In Parashat Bo, in the very midst of catastrophe and redemption, the Torah pauses to give an instruction that feels almost out of place:

“And you shall tell your child on that day: It is because of what the Lord did for me when I went out of Egypt.” (Exodus 13:8)

Not what God did for them, but for me. Judaism insists that history becomes holy only when it becomes relational — passed from parent to child, teacher to student, generation to generation. Trauma alone does not endure. Only told trauma does.

We are now living in a moment when Holocaust survivors are entering their final years, even as October 7 has become our generation’s rupture. For many Jews, it is the first time the words massacre, hostage, hunted, burned, terrorized feel immediate rather than inherited. October 7 is not the Shoah — but it is the moment our generation will be asked to remember, interpret, and transmit.

So the question is not only what happened, but how will we tell it?

Rashi, on our verse in Bo, notices something subtle. On “for me,” he explains that each person must see themselves as if they personally left Egypt. Memory is not archival; it is experiential. The story is told in a way that places the listener inside the event.

Sforno adds........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)