intellectual and the emotional. And it binds the arm, reminding us to act with strength and purpose.

A poignant story from pre-war Europe tells of a boy whose father forgot his bar mitzvah. A passerby noticed his tears and helped him don tefillin. This act of kindness turned the boy’s sorrow into connection—and showed how the bond of mitzvot and love can shine light in painful moments.

Conclusion: From Darkness to Light, from Chaos to ClarityParshat Bo teaches us that spiritual darkness begins when we lose sight of others. It reminds us that renewal is always possible, that time is our gift, and that even in galut, there is light for those who seek it. With emunah, with mitzvot, and with compassion—we become the bearers of that light.

May we merit to sanctify each moment, seek Hashem even through the cracks, and bring the light of redemption closer every day.