Feb 21, 2025 | Torat Devorah
Six days shall you accomplish your activities, and on the seventh day you shall desist… and your maidservant’s son and the sojourner may be refreshed.” (23:12)
Possibly one of the least understood areas of Shabbat observance is amira l’akum — hinting to a non-Jew to do something for a Jew that the Jew him or herself cannot do because of Shabbat. The basic premise of this prohibition is to preserve the other-worldly quality of Shabbat, for it would be all too easy to employ a non-Jew to continue one’s weekday activities without contravening a single Torah law. In other words, you could turn Shabbat into Saturday. For example, many people assume that if the circuit breaker trips and the lights go out at the Shabbat night meal one could hint to a non-Jew to turn them on again. This is not true. Except in certain specific cases, a Jew on Shabbat may not receive any direct benefit from the melacha (forbidden Shabbat action) of a non-Jew. There are many people who would never dream of allowing a cheeseburger to cross the portals of their dwelling (let alone the portals of their lips) but would cheerfully hint to the maid to turn the lights on on Shabbat Ignoring this prohibition, however, can lead to dire consequences — and not just in the world-to-come.
Rabbi David Ribiat relates the following story: Around the year 1800, there was a large fire in the city of Maerkisch-Friedland. Much of the Jewish quarter was destroyed and many homes had to be rebuilt. Rabbi Akiva Eiger, the rabbi of the city, issued a proclamation advising those rebuilding their homes to stipulate in their contracts with the builders that no work should be done on Shabbat or Yom Tov. The community was united in its observance of Rabbi Akiva Eiger’s degree, with one exception. The president of the community, who was extremely wealthy, wanted his house rebuilt as quickly as possible, and instructed his workers to work non-stop through Shabbat and Yom Tov. The protestations of the community and even the Rabbi himself fell on deaf ears, and the work proceeded unabated. Shocked by this flagrant breach of Halacha, Rabbi Akiva Eiger was heard to say that he did not expect the house to last very long.
Not only was the president’s house the first to be completed; it was undoubtedly the finest of the new homes.
Not long afterwards, and without any previous warning, one of the beams of the president’s mansion suddenly crashed to the ground. A subsequent investigation revealed that the beam was riddled with timber decay. Not only this, but the wooden frame of the mansion was similarly affected and the entire structure had to be demolished. A check was made of all the other re-built buildings, but not one of them showed the slightest inclination to dry rot. The engineers were at a loss to explain why only this particular house, built at the same time and from the same timber supply, was affected. The Jews of Maerkisch-Friedland, however, were in no doubt about the answer to this puzzling enigma.
Devorah Abenhaim
Feb 14, 2025 | Torat Devorah
The revelation at Mount Sinai – the central episode not only of the parshah of Yitro, but of Judaism as a whole was unique in the religious history of mankind. Other faiths (Christianity and Islam) have claimed to be religions of revelation, but in both cases the revelation of which they spoke was to an individual (“the son of God”, “the prophet of God”). Only in Judaism was God’s self-disclosure not to an individual (a prophet) or a group (the elders) but to an entire nation, young and old, men, women and children, the righteous and not yet righteous alike. From the very outset, the people of Israel knew something unprecedented had happened at Sinai. As Moses put it, forty years later: “Ask now about the former days, long before your time, from the day God created man on earth; ask from one end of the heavens to the other. Has anything so great as this ever happened, or has anything like it ever been heard of? Has any other people heard the voice of God speaking out of fire, as you have, and lived? (Deut. 4: 32-33).”
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks explains: “For the great Jewish thinkers of the Middle Ages, the significance was primarily epistemological. It created certainty and removed doubt. The authenticity of a revelation experienced by one person could be questioned. One witnessed by millions could not. God disclosed His presence in public to remove any possible suspicion that the presence felt, and the voice heard, were not genuine.Looking however at the history of mankind since those days, it is clear that there was another significance also – one that had to do not with religious knowledge but with politics. At Sinai a new kind of nation was being formed and a new kind of society – one that would be an antithesis of Egypt in which the few had power and the many were enslaved. At Sinai, the children of Israel ceased to be a group of individuals and became, for the first time, a body politic: a nation of citizens under the sovereignty of God whose written constitution was the Torah and whose mission was to be “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.”
