Jewish tradition understands darkness not merely as the absence of light, but as a source of fear and moral uncertainty. Our rabbis teach that when Adam first saw the darkness of the day descending, he cried out, “Woe is me! Because I sinned the world is darkening for me and will return to chaos “(Avodah Zarah 8a).
Adam wept through the night, fearful of what the darkness might bring. As the sun rose again, he realised that such was the way of nature.
We echo Adam’s primordial dread as we begin our evening liturgy, the Ma’ariv service, with the words Vehu Rachum, “being merciful, God forgives sin and does not destroy”. As night falls, we plead with God for forgiveness and protection through the darkness of the night ahead.
For the Egyptians, who worshipped the sun as their source of life and wellbeing, the plague of darkness was the most terrifying yet. This plague was debilitating with darkness so thick that one could not see their own hand when they held it in front of their face.
Commentators suggest that this plague was not just physical, it was also emotional, leading to moral paralysis. In the darkness, the Egyptians became unable, or unwilling, to see the pain and distress of their neigbours.
They became increasingly selfish, each person only worrying about their household, deepening the darkness. Through their failure to reach out and care for one another, the plague was prolonged and the darkness lingered.
The plague of darkness becomes a message to us. When we choose to turn a blind eye towards the suffering of others, we bring a darkness into the world. Yet we are offered another model, the ability to bring light.
Genesis Rabbah (12:6) tells a second story of Adam, once again afraid as darkness descends. But this time, rather than waiting around for the light to appear the next morning, God gave Adam two flints. Adam strikes them against one another and light came forth.
These two stories of Adam are similar, yet profoundly different. In one Adam fears the dark and waits passively for it to pass, as is nature’s way. In the second Adam becomes an active partner in dispelling the dark.
When darkness strikes, we too have a choice. Do we act like the Egyptians who deepened and prolonged the plague of darkness with their self-centred attitude? Or do we act, reaching out to others to create light?
Image: The Ninth Plague, Darkness, Gustave Doré (Wikimedia Commons)
To get more from judaism, click here to sign up for our free daily newsletter.