Jan 30, 2026 | 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 Shabbas 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 parasha 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 might think are not rituals, but which are in fact mitzvot. The second thing to do is a mitzva 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.
~Devorah Abenhaim
Jan 23, 2026 | Torat Devorah
Parashat Bo describes the dramatic conclusion of the exile in Egypt and the birth of the Jewish nation. The parsha opens with the final three plagues—locusts, darkness, and the death of the firstborn—which break Pharaoh’s resistance once and for all. The plague of darkness was not merely an absence of light, but a tangible, immobilizing darkness that left the Egyptians unable to move or connect with one another, while the Jewish people continued their lives in light. This contrast highlights the difference between a society steeped in spiritual emptiness and a people guided by Divine purpose. At the center of the parsha is the commandment of the Korban Pesach. The Jewish people are instructed to take a lamb—an Egyptian deity—slaughter it, and place its blood on their doorposts. This act was not for Hashem’s sake, but for theirs: a bold, public declaration of faith and a rejection of Egyptian idolatry. Through this mitzvah, Bnei Yisrael demonstrate that true freedom requires courage, identity, and commitment to Hashem, even in the face of danger.
One of the most striking passages in Parashat Bo is Hashem’s opening command to Moshe: “Bo el Pharaoh”—“Come to Pharaoh” (Exodus 10:1). At first glance, the wording seems unusual. Hashem should have said “Lech el Pharaoh”—“Go to Pharaoh.” Why does the Torah use the word bo, which implies coming together? The Zohar offers a profound explanation: Hashem was telling Moshe, “Come with Me.” Moshe was being asked to confront not merely a human king, but the spiritual force of arrogance and oppression that Pharaoh represented. This was not a mission Moshe could undertake alone.
According to the Zohar, Pharaoh embodied the deepest spiritual blockage in the world—a concentration of impurity and ego that resisted Divine truth. By saying bo, Hashem reassured Moshe that he would not face this power independently. Hashem would enter the confrontation with him, guiding and sustaining him. This subtle shift in language teaches that when a person is called upon to confront darkness—whether external or internal—it is only possible with Divine partnership. True strength comes not from personal courage alone, but from knowing that Hashem is present within the struggle.
This insight also reframes the entire Exodus story. Redemption does not begin with physical freedom, but with the willingness to step into fear while trusting in Hashem’s closeness. Moshe’s mission becomes a model for every Jew: when facing challenges that seem overwhelming, Hashem does not simply command us to “go,” but invites us to “come”—to move forward together with Him. In this sense, Parashat Bo teaches that the path to redemption is not walked alone, but hand in hand with the Divine.
A powerful moment in Parashat Bo is the commandment of Kiddush HaChodesh, when Hashem tells Moshe and Aharon, “This month shall be for you the first of months” (Exodus 12:2). The Sfas Emes explains that this mitzvah represents the essence of freedom. In Egypt, the Jewish people had no control over their time; every moment belonged to their masters. By giving them the ability to sanctify the new month, Hashem grants them ownership over time itself. Freedom is not merely the absence of physical bondage, but the ability to infuse time with meaning and holiness. Through Kiddush HaChodesh, the Jewish people become active partners in shaping sacred time, marking the transition from slaves reacting to commands into a nation consciously living with Divine purpose.
~Devorah Abenhaim
Jan 19, 2026 | Torat Devorah, Uncategorized
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-Mitzrim,” 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”: Mitrayim 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 9, 2026 | Torat Devorah
In this week’s Parsha, the Torah says, “A new king arose over Egypt who did not know Joseph.” There are two explanations of this Pasuk. The standard explanation is simply that the old king died. As it had been many years since Yosef’s rise to power and since Yosef was already dead, the new king no longer appreciated Yosef’s contribution to Egypt. Therefore, this new king had no problem with persecuting the Jews. The other explanation is not quite so simple but much more disturbing. Many commentaries say that in fact this was the same king that ruled during Yosef’s rise to power. So why does the Torah say the new king did not know Yosef? Of course this king knew Yosef.
It is explained that at this time the Egyptians were starting to fear the large number of Jews in Egypt, but could do nothing about it because the king, Pharaoh, was in obvious gratitude towards the Jews. Eventually the people became impatient and began to put pressure on the Pharaoh to make a bold move against the Jews. The Pharaoh soon caved in to all the pressure and essentially became a new king, one who did not know Yosef, he chose to ignore Yosef.
“Every son that is born you should cast into the river” (Exodus 1:22)
In order to curb the enormous population growth of the Jewish people, Pharaoh proclaimed this edict, sentencing any newborn baby boy to drowning in the Nile.The Gemara (Sotah 11) relates that when Pharaoh was unsure as to how to stop the Jews from growing more numerous, he asked three of his advisers for guidance. Bilaam, the first advisor, gave advice to throw the babies into the Nile. Iyov, the second, kept silent and Yitro, the third, ran away. As a result of these actions Bilaam was killed by Hashem, Iyov got tremendous suffering and Yitro merited children who sat in the Sanhedrin.
From here we learn the tremendous power of Tochacha (rebuke). Iyov, a G-d fearing man, kept silent rather than rebuke Bilaam for his advice. For this abstention of rebuke, Iyov got the worst sufferings in the world. (In fact, a whole Sefer of Tanach describes his tribulations.)Yitro, on the other hand, ran away, which is only a small form of rebuke, yet was immensely rewarded by having children who converted and became Torah giants and adjudicators in Sanhedrin, a great honor.Now it is clear the power of rebuke. If we see a friend sinning, we must realize that it is our obligation and a mitzvah from the Torah to tell our friend of the wrong they are committing. If we do not, as in the case of Iyov, terrible punishment may be the result. But if we do, then our reward will be great. May we all merit such honor and greatness as a result of fulfilling the Torah’s commandments.
~Devorah Abenhaim
Jan 2, 2026 | Torat Devorah
Jacob, realizing he is about to die, 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.
~Devorah Abenhaim
Dec 26, 2025 | Torat Devorah, Uncategorized
In this weeks Parsha we learn of the reunion of Jacob with his beloved son Yoseph. Yosef had become elevated to a position of ruler ship second only to Pharaoh. When his brothers emigrated from the land of Canaan with their father, Yosef knew that Pharaoh would call for them. He advised them how to answer Pharaoh who would ask them what their occupation was. What was his advice? He told them to say that they were herdsman. This would insure that they would be given the good grazing land of Goshen to live on. Good grazing land for herdsman? This sounds as if they were being given deferential treatment in their new host country.
In actual fact the sons of Yaakov were being separated from the local population. They would be despised as herdsman since the Egyptians worshipped sheep as gods. In what way then, was Yosef’s advise beneficial to his brothers?
Rabbi Dovid Green relates the following: “Dr. Asher Wade tells a very interesting story which sheds light on our question. Dr. Wade’s extensive Holocaust studies have made him a key lecturer at Yad V’shem, He notes that he finds it intriguing to note the reactions many people have to his mode of dress which is that of a Chasidic Jew.
In his story he describes how a young woman paused as she made her way past him. She looked at him with tremendous disdain and jadedly accused him saying “it’s people like YOU who caused the Holocaust to happen”. She based her statement on the premise that being different makes others hate you. That of course makes assimilation the best defense against anti-Semitism.
He simply asked her in return, “tell me, where did the Nazi hatred start? In Eastern Europe where so many Jews were still strongly identifiable as Jews, or in Austria and Germany where the Jews were largely assimilated?” She stood there, taking a moment longer to think than she had the first time she spoke. She then quickly continued down the isle saying “well, you just leave me alone and I’ll do the same for you,” which sounds very much like: “don’t confuse me with the facts, I’ve made up my mind!”
We learn that when the time for the exodus from Egypt came, 210 years after Jacob arrived, the Children of Israel had become barely recognizable as a separate nation. Slavery and oppression had taken it’s toll. The only aspects which had been retained to distinguish them from their Egyptian neighbors were their uniquely Jewish style of dress, their Hebrew language, and their continued use of Jewish names. All other aspects of Egyptian life, among them idol worship and the laxity in performing circumcision, had slowly washed away their Jewish identity. Though the family of Yaakov came to Egypt to escape the raging famine which was then devastating Canaan and the surrounding area, the Egyptian society was not theirs.
Through the advise to his brothers, Yosef was actually insuring the continuity of all future Jewish generations until today. If the original tiny settlement of 70 Jews had been welcomed and settled in the heart of Egyptian culture and norms from day one, how long would it have taken for them to have assimilated completely, disappearing as Jews altogether? Yosef, with his foresight and caring for the future of G-d’s nation, saw what steps to take and followed through. Yes, his family would be separate and distinct. Yes, they would be hated. They would also make it to the end of the Egyptian exile with the last vestiges of their identity intact, namely their Jewish names and mode of dress.
The existence of a last tiny flame of Jewish identity insured that there was a nation left to be taken out of bondage. That tiny flame would later be ignited into a glorious torch through the giving of the Torah. It may have appeared at the time that Yosef was the hater. In actuality he had expressed the greatest love through his seemingly strange advise. Without Yosef having arranged that they would be distinct, they would surely have been loved…to death through assimilation.
~Devorah Abenhaim