In Exodus 20:15, the Torah states: “And the people saw the voices”. The obvious question asked is how does a person ‘see’ a voice? Midrash Lekach Tov and Rashi explain that the Israelites saw what is ordinarily heard, and heard what is ordinarily seen. The Lubavitcher Rebbe expounds on this idea as follows: “As physical beings, we “see” physical reality. On the other hand, Godliness and spirituality is only something that is “heard” — it can be discussed, perhaps even assimilated to some extent, but not experienced first hand. At the revelation at Sinai, we “saw what is ordinarily heard” — we experienced the divine as an immediate, tangible reality. On the other hand, that which is ordinarily “seen” — the material world — was something merely “heard,” to be accepted or rejected at will.
Why was Moshe so close to his father – in – law, a heathen priest, that the Parsha of the Divine Revelation bears his name? It is almost as if Moshe in his greatest moment of glory takes a back seat so that Yitro can be in the limelight. Even before Moshe leaves Midian to return to Egypt to start his mission he requests permission from Yitro. “Moshe left and returned to his father in law, Jethro. I would like to leave and return to my people in Egypt… Go in peace, said Jethro”(4:18). It is almost as if the redemption was dependent on Yitro’s good wishes. This is all the more startling if we accept the Midrashic teaching that Yitro was actually one of Pharaoh’s advisors and was actually bothered by the destruction of Egypt. Rabbi Jay Kelman comments: It appears that Moshe ‘s indebtedness to Yitro can be explained by Moshe’s tremendous feelings of gratitude toward Yitro. Moshe, after killing an Egyptian who was attacking a Jew, is forced to flee Egypt. Where was he to go? Moshe fled to Midian, stopping at the well presumably evaluating his limited options. Seeing an injustice perpetrated against a group of young women, he rises to their defence and risking further problems, draws water for them. Thinking only of their good fortune and not wanting to risk revenge, the women leave him there and go home. Yitro, their father, would not accept such ingratitude. “Where is he now? He asked his daughter. Why did you abandon the stranger? Call him, and let him have something to eat.” (3:20). Yitro, at least in Moshe’s mind had saved his life. Furthermore he gave him his daughter as a wife. A man who would welcome a stranger into his home and care for him is one who merits association with revelation.
Devorah Abenhaim
Feb 7, 2025 | Torat Devorah
In this week’s parshah, we read of the Israelites departure from Egypt. Pharaoh, the Torah tells us “Had a change of heart” (Exodus 14:5), and decides to pursue the Israelites. The Or Hachayyim comments that an interesting way of looking at this is that when the news reached Pharaoh that the Israelites had “fled”, Pharaoh reconsidered his premise that the Israelite God was all-knowing and all-powerful. This God apparently had been forced to use deception because he was not omnipotent. This is why He kept His intention that the Israelites should depart permanently, a secret up until now. The Torah advisedly speaks of the “levav”, a “dual heart” of Pharaoh undergoing a change. Pharaoh’s considerations were due to conflicting feelings (i.e. two hearts). Originally, Pharaoh had thought that God was unable to orchestrate the Israelites’ exodus. Otherwise, Moses and Aaron would not have had to beg him to let the Israelites go. Next, Pharaoh convinced himself that God’s love for the Jewish people might only be temporary. In the meantime, Pharaoh had come to realize that his estimate of God liking the Jewish people only temporarily had also been wrong. As a result of both considerations of telling him to let the Israelites go, he had done so in the firm belief that there was nothing he could do to stop this process. Now, in retrospect, he realized that he had been wrong after all about the fact that God had lacked the power to orchestrate the Exodus without help from Pharaoh himself. This is why he decided to mount the pursuit.
Pharaoh’s army began their pursuit after the Israelites. The Israelites, seeing the Egyptians close behind them, became frightened. They tell Moses in Exodus 14: 11-13 that they would have rather died in Egypt than in the desert, and that they would have preferred to remain slaves than be killed by the Egyptians. Moses tells the Israelites not to worry, and that “God will do battle for you” (Exodus 14:14). God responds to these events by asking Moses, “Why are you crying out to me?” (Exodus 14:15). The Alshekh asks a flurry of questions about this verse: 1) why did God tell Moses not to cry out, when it had been the people who had cried out, and not Moses? 2) Why did God not tell the people ‘Do not be afraid?!’ instead of ‘keep moving!’ and afterwards that they should move? 3) The word ve-attah, and you, in v.15 and the word va-ani, and I, inverse 17 seem unnecessary, especially since God had already said hineni, I am here? The Alshekh explains that Moses had commenced praying, and had said “God will fight on your behalf.” God said why do you pray to Me? This implies that My (God’s) children are NOT entitled to be saved except by an act of mercy. Let them display faith by marching on, before the sea is split, and justice will save them! The ve-attah, and you, means that in case the children of Israel think that you can perform miracles ONLY with the staff of God. He tells Moses that he should raise his hand over the sea and only then will it be split. Moses was to divest himself of the staff at the moment. There is a tradition, the Alsekh explains, that the reason the Egyptians chose to kill the Jewish babies by drowning was that they knew that the God of the Jews makes the punishment fit the crime. At the same time, they knew of God’s oath not to bring on another deluge. They reasoned that by drowning the Jewish baby boys, they could make themselves immune from retribution. God demonstrated that instead of His bringing on a deluge, the Egyptians themselves would walk into the equivalent of an existing deluge. They had also seen in their horoscope that the Jewish savior would meet his death through water. Therefore, they had decreed a watery death for babies born around the time indicated by the horoscope. Once that date had passed, the decree had been cancelled, since they had considered the potential Jewish savior as having met his death already. God was intent to demonstrate that, on the contrary, the Jewish savior would be the one who would orchestrate the watery death of the Egyptian army. Had Moses split the sea with the staff, no one would have known that it was Moses, the intended victim of the water, who had turned the tables and had victimized the Egyptians be water. The miracle would simply have been ascribed to God’s rod, to the intrinsic power of that instrument. In order for the Egyptians to commit the folly of pursuing Israel through the sea, several things had to occur. Surely, the Egyptians seeing the miracle could not have assumed that it was FOR THEIR benefit. So why did they put themselves at risk? Also, if they assumed that the splitting of the sea had NOT been a miracle, but a freak of nature, how could they take a chance that it would last long enough for them to catch the Israelites, defeat them and herd them back to Egypt? In addition to Moses’ hand and an act of faith by the Israelites who entered the water before it was split, an act of God was needed to cause the Egyptians to expose themselves to the crushing waters when the time came. THIS act by God is what He refers to in v.17, when it says as for me, i.e. va-ani, “here I will greatly strengthen the heart of Pharaoh.” God’s contribution is the greatest, in that He will cause Pharaoh’s desire for revenge and loot to overcome his common sense, and pursue Israel into the depth of the seabed. The rest of mankind will honor God, in turn, when they will reflect on how Pharaoh’s punishment corresponded to his crime. The Egyptians, who will know that I am the merciful God, will be those who had remained behind in Egypt, who had not been punished now, as they had not been as guilty as those who had pursued Israel.
Devorah Abenhaim
Jan 31, 2025 | Torat Devorah
We read two puzzling statements as God prepares to exact the plagues in this week’s parasha. “And I will pass through Egypt … and I will smite every first-born … and I will exact judgments against all the gods of Egypt. I am God” (Exodus 12:12). Moreover, on that night, “[T]here will be a great cry throughout all Egypt, the like of which never before has been and never again will be. [But] against the Children of Israel no dog shall sharpen its tongue, [not at] a man and [not at] an animal” (Exodus 11:6-7). Two questions arise: First, if there are no other gods besides Him, how can Hashem say he will “exact judgments” against gods that do not exist? Second, what’s with the dogs? We often speak of the Torah as bearing a universal message to all generations, conveying that a Torah message uttered thousands of years ago remains relevant. But here, with these two baffling references that God will exact judgments against gods that do not exist, and the particular emphasis that all dogs will be silent during the tenth plague, perhaps we should reorient the usual approach. Instead of understanding that an ancient image speaks to us today, consider that a Torah image meaningful now was also relevant millennia ago. The god of all life in Egypt was the Nile River, and God Almighty began the plagues by smiting the Nile. The goddess of childbirth in the Egyptian pantheon, the frog goddess Heqet, stood as matron saint of fertility and protector of newborns. So, Hashem directed the second plague at frogs. Other Egyptian gods were assigned to protect the fertility of the land, the animals, the environment. Consequently, one by one, each such god was “smitten,” rendered “powerless” as all-natural order fell before Egyptian eyes. Lice from the ground. Wild animals from out of nowhere.
Rabbi Dov Fischer of Orange County expounds: “There were Egyptian gods conceived as multiannual amalgams. Setekh, for example, had a long snout, pointy ears, a greyhound’s body and an upright tail. But God Almighty rendered judgment over such gods during the fourth plague (arov: mixed animals). Likewise, there was a goddess depicted with a cow’s head, Hathor. The fifth plague nullified cattle. And so, it went. Osiris, the vegetation goddess, could not protect vegetables and fruit from the hail and locust plagues. One by one, every Egyptian god and goddess was eviscerated. Thus, Hashem “exacted judgments” against the “gods of Egypt.” Finally, the darkness. Anubis was a dog- or jackel-God associated with the cult of the dead. “Together with the other canine deities … he presided over the desert of the west, the necropolis land where wolves and jackals lurked, and all were regarded as tombs,” according to Encyclopedia Britannica. Meanwhile, the Egyptian pantheon’s central characters included the sun god, Ra, who “was thought to sail the sky in his boat, and at night to traverse the underworld, battling as he went with the forces of darkness.” As each supposed god in the Egyptian pantheon was overcome, might a believing Egyptian yet place hope in the sun god Ra? Maybe. Each morning, his success in battling the forces of darkness was confirmed with the rising sun. And then came the ninth plague. Through those three days of darkness, Ra ostensibly had been vanquished, leaving Egyptians to rationalize, consistent with their theology, that the dog-gods of death and darkness perhaps now held sway. Moses had warned Pharaoh this all would come to pass by the hand of the God of Israel. But stubborn Egyptian pantheists, typified by pitiful sorcerers who tried competing until skin-boils sent them packing (Exodus 9:11), continued seeking an Egyptian-centric explanation. Perhaps it might have been tempting to attribute sun god Ra’s defeat in this catastrophic war of the gods to the powers of darkness, the gods of the necropolis, who finally had defeated him. Indeed, with the next plague — mass death, delivered with stunning accuracy only to first-born males — it may have seemed certain that the dog-gods of death had conquered, vanquishing all others. It was their night of death to demonstrate their awesome power, their control of everything and their victory over the other gods. Only one thing: Not a dog whetted its tongue at a Jew. No barking. No growling. The dogs were eerily silent throughout the night, as Moses had prophesied. The Egyptians were left with no further explanation. The Ten Plagues had been the hand of God, who had “exacted judgments” against their gods and had silenced their dogs. Now His people, the Children of Israel, had to be freed.”
Devorah Abenhaim
Jan 28, 2025 | Torat Devorah
A number of commentators have raised the question of why the parentage and genealogy of Moshe is not mentioned until the early part of this week’s parsha. In parshat Shemos, we are only told that his father was a man from the House of Levi, and that his mother was a daughter of Levi. In this week’s parsha, Vaeirah, we are not only told their names, but are also presented with the lineage of both Moshe and Aharon. This presentation actually begins with a listing of the children of Jacob’s first three sons, Reuven, Shimon and Levi, and proceeds to trace the lineage of Moshe and Aaron from Levi. What is the place of this presentation in our parsha, and why wasn’t it given earlier? Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch, in his Torah commentary, explains that until this point, Moshe had been unsuccessful in his mission, both to his nation and to Pharaoh, and had complained to God that the nation’s suffering had increased since he spoke to Pharaoh. God reassured him that he would be successful and charged him to proceed with his task together with his brother Aaron. Moshe thus was about to embark on the successful phase of his mission. In order to assure that he would not be perceived, in his role as liberator, as some kind of supernatural being, or deity, the Torah presents us with his exact lineage, to remind us that he was a human being, born of a man and woman.
Rabbi Joshua Hoffman explores the relationship between the Israelites and Moses. He cites the Sefas Emes who explains that Moshe’s ability to speak to the nation depended on the degree of their receptivity. Rabbi Hoffman believes that the nation perceived a sharp difference between Moses and themselves, and were, therefore, not willing to listen to him, at first. The rabbis tell us the tribe of Levi was not subjected to bondage, and that is how Moses and Aaron were always able to visit Pharaoh when they needed to deliver their message to him. Perhaps, he explains, this is what the Torah means when it says that the people did not listen to Moses because of shortness of spirit and hard work. They did not wish to accept Moses and Aaron as their leaders because, they felt, they could not appreciate what they were experiencing, since they were exempt from the enslavement. Perhaps Moses and Aaron, they felt, could live as free people, but how could they? Rabbi Kook, in his commentary to the Pesach Haggadah, writes that the Egyptians, through enslaving the Jews, effected their self-perception. This is the meaning, he says, of a verse recited by the farmer, when bringing his first fruits to the Temple. Recapitulating the enslavement in Egypt, the farmer says, “Vayareiu osanu ha- Mitzrayim,” usually translated as “And the Egyptians mistreated us.” (Deuteronomy, 26: 6). Rav Kook, however, explains it to mean that the Egyptians caused us to view ourselves as bad people. Moses and Aaron needed to assure the nation that they were, indeed, worthy of being free people. It is for this reason, Rabbi Hoffman believes, that their lineage is given at this point, and as part of the general genealogy of Jacob’s family.
In The Garden of The Torah, the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, explains to us the Hebrew word “Mitzrayim” – Egypt, which is related to the Hebrew word for “boundaries” or “limitations”: Mitzrayim is a paradigm for what exile is and the essence of our spiritual challenge. The world was created as a dwelling place for Hashem and our souls are a part of Hashem. Yet, we often overlook this as we are caught in the exile of our material world and daily routine which shapes our thoughts. However, Hashem doesn’t allow this exile to continue indefinitely. In Mitzrayim, Hashem revealed Himself through the plagues, thereby transforming the Jewish people’s thinking. But what about us? Hashem said, “I revealed myself to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob”; Rashi comments “to the Patriarchs”. His comment, which seems redundant, is actually reinforcing that, by revealing Himself to our forefathers, Hashem make the awareness of His existence a fundamental element in their make-up (and the make-up of their descendants for all time). In every generation, Hashem sparks this awareness by performing acts transcending the natural order; some are obvious to us (e.g., the Gulf War, Entebbe, re-birth of Israel, the fall of Communism); others are not. By these acts, Hashem reveals Himself to us, allowing us to transform the limits of our “exile” and take in the awareness of His presence. We must open our eyes.
Devorah Abenhaim
Jan 17, 2025 | Torat Devorah
In this week’s parshah, we read of the Israelite people in Egypt, and their quick and rapid growth. The Torah tells us that Pharaoh, as a result, said to his people: “Look, the Israelite people have become too many and too strong for us. Come; let us deal shrewdly with them, lest they increase. And if war breaks out, they will join our enemies, and fight against us and leave the country”” (Exodus 9-10). Nechama Leibowitz asks the following question: Why did Pharaoh, the ruler of the Egyptian empire require to look for pretexts ‘to deal wisely’ with the helpless Jewish minority in his realm? Why could he not destroy them with fire and sword without further ado? Who was to gainsay him? The following is the Ramban’s answer detailing Pharaoh’s policy, with regard to all the stages of his plan: “Pharaoh and his advisors did not regard it as a wise step to put the Israelites to the sword; for this would have constituted rank treason to persecute a people without cause, that had come to the land at the bidding of his royal predecessor. Moreover, the people of the land would not have allowed the king to commit this violence since he had to consult them (all the more so in view of the fact that the Children of Israel were a mighty and numerous people who would make war with them). He later suggested looking for a device by which the Israelites should not feel any hostile act was being committed against them. For this reason, he imposed on them a tax; for it was a custom of strangers in a country to pay a tax to the king. Afterwards, he secretly ordered the midwives to put to death the male children on the birthstools when even the mothers themselves did not know what was going on. Then, he commanded all of his people that they should cast every male child into the river. He did not give such an order to his chief executioners to slay them by the sword at the royal bidding, or to cast them into the river. Rather, he told the people to do so, and that if the father of the child were to protest to the king or his representative, they should ask him to bring evidence to substantiate his accusation and for vengeance to be done. When the king allowed matters to take their course, The Egyptians searched Jewish homes and even took the children from there. That is the implication of the statement and they could no longer hide him.” Leibowitz explains that the originality of Ramban’s interpretation lies in his explanation of the command to kill every male child. The text states that Pharaoh commanded “all his people” rather than “his princes and servants”. This was not therefore an official royal edict, but behind-the-scenes provocation. The government gave no order, but merely closed its eyes whilst the Egyptian masses “spontaneously” vented their indignation on the foreigners. Although Egyptian law protected strangers, in practice there would be no redress. This situation would be just as Ramban outlined.
We read that despite Pharaoh’s plans to stem Jewish growth at the outset of the parshah, “They increased in proportion to the repressive measures” (Exodus 1:12). The Alshekh comments that when the Egyptians realized that the Jewish population explosion was not a natural phenomenon, (since the Jews increased EVEN MORE after preventive measures had been imposed on them), they changed their policy and applied perech, i.e. peh rach,persuasion rather than coercion. The nation is described as benay Yisroel, to reflect that the Egyptians had become aware of a God who was on their side. They were afraid of punishment – vayakutzu mipney – they were full of dread on account of this. The Egyptians were anxious to lead the Jewish people into sin, so that they would forfeit the protection of their God. They embittered their lives (Exodus 1:14) – this means that the Egyptians used all means at their disposal to make the Jews reject their fate. They did all this in a manner that did not make the Jews feel coerced, and they hoped that the Jewish people’s God would have no sympathy for them.
Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim
