Bo

Parshat Bo brings us to the final moments before the great redemption. After generations of suffering in Egypt, after plagues that shook the foundations of a mighty empire, Bnei Yisrael stand on the brink of freedom. The parsha is filled with miracles, with divine justice, with Hashem’s open hand guiding history. And yet, one of the most powerful messages in this parsha isn’t found in the grandeur of the plagues or the parting of the sea, it’s found in something much quieter, much more personal.

Before they leave, Hashem gives Bnei Yisrael a mitzvah: "This month shall be for you the beginning of months.” (Shemot 12:2). The very first mitzvah given to us as a nation is Kiddush HaChodesh, sanctifying the new moon. Why is this mitzvah, of all things, the first commandment given to a newly redeemed people? Why not Shabbat? Why not the laws of Emunah?

The answer is life changing. The moon is constantly changing. It disappears into darkness, only to return, shining once again. Hashem is telling us: You are like the moon. You will fall. You will have moments of darkness. You will feel small and broken. But just like the moon, you will rise again.

We all experience our own exile. There are days when we feel distant from Hashem, from our purpose, from the people we want to be. Sometimes we convince ourselves that we will never change, that we are trapped in our struggles, that spiritual growth is for others but not for us. But Parshat Bo reminds us that the ability to renew ourselves is built into creation. Just as the Jewish people rose from the depths of slavery to become a holy nation, so too can we rise from our personal struggles to become who we are meant to be.

Hashem didn’t expect Bnei Yisrael to leave Egypt as perfect tzaddikim. He knew they were still broken, still carrying the weight of years of servitude. But He took them anyway. Because Hashem doesn’t ask for perfection. He asks for movement. For effort. For the willingness to take one step forward, even when we feel unworthy.


The night before the redemption, Hashem commands Bnei Yisrael to perform the mitzvah of Korban Pesach. Each family must take a lamb, slaughter it, and place its blood on their doorposts. In that moment, they weren’t just marking their homes, they were marking themselves. They were declaring: We belong to Hashem. We are ready to leave Egypt, not just physically, but spiritually.

That was their test. And that is our test.

Every day, we face the choice to either remain stuck in the habits and mindsets that enslave us or to take a step toward Hashem, toward freedom. It doesn’t have to be a leap, it just has to be a step.

Even after leaving Egypt, Bnei Yisrael still had doubts, still struggled, still fell. But the process of redemption had begun. And that’s all that mattered.

The same is true for us. We don’t have to be perfect to be redeemed. We just have to start walking. Because the moment we take that first step, Hashem is already waiting to take us the rest of the way.