I was looking for some notes from an almost-forgotten report I had written many years ago, and found myself searching through some very old emails from a little-used hotmail account several days ago.

I came across an old story I had saved back in 2003 - which I am not sure I ever used - that struck me as so apropos to our collective experience and our constant striving to emulate the divine.

Somewhere in Eastern Europe, a miserly man went swimming in a river. Soon, he felt himself drowning. He called out to a passerby, "Help! Save me! I'm drowning!".

Replied the man, "Gib mir dein hant, Give me your hand."

Said the miser, "Ich ken nisht, I can't."

"Gib mir dein hant!" shouted the man.

"Ich ken nisht gebben, I cannot give."

"Nem mein hant, Take my hand."

The miser stretched out his hand, saying, "Gebben, ken ich nisht, ubber nemmen, ken ich nemmen, I can't give, but I can take."

Says Reb Shabse, this is the explanation of "Atah nosen yad laposhim v'yemincha peshuta l'kabel shavim, You give a hand to evildoers, and Your right hand is outstretched to accept returnees." This is a familiar phrase we repeat during the high holidays each year.

For those who return, G-d accepts them. But what about those who cannot even initiate that first step to help themselves, and can only take?

G-d gives them his Hand, as it were, to help them out.

What of us, and what of our attempts to emulate divine judgement? Can we know what challenges another person has, and why they need to take at a given moment, instead of give? Clearly, we cannot. And yet we are called to emulate God’s mercy nonetheless, and reach out a hand to our fellow regardless of their capacity to seek or ask, or even give of their own volition or compassion. Maybe it has been depleted by circumstances or surroundings. Maybe, like many of us, the one who at this moment only takes has felt under siege, or sapped of will.

On these latter days of Pesach we celebrate the crossing of the sea and the miraculous liberation of our people from Pharaoh and his army. After 400 years of slavery in Egypt, after using every last bit of energy we had to stand up and begin to trek into the desert, and confronted by a sea at our face and an army at our back, we couldn’t even reach out. So the almighty had to reach out to us - “B’yad chazakah U’bizroah Netuyah” with a strong hand and an outstretched arm - to save us.

If we are truly going to strive to be godly, we have to extend our hand, our generosity, our giving and compassionate nature. It is within each and every one of us to do so.

Shabbat Shalom and Chag Sameach!