The image of the ger, or stranger, appears at crucial junctures in the Passover story.
In the Bereishit narratives, it is used to foreshadow the historical trajectory of the nation of Israel in God’s vision to Abraham at Brit Bein Habetarim. “Know well that your offspring shall be strangers in a land not theirs” (Bereishit 15:13). Sefer Shemot clarifies that the key ingredients of the Exodus story are indeed avdut (servitude), inui (oppression) and gerut (being a stranger). The Exodus story unfolds as the children of Israel are oppressed with hard labor in the the strange land of Egypt.
We generally think of a ger as a negative term; it refers to a challenged figure. A stranger in a foreign land is lonely and often treated less well than native-born residents. When Moses names his first born child Gershom, he offers a folk etymology that evokes sympathy for his isolated existence. Moses explains that he has been a stranger (ger) in a strange land but never tells us the specific locale of his isolation. We wonder whether it is Egypt or Midyan or everywhere. As the medieval commentator Don Isaac Abravanel opines, perhaps the biblical Moses is the paradigmatic ger, the epitome of desperation and loneliness.
The legal sections of the Torah similarly portray the ger as a marginal and oppressed member of society. The protection of the ger along with the weak and needy is frequently commanded. Vayikra 19:33 demands:
The stranger who resides with you shall be as one of your citizens; you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.
Devarim 10:17 notes: For the Lord your God…loves the stranger, providing him with food and clothing. You too must love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.
Remembering the alienation of the Hebrew slaves in Egypt is to serve as a motivation for the cultivation of a completely different character in the Israelites. Negative memories of oppression of the foreign Hebrews in Egypt must motivate later generations of Israelites to exercise the very opposite behavior toward the strangers among them. Israelites must be especially careful to treat gerim among them with caring and kindness. My favorite verse in the Torah is (Shemot 23:9): “You know the soul of the ger, for you were gerim in the land of Egypt.”
The examples cited acknowledge the role of the ger in Jewish typology as a negative or marginalized figure. Taking homiletic license, I would suggest an understanding of the Biblical image of the ger that is more positive. Yitzchak is commanded by God: “gur ba-aretz ha-zot, ve’eheyah imcha va-avarechecha—suggesting that being a ger can be a source of blessing. Avraham, who is viewed by Efron of Chet as a prince among men, declares that he is both a ger and a resident in the land of Canaan. Devarim 29:10 assures us that the gerim among Israel were treated as native Israelites; they too took part in the covenant ceremony concluded before Moshe’s demise.
Later Jewish thought also pays tribute to the status of the ger in Jewish typology. One notable example, Rav Soloveitchik, zt”l, explains that the roles of stranger and resident are equally significant to the Jew living in the Diaspora.
“What do we say to the Jew from the West? You are a stranger and a resident…despite your participation in all spheres of social and political life, you must remain a stranger, a Jew, living a different life from others.” (pgs. 75-76).
I suggest that the ger in the Torah is not a negative image but rather a complex one, not desperate but seeking, not downtrodden but aspirational. The ger is an existential being that is never complacent, always aspiring to be better, truer and greater. Being gerim in Egypt inspired the Hebrew slaves to strive for a better life as the nation of Israel; the strangers in Egypt were empowered to become a nation of empathy, Godliness and morality.
On the occasion of Pesach, as we read the Haggadah and remember our salvation from bondage in the strange land of Egypt, it behooves each of us to celebrate the ger within us rather than bemoan our oppressed past. For it is that constant and never disappearing feeling of “strangeness” that discourages complacency in our lives wherever we may live, and encourages our never-ceasing aspiration to be better people.
Know the soul of the ger always: it will make you a better human being! Chag kasher v’sameach!
Rachel Friedman is the dean and founder of Lamdeinu, a center for adult Torah study in Teaneck. Explore our excellent summer program at lamdeinu.org.