Jan 8, 2015 | 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 30, 2014 | Torat Devorah
In this week’s parshah, Jacob, realizing he is about to die, wishes to reveal to the his sons the date of the final redemption. Hashem wanted Israel’s exile to be difficult, so he closed Jacob’s vision, because exile is easier to bear when one know’s in advance when it will end. He then 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.. Being a grandparent therefore connects us deeply to our uniqueness as human beings.
There is further significance to Jacob’s blessings. We are aware 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. We can ask ourselves, what happened to the patriarchs Abraham, Isaac and Jacob? 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). Even though Jacob had set Ephraim, the younger son, before Menashe, the first born, Ephraim did not become arrogant, and Menashe did not become jealous. 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: HENAY MA TOV 00 MA NAYIM, SHEVET ACHIM GAM YACHAD “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?
This can be explained as follows: 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, 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
Dec 26, 2014 | Torat Devorah
The Torah states, “Yosef said to them (his brothers) on the third day, ‘….let one of your brothers be imprisoned in your place of confinement…Then bring your youngest brother to me so your words will be verified…” Yosef, the Viceroy of Egypt, imprisoned one of his brothers while the others went back to Canaan
and return with Binyamin. At that moment, they reflected upon their tenuous predicament and said, “Indeed we are guilty concerning our brother (Yosef) inasmuch as we saw his heartfelt anguish when he pleaded with us and
we paid no heed; that is why this anguish has come upon us.” Sforno in his commentary explains that Yosef’s brothers realized at that moment that their insensitivity towards their brother’s heartfelt supplications was in essence was cruelty. Although they believed that they had rendered a proper judgment concerning their brother, that he was a pursuer (rodeif) and deserved to be killed. He would ultimately cause their demise through his tale bearing to their father Yaakov. Nevertheless, they should have had mercy on him when he pleaded not to be sold into slavery. Because they had acted cruelly towards their brother Yosef, G’d (measure for measure) brought upon them in kind a heathen who was acting cruelly towards them by accusing them of being spies and demanding that they must bring before him Binyamin. If in fact their evaluation of their brother’s
behavior was correct and indeed he was a pursuer and consequently putting their lives in jeopardy, why are they considered to be cruel. They did not see sufficient reason to heed his supplications? Their understanding of Yosef as a “pursuer” was not that he would actually attempt to physically bring harm upon them. But rather, they were concerned that his negative tale bearing would discredit them to their father Yaakov, who would ultimately curse them, which is the equivalent of death. However, if they had shown mercy to their brother Yosef and had been sensitive to his pleads, they would have merited Divine Protection that their father should always see them for what they truly were.
Yaakov had been bereaved by the loss of Yoseffor many years. When his sons returned from Egypt andexplained that they needed to bring Binyamin before the Viceroy in order to prove that they were not spies, Yaakov had said to them, “May Almighty G’d grant you mercy…that he (the Viceroy) may release to you your
brother as well as Binyamin. As for me, as I have been bereaved so I am bereaved.” It was imperative that Yosef’s brothers return with Binyamin safely. However, after the goblet had been discovered in his sack, they had believed that they would not be able to bring about the safe return of Binyamin. The pain that was going to come upon their father Yaakov was something that he would not be
able to survive. When Yaakov’s children rent their garments because of Binyamin’s predicament, it was the first time that they had truly internalized the grief and
suffering of their father that he had endured during all the years of Yosef’s absence. Since Binyamin was the catalyst through which Yosef’s brothers were able to have a sense of their father’s pain, his descendant Mordechai would
have the sensitivity to internalize the calamity that had befallen the Jewish people. What was the value of being granted the ability to fully grasp and internalize the
predicament of the Jewish people? Mordechai was the leading Torah sage of the
generation who had galvanized the Jewish people and united them in repentance. It was because of the depth of his understanding of the events that he was able to
overturn the decree through his leadership and prevent the annihilation of his people and he brought about the destruction of their enemy, Amalek. Had Mordechai not been able to internalize the severity of their situation, he would have not been as effective to impact upon the masses as he had done. The verse in the Megillah of Esther tells us that he sat at the gate of the king wearing sackcloth and ash when he became aware of the decree to annihilate every Jewish man, woman, and child. Although it was inappropriate to present oneself in this state at the
gate of the palace, because Mordechai so consumed with the impending tragedy he was oblivious to this. His only focus at that moment was the future existence of the Jewish people. Just as Yosef’s brothers fully internalized the meaning of Binyamin not returning to their father Yaakov and thus experiencing their father’s all-consuming pain, Mordechai, the grandson of Binyamin, merited a similar capacity.
Dec 18, 2014 | Torat Devorah
And Pharaoh said to Joseph, “I have had a dream, but no one can interpret it. Now I have heard it said of you that for you to hear a dream is to tell its meaning.” Joseph answered Pharaoh, saying, “Not I! God will see to Pharaoh’s welfare.”(Genesis 41:15-16) The Joseph that interprets Pharaoh’s dreams is very different than the one who interprets his own dreams as a youth. This Joseph is eager to deflect credit for his skill, and shows himself to be a God-fearing person even in the face of a foreign ruler who thinks of himself as a god. Joseph now clearly understands that the world does not revolve around him.
In Israel two famous dream interpreters served foreign rulers, Joseph and Daniel. Both offered their interpretations as having been given by God (Genesis 41:16; Daniel 2:27-48; 4:18). The difference between them is that Joseph’s ability is informal, whereas Daniel’s is most likely associated with his training (Daniel 1:4) … In Israel, dream interpretation is given acceptable status only when God’s direct involvement can be affirmed. … Israel agreed with the rest of the ancient Near East that deity could and did communicate through dreams. (John H. Walton, Ancient Near Eastern Thought and the Old Testament)
Rabbi Adam Rosenbaum of South Carolina explains: “The power of imagination is one of the great powers God has given people; even prophecy itself has its root in this power. Nevertheless, it is not the same as the prophetic vision whose true source is ultimately in the mind of God. [Prophetic visions enter the mind of the prophet] in the same way that fantasies enter the heart of a human being [except that, instead of emanating from the mind of God, imaginative fantasies have] their foundation in fantasizing about things that a person’s soul loves. And whenever a person is purified from evil qualities, such as lust, anger, pride, and quarrelsomeness, so that all the person’s fantasies are disconnected from each one of those contaminations, the person ascends to the level of prophecy. (Tzadok HaKohen of Lublin, Tzidkat HaTzaddik) One sees how sober this whole process is in the fact that Joseph proceeds from the actual interpretation of the future immediately to quite practical suggestions. … What is theologically noteworthy is the way in which the strong predestination content of the speech is combined with a strong summons to action. The fact that God has determined the matter, that God hastens to bring it to pass, is precisely the reason for responsible leaders to take measures! (Gerhard von Rad, Genesis).”
Rabbi Ari Kahn comments: “The dreams that Yosef interprets teach him that it is there that he will rise to power, there that his family will become as numerous as the stars.The wine steward’s dream foretells his own redemption, and Paroh’s dreams show him the path to the future. Yosef sees God’s master plan unfold in the dreams of others; his own dreams speak of the time of their return to the land – not as a nomadic band of brothers but as a nation in possession of their Promised Land. His brothers never asked Yosef to explain his dreams; would they have understood the message had he revealed it to them? Did the brothers share Yosef’s ability to see beyond the present, to discern and understand hundreds of years of history in the visions he is granted? It seems not; they saw their own personal rivalries and jealousies, and took no responsibility for the future. Yosef was, in more than one sense, a visionary: He saw beyond the present, and taught others to do the same. For Yosef, all these dreams are of one piece; they are all connected to the glorious dream of Avraham. Yosef understands that his own personal life story is a vehicle for Jewish history.”
Dec 11, 2014 | Torat Devorah
This week’s parasha, Vayeshev, often falls on the Shabbat of Hannukah. Vayeshev and the Festival of Lights in fact share a number of connections, though on the surface there would seem to be little that is light in the parashah. In melodramatic fashion, each upturn in the story is matched by a sharper downturn. Joseph is loved most of all by his father, so he is hated by his brothers. When Reuven saves him from his brothers’ murderous intent, Joseph is taken from the pit and sold into slavery. He works his way up to be chief of Potiphar’s household, only to be falsely accused of a rape and cast into prison. He earns the gratitude of Pharaoh’s cupbearer, but it turns out to be short-lived, and Joseph must spend the week from Vayeshevto Mi-ketz languishing in the dungeon. At the end of this week’s reading it is difficult to see the glass as half full.
Seemingly one of the most pessimistic readers of the story, Rabbi Tanhum, imagines for one of the verses a possibility even worse than the glass being half-empty. The Biblical text uses a peculiar duplication of language to describe the pit into which Joseph’s brothers cast him: that “Ha Bor Reik“- (the pit was empty) and “ein bo mayim” (had no water in it) (Genesis 37:24). Rabbi Tanhum, in an interpretation widely quoted by later commentators, understands this duplication to imply that while the pit had no water, it was full of snakes and scorpions. With one narrative touch, he changes the tone of the story from soap opera to reality TV -The brothers are either crueler or more careless than we might have thought otherwise.
Rabbi Tanhum’s statement is not particularly unusual in its content; the process of midrash often offers this type of embellishment. The statement stands out somewhat more for its context. It appears in the Talmud (TB Shabbat 22a) in the midst of a discussion about kindling the lights of Hanukkah, and how high off the ground they may be placed. To be fair, the flow of Talmud is not always linear; it offers many varieties of excurses and digressions. In fact, the most extensive discussion of Hanukkah in the Talmud only appears in the tractateShabbat as an extended digression from the topic of Shabbat candles. In this case, the reason for the inclusion of a statement by Rabbi Tanhum is rather pedestrian. It follows another statement attributed to him, which is germane to the topic at hand: he notes that a Hanukkah light that is higher than twenty cubits off the ground (about thirty feet) does not fulfill the mitzvah. A candle that is too high off the ground will not be seen by passers-by, and will not contribute to pirsumei nisa– publicizing the miracle.
Rabbi Joshua Heller explains; ” The religious spirit of Hanukkah is one of ascent and optimism. For instance, there were once two schools of thought regarding the proper lighting of Hanukkah candles. The school of Shammai taught that one begins by lighting eight candles on the first night, counting down to one, reflecting the days that have gone by and the quantity that remain. The practice of Hillel’s school, and our practice today, is to light an additional candle each night, to show the increasing greatness of the miracle. We celebrate the Maccabean victory even though it was short-lived, and focus even more on what is comparatively a minor miracle, the lights burning for eight days when it seemed that they would only last for one. Rabbi Tanhum’s statement reminds us that we must keep the reminders of goodness ever in sight, and in our minds. Conversely, the story of Vayeshev is one of descent- down into the pit, down into Egypt, down into the dungeon. Rabbi Tanhum’s reading, at first glance, would seem to make that descent even worse. However, I believe the intent of his statement, though, is just the opposite. He wants his listeners to be astonished by Joseph’s miraculous survival, and recognize the true extent of the divine providence that accompanied Joseph on each phase of his journey. Rabbi Tanhum would have us develop a new appreciation of the events of Vayeshev: The week-long cliffhanger exists only to whet our appetite for Joseph’s later triumphant ascendance. Each downward step of the story—from the brothers’ jealousy to Joseph’s descent into Egypt and Israel’s enslavement in Egypt—is part of a divine plan leading to their descendants’ redemption at the Red Sea and revelation at Sinai.
Dec 4, 2014 | Torat Devorah
In a portion filled with tension, violence, wrestling, rape, revenge and death, a small scene- a wrestling match – has captured the minds of our people for generations. Toward the beginning of Vayishlach we read: “Jacob was left alone. And a man wrestled with him until the break of dawn. When he saw that he had not prevailed against him, he wrenched Jacob’s hip at its socket, so that the socket of his hip was strained as he wrestled with him. Then [the man] said, “Let me go, for dawn is breaking.” But [Jacob] answered, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me.” Said the [man], “What is your name?” [Jacob] replied, “Jacob.” Said [the man], “Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with beings divine and human, and have prevailed.” (Genesis 32:25-29) Jacob becomes Israel, and the seed of our nation is planted.
Rabbi Howard J. Goldsmith comments: “With the State of Israel in the news nearly every day, it is easy to forget that the term “Israel” was around long before the advent of the modern state in 1948. Ever since Jacob wrestled with that mysterious man and received his new name, Israel, his descendants have been known as the “Children of Israel.” Throughout history, our people have thought of themselves as being descended from Jacob and, thus, took the name Israel. It is through this name that we see ourselves going out of the Land of Egypt each year during the Passover seder. It is through this name that we are called in the Sh’ma, “Hear, O Israel” to recognize the oneness of God. According to the text, Jacob received the name Israel for a specific reason: He struggled “with beings divine and human.” We are Children of Israel merely by being Jewish, but taking our name seriously is what allows us to claim that mantel fully. We are a people who wrestle with God. We question. We challenge. We seek. We struggle with our faith and our tradition… and that is what makes us Israel. Ours is not a religion of blind faith or unquestioned dogma; our very name requires us to question constantly so that, like Jacob, we can become God-wrestlers. Thus, the name given to Jacob so long ago still resonates with us today. We are not “good Jews” for keeping this or that mitzvah. We are good Jews when we take our tradition and our faith seriously enough to wrestle with it, to question it, to fit it into our lives in meaningful and important ways.
When Abraham’s name was changed, it was a permanent change because his destiny and fortune changed as well. Previously he was not worthy of having children who would inherit him, but now he was going to be a father of great nations. Besides, it was Terach who gave his son the name Abram, but it was G-d who changed it to Abraham. Jacob, on the other hand, was named through Divine inspiration. Eliyahu KiTov suggests that there was a subtle but important message in the name change. When G-d appears to Jacob and speaks to him, He speaks in the name “Eh’lo’kim,” implying that just as G-d has several names and is sometimes referred to as Hashem (the Tetragrammaton), and sometimes as Eh’lo’kim, the G-d of Power, so you [Jacob] also have several names, and that your name Jacob will be eternal. In addition, suggests KiTov, the name “Yaakov” (whose root is the word “ekev,” meaning heel or end) implies that your children will survive eternally, until the end of days. This name, says the Al-mighty, which has been given to you by your holy fathers, will never be nullified or cease to exist. Even though your enemies regard the name Jacob as emblematic of deception and crookedness, in the end of days, everyone will recognize that Jacob was straight and honest from beginning to end. Rabbi Buchwald explains:”What’s in a name? When we are called Israel it implies that we have wrestled with G-d and with man and have prevailed. It is a powerful name, with powerful implications. One would think that it should be a permanent name as well. Nevertheless, in the real world we still need Jacob, the man who is able to engage in subterfuge in order to survive, and who is able to strike back at those who are trying to undermine and undo him.”
Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim
