One of the most significant statements of the Passover Haggadah—the book used for the Passover service (the Seder)—reads in Hebrew, bekhol dor hayyav adam lirot et atsmo ke’ilu hu yatsa mimitsrayim, which can mean, “All people must consider themselves as if they had come out of Egypt.”
This statement signals that the Seder is not just a commemoration, but a reenactment of the Exodus story. Everyone to whom this service applies must identify with the story told during Passover and consider themselves part of the Israelites who left Egypt.

The Haggadah does not simply focus on the exodus of the Israelites from Egypt but also on their plight as foreigners in another land where they were abused and even enslaved. The identification involved in the retelling and reenactment of the Exodus story is therefore not limited to the redemption from slavery, “We are now free,” but includes Israel’s descent into and dwelling in a foreign land.

 

Indeed, at an important juncture of the Seder, the Haggadah relates that Jacob “went down to Egypt and dwelt there.” The Hebrew verb used here to describe Jacob’s dwelling is gur, which is related to the Hebrew noun, ger—a foreigner, that is, a stranger who resides in another country.

 

A ger may settle in another country because of a war or a famine that has overtaken their native land. Thus Ruth 1:1 states, “There was a famine in the land, so a man from Bethlehem, Judah, left to dwell [gur] in the country of Moab, he and his wife, and his two sons.”

All of the patriarchs and matriarchs of Israel were gerim (the plural of ger). Abraham said, “I am a stranger and alien among you” (Genesis 23:4; NRVSUE). Interestingly, Abraham shares these words while living in Canaan, the land that according to the Torah of Moses was divinely promised to his descendants. Earlier, Abraham had moved to Egypt and stayed there for a time because of a famine that had ravaged the land of Canaan: “And Abraham went down to Egypt to dwell [gur] there, because the famine was heavy in the land” (Genesis 12:10). Isaac knew a similar lot as his father. According to the book of Genesis, another famine forced him to dwell [gur] in Gerar, which belonged to Abimelech, king of the Philistines (26:1, 3). And Jacob, as we have already seen, dwelt in Egypt (cf. Genesis 32:5).

It was the fear of foreigners that led the Pharaoh “who did not know Joseph” to oppress the Israelites:

 

A new king arose over Egypt who did not know Joseph. And he said to his people, “Look, the Israelite people are much too numerous for us. Let us deal shrewdly with them, so that they may not increase; otherwise in the event of war they may join our enemies in fighting against us and rise from the ground.” So they set taskmasters over them to oppress them with forced labor. (Exodus 1:8-11 TNK)

The experience of being a stranger is central to Israel’s collective identity and informs the way they ought to relate to strangers in their own land. Repeatedly, the Torah commands the Israelites to attend to the needs of the foreigners dwelling in their midst and to treat them justly. In fact, the commandment to be fair to the foreigner in the land of Israel is one of the most repeated commandments in the Torah of Moses. This emphasis is inspired by a collective self-understanding of Israel as a nation of immigrants: “You shall not wrong a stranger [ger] or oppress him, for you were strangers [gerim] in the land of Egypt” (Exodus 22:20 TNK).

So fundamental is this national self-perception that the Torah of Moses affirms that the Israelites know what it means to be a stranger in another land: “You shall not oppress a stranger, for you know [yeda’tem] the feelings [nephesh] of the stranger, having yourselves been strangers in the land of Egypt” (Exod. 23:9 TNK). The Hebrew noun nephesh, which the JPS Tanakh (1985) translates as “feelings,” can also mean “life,” “soul,” or “person.” The Israelite identification with the stranger is very personal and is further underscored by the use of the verb yada (“to know”), which conveys an intimate form of acquaintance. Yada, after all, can be used to describe sexual intimacy (Gen. 4:1: “The man knew his wife Eve”). The Israelites know the lot of the stranger from personal experience. They should, therefore, show special concern for the stranger based on their unique understanding of being (or having been) foreigners themselves.

The Israelites’ particular knowledge of the “soul” of the foreigner helps explain why the Torah of Moses stresses so much the imperative to take care of the foreigner in their land, along with the widow and the orphan. Israel’s ancient Near Eastern neighbors also expressed concern for the widow and the orphan (see, e.g., the famous Code of Hammurabi), but the interest in the welfare of the foreigner seems to be unique to ancient Israelite culture. Thus, the Israelites are commanded to love the stranger who dwells in their land, not just their fellow citizens:

 

The stranger [ger] who resides with you shall be to you as one of your citizens; you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I the LORD am your God. (Leviticus 19:34 TNK; emphasis added; cf. Deuteronomy 10:19)

 

Love for the stranger is not solely based on the memory of an experience from the distant past, as if the Israelites used to be strangers when they dwelt in Egypt but are no longer so, now that they reside in their own homeland. In the eyes of Israel’s God, the Israelites are and always will be strangers. When plans were made to build the temple of Jerusalem, David addressed the God of Israel as follows: “We are aliens [gerim] and transients before you, as were all our ancestors; our days on the earth are like a shadow, and there is no hope” (1 Chronicles 29:15; NRSVUE). Even after settling in the land and establishing Jerusalem as their capital, the people of Israel remain “aliens” before their God.

Israel’s ongoing status as foreigners is also expressed in Leviticus 25:23, where Israel’s God warns the people that they cannot sell property in the Holy Land in perpetuity “for the land is Mine; you are but strangers [gerim] resident with Me [imadi]” (TNK). This is a striking passage. In God’s eyes, the Israelites remain strangers even after they settle in the promised land. Although the prepositional construct imadi probably means “before me,” it can also be translated as “with me” (so Targum Pseudo-Jonathan, TNK, NRSVUE, etc.). One of the most famous biblical Psalms states: “Though I walk through a valley of deepest darkness, I fear no harm, for You are with me [imadi]” (Psalm 23:4 TNK).

In later rabbinic texts, we learn that the divine presence even went into exile with Israel, when the temple of Jerusalem was destroyed by the Romans and many Jews were expelled from their homeland. God is with the exiled, with the deported, with the stranger. God is the foreigner.