(In Lisbon, Leaving Egypt)

Pesah is called zman herutenu, the season of our liberation, but it marks much more than our freedom. The Exodus from Mitzrayim had a purpose. “Say to the Children of Israel: I am the Eternal. I shall bring you out from under the burden of the Egyptians. I shall rescue you from their toil. I shall redeem you with an outstretched arm and with tremendous judgments. I shall take you to me as a people. I shall become your God. You shall know that I , the Eternal, am your God, the on who is bringing you out from under the burdens of Egypt. I shall bring you to the land that I promised to give to Avraham, to Yitzhaq and to Yaakov. I shall give it to you as a possession. I am the Eternal (Ex. 6:6-8).”

One of the great tasks of the last century has been the physical redemption of Jews from various lands and conditions and their immigration/aliyah to the land of Israel. Collectively, the Jewish people have resettled survivors of the Holocaust. We have brought Jews out of the lands of the Levant and Arabia. We have rescued Jews from the former Soviet Union, from Syria, and from Ethiopia. These have been great accomplishments, achievements that rival past movements of redemption. We can be justly proud of the efforts of our people, moving masses of people to new homes and possibilities. Those of us who have been to the former Soviet Union or to Ethiopia, who have stood on the tarmac at ben Gurion airport to welcome refugees arriving in Israel, have felt a sense of what the Haggadah means when it says: “In every generation, one should see oneself as if having personally left Egypt.”

Sometimes the exodus is small and spiritual. Recently, seven people traveled from Lisbon to London to meet with the European Bet Din (rabbinic court) of the Masorti (Conservative) movement. They officially returned to Judaism five hundred years after their ancestors became anusim (those who were forced to convert).  In 1496, four years after the expulsion of the Jews of Spain, King Manuel I of Portugal, in an effort to strengthen his claim on the throne, married a Spanish princess. The Spanish demand for the marriage was that there be no Jews in Portugal. Initially Manuel thought to expel them and some Jews did leave. However, fearing dire economic consequences, Manuel decided to compel conversion for all Jews in Portugal. Somehow, their Jewish heritage and some portion of their traditions surreptitiously survived.

A decade ago, in Belmonte, a group of bnei anusim ("children of those forced," sometimes known by the derogatory term marranos), returned to Judaism under Orthodox auspices. Two years ago in Lisbon, approximately thirty bnei anusim formed a community and organized a synagogue. Supported by a grant from the World Zionist Organization Department of Pluralistic Religious Services, Rabbi Joseph Wernick of Jerusalem and Rabbi Chaim Weiner of London visited the group to provide them with a curriculum for study and practice. Rabbi Jules and Navah Harlow spent two weeks in September and again in December teaching Torah, instructing people in liturgy and mitsvot, and preparing some of the group for conversion.

These bnei anusim, now officially registered as Communidade Judaica Masorti Beit Yisrael, meet in a dilapidated building in space rented from a dwindling synagogue founded by Ashkenazic refugees from Eastern Europe. Until now, the bnei anusim secretly retained vestiges of their Jewish origins. Rabbi Weiner explained, "They had no idea of the Jewish calendar.  Initially they decided that Pesach would be the night the full moon lands in April, but that was too dangerous so they moved it to two days after the full moon. That was a safer time, when people wouldn't be looking for them. They would go to the river and wade back and forth, waving branches over the water. For them, that was the crossing of the Red Sea, the Exodus from Egypt."

Although initially hesitant about the resources to help this community of emerging Jews, Rabbi Weiner said, "Their enthusiasm that made it impossible to refuse them. How could we turn [away] people who say they feel Jewish, who have suffered discrimination as Jews, who keep kosher and want to do more? Their Jewish identity burns inside them. It amazes me." They hold regular Friday-night services and recently celebrated their first Shabbat-morning service. They have been supported by Hebrew classes taught by an Israeli, Jewish history courses by a visiting American professor, and short visits from Rabbis Weiner and Wernick.

Navah Harlow wrote: “Each one has a story to tell. Each story is different, but has a common theme, an almost mystical connection to Judaism that links them to their ancestors. They consider themselves Jews, but understand that they must go through a conversion process to be accepted according to halakhah.”

The Harlows led the community in prayer. “Jules told them that he would davven first, by himself, since they did not comprise a minyan, not being Jews. He then led them in a learner’s service. We taught them traditional and Carlebach melodies. They really go into it when, after we had sung it, Navah spontaneously led everyone in a line dance. They were enraptured. When we met for havdalah, they were proud that many knew the words. They had never heard it chanted. We sang Eliyahu Hanavi with them. They loved it.”

“On our second visit, when we gathered on Friday evening, the warmth and love that filled the air are indescribable. After the service, we took out gifts sent for use on the Shabbat table and read the notes that accompanied them. They were moved, not only by the beauty of the gifts, but also by the fact that Jews in America knew and cared about them. The second Shabbat was exceptional. The kehillah is becoming more and more comfortable with the service.”

At another point, the men who were close to the point of conversion were given sets of tefillin and tallesim. “Jules began to teach about the mitzvah of tefillin. And then the thrill of actually being able to put them on. Some of the men were pretty deft and later helped those who needed help. It was a joy to see how they boasted to each other, ‘my shin is really good.’” As we know, inside of each black box is a reminder of our Exodus from Egypt many years ago. “In each generation, one is obligated to see oneself as if having personally left Egypt.” This group of crypto-Jews left their Egypt after 500 years in hiding.

Recently, Navah asked some friends to provide a kiddush cup for each of the individuals that came to the bet din in London. One couple, who converted and were then married under a huppah, also received a mezuzah case and parchment. We were honored to help this modest campaign. We were participating in a special moment in history. A reminder of the Exodus from Egypt.