Feb 5, 2021 | Torat Devorah
Rabbi Matthew Berkowitz, of the JTS, relates the following: “If one were asked to identify the most central parashah to Israelite identity and to Judaism, one would certainly point to Parashat Yitro, which describes the moment of revelation at Sinai. This experience transforms a band of former slaves into a “kingdom of priests and a holy nation.” For this reason, it is surprising that this is one of the few parashiyot carrying the name of a non-Israelite. Jethro (Yitro), the esteemed father-in-law of Moses, makes his substantive debut at the opening of this Torah reading. And while we often praise the advice he gives his son-in-law to delegate legal responsibilities, an earlier, more subtle comment often goes unnoticed: while Moses, in recounting the story of leaving Egypt, emphasizes the defeat of the Egyptians (Exod. 18:8), Jethro places his praise elsewhere—the deliverance of the Israelites (Exod. 18:1). How may we learn from Jethro’s words and wisdom?”
Professor Ze’ev Falk of Hebrew University elaborates: “Parashat Yitro expresses a striking alternative to that which appears in the Song of the Sea: “The nations hear, they tremble” (Exodus 15:14). Here, in this parashah, is described a positive relationship from the angle of non-Israelite nations toward ‘choosing’ Israel… Jethro emphasizes “all that God has done for Moses and the Israelites,” while Moses, in his telling of the narrative, underscores what “God has done to Pharaoh and the Egyptians.” For Jethro, the priority is that the Israelites were saved; for Moses, his emphasis is on the defeat of the enemy. This response is typical of one that has been saved from a life-threatening situation, delivered out of the hands of the enemy. It is out of his personal suffering that Moses narrates his story… even though Jethro’s question is simply with regard to their rescue. (Divrei Torah Ad Tumam, 155).
Mr. Berkowitz concludes: “While Professor Falk is psychologically astute in acknowledging Moses’s response, he is also exceedingly sensitive in underscoring the import of Jethro’s words and behavior. Defeat of the enemy is crucial, but more important is saving a nation entrusted with a sacred mission. Not only does Jethro bless the Israelite God for having rescued these lives, but he also offers sacrifices (Falk notes, too, that this is tantamount to making a covenant with the Israelites). Simple, wise actions and words by a non-Israelite compel Moses and us to eschew celebrating the destruction of another people and to look forward—affirming life and building (prefiguring the teaching that “one should not rejoice at the downfall of one’s enemy” (Prov. 24:17). Perhaps naming the parashah after a non-Israelite is a deliberate message from the Rabbis. Juxtaposed to the oppressive Egyptians, Jethro presents us with a caring and inspiring model, reminding us that relationships among Jews and non-Jews are a blessing to us and to the world.”
In the third month… that same day they came into the wilderness of Sinai (19:1)
A most puzzling thing in the Talmud’s account is the fact that on the first day of Sivan—the day on which the people of Israel arrived at the place where they would receive the Torah—“Moses did not say anything at all to them, on account of their exhaustion from the journey.” For six weeks the children of Israel had been eagerly awaiting the most important event in their history—their receiving of the Torah from G‑d. Our sages tell us that they literally counted the days (hence our annual practice of “counting the Omer” during the weeks that connect Passover to Shavuot). Does it make sense that on the very day they arrived at Mount Sinai they would do nothing at all in preparation for the great day? The Lubavitcher Rebbe explains: “At Sinai, the divine wisdom was revealed to man. Obviously, the human mind cannot attain the divine wisdom on its own—that must be given to it by G‑d Himself. So although G‑d instructed us to study His Torah, desiring that human intellect should serve as the vehicle by which we apprehend His truth, a crucial prerequisite to Torah study is the mind’s total abnegation of its ego. Only after it has voided itself of all pretension that it is capable of attaining the truth of truths on its own, can the mind become a “fit vessel” to receive it. In the words of the sages, “An empty vessel can receive; a full vessel cannot receive.” So the day on which “Moses did not say anything at all to them” was an integral part of their preparations for receiving the Torah. This was the day on which they undertook the most “exhausting journey” of emptying their souls of intellectual vanity and making themselves fit receptacles for the divine truth.”
Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim
Jan 29, 2021 | Torat Devorah
In this week’s parshah, the Israelites are finally freed of the long arm of Pharaoh. Prior to their freedom, they did acquire two very basic mitzvot: the brit milah – circumcision, and the Paschal sacrifice. Observance of Pesach and performance of circumcision are a statement of affiliation with G-d and Israel. Beyond basic affiliation, what’s next? How does a Jew get started on the path of Torah?
The very first place in which Israel learned new laws was in Marrah, Sinai Desert. The Torah states that there “He placed a law (chok) and a statute.” Rashi writes that the law or chok which was beyond comprehension (as indicated by the word “chok”) was the law of the red heifer, that it purifies the impure and defiles the pure. The statutes they learned were about the various laws governing civil matters, as indicated by the word “statute-mishpat.” There is also indication in the next section of the Torah that they knew about Shabbat at that time. Elsewhere, Rashi indicates that honoring the father and mother were also taught at this juncture.
What is the source for Rashi that Shabbat and honoring the parents was taught here? In the version of the Ten Commandments found in Deuteronomy, they indicate that these two laws were not new but had been taught elsewhere. Since the Torah states in our portion that some laws were taught, we deduce that the laws taught were those mentioned in the Ten Commandments as having been taught, namely honoring Shabbat and parents.
Rabbi Yehudah Amital of Yeshivat Har Etzion of Israel was once asked, “Rabbi, we want to start doing Jewish things. Where do we start?” He answered that our parshah today holds the solution. Our first step in our renewal as Jews should be to enhance our performance of basic laws, honoring the parents and other rational laws which we might think are not rituals, but which are in fact mitzvot. The second thing to do is a mitzvah which is irrational, such as shaatnez, not mixing linen and wool, or kashrut. The third thing to work on is adding meaning to our Shabbat, because Shabbos is at the center of what Judaism is all about.
The Torah tells us that the children of Israel went up from Egypt ‘chamushim’. (13:18).The Midrash explains that the word ‘chamushim’ comes from the root “chamesh”- five.” Only one-fifth (some say 1/500 or 1/5,000) of Bnei Yisrael left Egypt. Those who were rich and did not want to leave died during the plague of darkness. Another Midrash says: “Why did God appear to Moshe from a thorn bush? Because just as the thorn bush is the toughest of all trees, so the enslavement in Egypt was the toughest of all exiles.” R’ Yitzchak Arieli (author of Einayim La’mishpat) observes: It would seem from these sources that only a small fraction of Bnei Yisrael were enslaved in Egypt. However, for those who were enslaved, the enslavement was bitter indeed. Those who led a good life in Egypt did not want to leave, and, therefore, they did not merit leaving. Those who suffered in Egypt and did want to leave merited leaving. Even Datan and Aviram who had tried to get Moshe killed – after they lost their wealth [see Rashi to 4:19] and felt the pain of the exile -wanted to leave and so they merited leaving.
And so it is with every exile – those who want to be redeemed merit to return to the Land of Israel.
Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim
Jan 21, 2021 | Torat Devorah
Pharaoh’s heart remains hardened, and he does not allow the Israelites to leave Egypt. Moses and Aaron go to Pharaoh, and tell him that God will send locusts that “will cover the face of the earth so that one will be unable to see the earth…” (Exodus 10:5). The Alshekh explains that the subject of the words unable to see the earth, are the locusts themselves. These locusts will cover the earth in such density, that they themselves cannot see what they are eating, as they can only see the other locusts around them. Normally, he explains, locusts descend on vegetation closely following the areas, which have seeded and have begun to sprout. In this case, arrival of the locusts will be sudden, and they will cover the whole country simultaneously. This, despite the fact that they will have little to feed on, namely only what the hail has left undamaged. Although they must be hungry, they will only consume what is left ‘lachem’ – to you. They will not touch what belongs to the Israelites, i.e. the province of Goshen. Instead of moving to greener pastures outside Egypt, they will invade the houses, starting with the palace of Pharaoh. The words ‘asher hishir habarad’ – which the hail has left – indicate that what had appeared to the Egyptians as relief at the time, had really been nothing but the preamble to death, as Pharaoh himself describes it in v.17. For the first time, Moses leaves the presence of Pharaoh and his servants without waiting for a response. The servants are so eager to forestall this plague, that they argue with Pharaoh even before Moses could leave the premises. Therefore, Moses and Aaron are recalled for negotiations.
Moses, prior to the departure of the Israelites from Egypt, tells the people: “Speak now in the ears of the people, and let every man ask of his neighbor, and every woman of her neighbor, jewels of silver and jewels of gold (Exodus 11:2). Later on in the parshah, we read that the Israelites did Moses’ bidding. The Torah states (Exodus 12:35-36) that they asked “…the Egyptians for silver and gold jewelry and clothing, as the Lord had made the Egyptians favorably disposed towards the people they let them have what they asked for. Thus they despoiled the Egyptians.” Nechama Leibowitz elaborates and comments that had this deed constituted the private initiative of the Israelites, who had been enslaved, exploited and downtrodden for two centuries. They had been accustomed to the taskmasters’ blows and the casting of their children into the river. Had it been related that they were incapable of taking advantage of the tidings of redemption because of “shortness of spirit and hard work,” that they went and did what they did, despoiling their oppressors and persecutors, no explanation would have been called for. The Torah describes the generation of the wilderness without any idealization, with all its slave mentality, ingratitude, lack of faith and longing for the fleshpots.
In this too, they would have been true to form. But this is not what is related here. On the contrary, Leibowitz reminds us that we are told that the deed they committed was not the fruit of their initiative, but was in response to an explicit, Divine command, transmitted through Moses. In the verse in 11:2, Rashi enlightens us regarding the true significance of one small Hebrew word appended to the Divine expression of command; a word not usually found in the context of orders and precepts. He refers the word na, an expression of request corresponding to the English “please” and usually translated as “I pray thee,” but here rendered by the word “now”. Rashi comments as follows: Na in this context is an expression of request – please keep on reminding them, so that the righteous man, Abraham, should not say that God kept his promise of afflicting the Israelites (Gen. 15:13), but did not fulfill his promise that “afterward shall they come out with great substance” (IBID, 14). Leibowitz concludes that at this early stage in Abraham’s time, the redemption was coupled with the forecast that the Israelite nation would go forth “with great substance.” Therefore, one must regard this transaction ( of taking the Egyptians’ jewels and possessions), not as the spontaneous, impulsive action of runaway slaves, but the deliberate implementation of a predetermined Divine plan, neither unforeseen nor unexpected.
Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim
Jan 15, 2021 | Torat Devorah
In this week’s parshah we read of Hashem hardening Pharoah’s heart, as the Torah states : “Va’ani Aksheh Es Lev Pharaoh…”(7:3) Many commentators ask why the ‘bechira chofshit’ – the free choice- of Pharaoh was taken away from him. Rashi explains that it was clear to Hashem that the teshuva – repentance of Pharaoh would not be b’lev shalem (sincere). If Pharaoh would have been given the choice, he would have attempted an insincere teshuva. At that point, to punish him would seem unfair to the world, yet such a teshuva would still not exempt him from punishment. Therefore, Hashem removed his free choice so that the world could recognize the truth and wonders of Hashem. Rashi further notes that in the first five plagues, the Torah says that Pharaoh himself hardened his own heart. Only in the last five makot is it written “Vayechezak Hashem es lev Pharaoh” – “Hashem hardened the heart of Pharaoh.” Rabbi Mayer Lichtman explains that perhaps Rashi is saying that the proof that there wouldn’t be sincerity with Pharaoh’s teshuva or with the idolatrous nations in general is from the first five makot. Pharaoh had a good opportunity to change his wicked ways with the lessons and blows dealt to him and Mitzrayim in the first makot. By hardening his own heart – he proved his intention – his lev shalem was to hurt the Israelites. It was not for some economical or political excuse – it was a hatred that ran deep in his heart. When Hashem hardened his heart during the last five plagues, it was merely a result of Pharaoh’s own hardening during the first makot. If Pharaoh would have done teshuva during the final makot, it would have been heartless and meaningless.
Generally, the difficulty of making the right choice lies in one allowing the logic of mind to overcome the desire of the heart. When one continuously makes the correct choices, his heart moves to the right place. When one truly knows or is inclined to listen to the Dvar Hashem, it becomes more effortless to do what is right. As we grow in spirituality the test of bechira changes to higher levels. As Jewish people who have accepted Hashem’s Laws, we should all be able to try and comprehend the punishments doled out to Egypt and other nations, and try to elevate our hearts to serve Hashem as best we can.
Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim
Jan 7, 2021 | Torat Devorah
Why, out of all places, did God reveal himself to Moshe (Moses) through the burning bush – sneh (Exodus 3:2)? One possibility is that the experience seems to be a microcosm of God’s ultimate revelation to the entire Jewish people. Note the similarity in sound between sneh and Sinai, the mountain where God speaks to the Jewish people. Indeed, the revelation at the sneh and Sinai occurred in the same place – the desert of Horev. Both unfolded through the medium of fire. At the sneh, it was a fire that was not consumed. (Exodus 3:2) At Sinai, it was a smoke that engulfed the entire mountain. (Exodus 19:18)
There are other approaches that understand the sneh as symbolic either of Egypt or the Jewish people. On the one hand it was akin to Egypt. Just as it is difficult to remove the hand from a thorn bush without lacerating the skin, so was it impossible to escape the “thorn bush” known as Egypt without some amount of pain and suffering. (Mekhilta, beginning of Shemot)
On the other hand, the sneh can be viewed as representative of the Jewish people. In Egypt, the Jews were stripped of all goods, feeling lowly, so low it was as if they were driven into the ground. The sneh is also simple without any fine branches or leaves and is so close to the ground.
Rabbi Avi Weiss explains: “But the meaning of sneh that resonates most powerfully sees the sneh as symbolic, not of Sinai or of Egypt or of Israel, but of God. As long as Jews were
enslaved, God could only reveal Himself in the lowly burning bush in the spirit of “I am with my people in their pain.” God cannot be in comfort as long as His people are in distress. (Rashi quoting Tanhuma 14). And we, created in God’s image, must emulate His ways. At times of suffering for our people, we must empathize with them. Empathy differs from sympathy. In sympathy I remain who I am and you remain who you are. The one feels for the other. Empathy means a merger of the two into one. Your pain is my pain, your suffering is my suffering and your joy is my joy. As we frequently hear of tragedies around the world, we dare not become desensitized to the horror which unfolds. For many it is business as usual. The sneh teaches it shouldn’t be this way. If God feels our anguish, so too should we feel the anguish of others. Only when feeling the pain will we, as God did here in the Book of Exodus, be impelled to act and do our share to bring relief and redemption to the suffering of our people.”
Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim
Dec 31, 2020 | Torat Devorah
Jacob gathers his 12 sons to receive a blessing. But first, Jacob calls upon two of his grandchildren – Joseph’s sons Ephraim and Menashe – to receive blessings. Why would Jacob place priority on blessing grandchildren over children? The commentators explain that even more than the joy of having children is the joy of having grandchildren. Why is this so? Most creatures in the world have parent-child relationships – whether it is a mother lion protecting her cubs or a mother bird feeding her young. But only the human being has a concept of grandchildren, of perpetuation beyond a single
generation. This is an effect of our spiritual soul which is rooted in infinity. Being a grandparent therefore connects us deeply to our uniqueness as human beings.
There is further significance to Jacob’s blessings. Rabbi Shraga Simmons explains that one of the most beautiful customs in Jewish life is for parents to bless their children at the start of the Friday night Shabbat meal. Girls receive the blessing: “May God make you like the matriarchs Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah.” Boys, meanwhile, are blessed “to be like Ephraim and Menashe.” What happened to the patriarchs Abraham, Isaac and Jacob Rabbi Simmons asks? Why were Ephraim and Menashe chosen instead as the subjects of this important tradition? In actuality, Ephraim and Menashe were the first set of Jewish brothers who did not fight. Abraham’s two sons – Isaac and Ishmael – could not get along, and their disagreement forms the basis of the Arab-Israeli conflict until today. The next generation of Isaac’s two sons – Jacob and Esav – was so contentious that Esav repeatedly sought to kill Jacob and instructed his descendants to do the same. And even the next generation of Jacob’s sons sold Joseph into slavery in Egypt. Ephraim and Menashe represent a break from this pattern. This explains why Jacob purposely switched his hands, blessing the younger Ephraim before the older Menashe. Jacob wished to emphasize the point that with these siblings, there is no rivalry. (See Genesis 48:13-14) It is with this thought that parents bless their children today. For there is no greater blessing than peace among brothers. The words of King David ring true: “How good and pleasant is it for
brothers to sit peacefully together.”(Psalms 133:1)
A further question arises regarding the blessing that Jacob gave Joseph’s sons. Why is so much emphasis placed upon Ephraim and Menashe when so little is known about them? It would seemingly make more sense to say, “May Hashem make you like Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob”, parallel to the blessing given to girls, “May Hashem make you like Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel, and Leah.” Just like we bless our daughters to be like the Matriarchs, why don’t we bless our sons to be like the Patriarchs?
Yoel Feilner, a graduate of yeshiva Atlanta, explains: Ephraim and Menashe grew up in the lap of Egyptian royalty. Their father, Joseph, was second in command of the greatest empire at that time. Their lives were drowned in Egyptian culture, making it very easy for them to assimilate. It is for this reason, explains Rabbi Yehudah Leib Ginzberg, the late rabbi of Denver, Colorado, that we bless our children to be like Ephraim and Menashe. Although they were raised in the foreign, hostile environment of Egypt, they did not assimilate. They remained true to their faith, even in a society filled with so many temptations. Jacob knew that in the future, his children, the Jewish people, would be spread around the world, often in difficult surroundings. Therefore, Jacob prayed that regardless of their situation, Jewish children should remain loyal to the Torah, just as Ephraim and Menashe did in Egypt.
Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim
