Passover is above all a story, an appeal to the imagination and to memory. We don’t just think and talk about Passover, but we picture and reenact and memorialize it. Ironically, one of the advantages of our current COVID shutdown is that he helps us imagine the “night of watching” in Egypt.

Yitzchak, already a young man, understood what was happening, even though he never heard the initial command: “Take now your son, your only son, the beloved one, Isaac, and go for yourself (Lech Lecha) to the land of Moriah, and offer up the gift that goes up there, on one of the mountains that I will show you” (Gen 22:2).

Many years ago, when I was a much younger man, I was earnestly seeking God’s will for my vocation. I agonized in prayer for weeks. I can remember praying about this as I was driving to my mother’s house one Sunday and God said to me, undeniably, “Do what you want!”

“God is merciful and forgiving” is the bottom line of our parasha, and probably of most Torah portions. In Exodus 33:14, we get a glimpse of the great mercy, forgiveness, and love that God had for his covenant people: “Then he (God) responded (to Moshe): “My face will go (on the journey to Israel with the people), and I will lead you!”

In Parashat Tetzaveh we get the first explicit mention of Aaron and his sons as priests of Israel. The first order of business seems to be their wardrobe: “Make sacral vestments for your brother Aaron, for dignity and adornment” (28:3). As they say, “The ephod makes the man,” and Aaron’s family gets an entire chapter devoted to the rich attire that signifies its priestly role.

What happens when God shows up? The book of Exodus is a powerful series of answers to this question. This week’s parasha, Terumah, describes the various furnishings of the Tabernacle, prompting another tantalizing question: What happens when God moves in next door?

The story of our relationship with God is told through our lives, and our lives are the only book that some people will ever read about God. What kind of book do we want people to read from our lives—a law code or one that stems from and exhibits the same grace Hashem gave to Israel when he established a relationship with us?

Parashat Yitro can aid us in better understanding how people come to faith in the God of Israel and his Messiah. That process is surprising and we have much to learn.

When the Israelites left Egypt they did not have a choice about their route. They moved according to the Lord’s plan. We can learn much that is applicable to our own life journey from the opening verses of this week’s Torah portion.