Parashat Beshalach: Why Did Hashem Bother Splitting the Sea?

Parashat Beshalach is known as Parashat Shira, the parasha with the special song the Jewish people sang after experiencing the splitting of the sea. This comes off the heels of two parshiyot where we watched the hand of G-d destroy Egypt with the ten Makot. One might now wonder, what was the point or the need for the splitting of the sea?

After the ten makot were complete, we were ready to leave Egypt; Hashem even gave us mitzvot to mark the beginning of the redemption. He gave us the mitzvah of  Brit Milah and Korban Pesach. He even gave us the mitzvah of tefillin, specifically as a zecher lyetzias mitzraim, a remembrance of leaving Egypt.  Then Beshalach comes and we are going out with another miracle: the splitting of the sea. Why did we need it? 

Rav Moshe Feinstein writes that the exodus was not complete until the splitting of the sea; somehow this was the completeness of yetziat mitzrayim. Similarly, from the Pesach Seder we are familiar with the four languages of redemption, one being וגאלתי, which Rabbeinu Bachya says refers to the splitting of the sea. Again we see the splitting of the sea as the end of the redemption. But we were already free? The slavery was over? Why did we need this?

Perhaps we can suggest the Egyptians were still alive and might chase us, so Hashem decided he needed one last way to kill them. But that can’t be the reason;  the only reason they chased us was because Hashem hardened Pharaoh's heart so he would chase after us. Moreover, even if the reason for the splitting of the sea is to destroy the Egyptians, so why not just kill them in Egypt? Why didn’t Hashem kill them as part of the last plague, the plague of the first born? Or better yet, perform a huge, miracle in Egypt and have them all sink into the earth?
Why does it have to happen at the sea?

Rabbi Eytan Feiner suggests  we see from Chazal that the splitting of the sea had a uniqueness that brought those who witnessed it to sing a shira. Even the lowly maid servant saw a revelation of Hashem’s shechina that was not seen  by all the other plagues.  The Talmud in Shabbat (132) quotes the opinion of Abba Shaul who explains the pasuk from this week’s parasha ואנוהו - we learned that we must emulate Hashem and act in his ways of mercy and kindness. But again, what did they see at the splitting of the sea that was so special for us to learn this lesson. 

To make this question even stronger, what does the first pasuk in the shira tell us about how miraculous Hashem was? סוס ורכבו רמה בים, “the horse with its rider, he threw into the sea.”
That is so miraculous? More than the ten plagues?

Rashi says the miracle was they were tied together and defied the laws of gravity. Normally, if you were on horse and went in the water you would fall off; the  miracle here was they didn’t, for they stuck together and Hashem shook them up and down from the top of the water to the bottom and back.

But still, was this so much more impressive than the makot?

Rav Yochanan Zweig in his sefer Shirat Hayam says we are not talking about the awesomeness of the miracle, rather the uniqueness is that here we saw Hashem’s involvement like never before. In previous plagues, Hashem manipulated things to show He was in control of the creatures of the world; the supreme omnipotent playing with forces of nature, yet you don’t see Him, as it is all done behind the scenes.
By the splitting of the sea, Hashem is changing the laws of nature by combining the horse and its rider. So what is keeping them together? It wasn’t nature keeping them together. It is as if Hashem is holding them together and taking them to the bottom and then to the top, shaking them up and down. Who is taking them up and down? It is Hashem Himself! The water couldn’t do that. There were no fish or alligators swimming here and keeping the horse and rider together! There were no acts of nature keeping them together! It was Hashem Himself!

The miracle of the splitting of the sea is Hashem saying to the Jewish people, “I am here, come watch so you can see Me like never before.” This was the special gilui shechinah! It was only through this new level of the relationship,  back united with Hashem, close to Him never like ever before, where the Jews could be considered fully redeemed!

Parashat Bo: Our Personal Exodus from Egypt

We now enter the parashiyot of יציאת מצרים, the exodus from Egypt. For generations, the exodus from Egypt has been the foundation our faith in Hashem - our emunah. Why and how is this so?

Parashat Bo concludes with the mitzvah of tefillin. והיה לאות על ידכה ולטוטפת בין עינך כי בחזק יד הוציאנו ה׳ ממצרים - “And it shall be a sign upon your arm, and an ornament between your eyes, for with a strong hand Hashem removed us from Egypt.” (Shemot 13:16).

The Ramban explains that Hashem created the world in a way that we all have free will: the choice to believe or not to believe. It is a confusing world, with many things that draw us away from Hashem and Torah. To counteract this force, Hashem performed the miracles of יציאת מצרים to demonstrate His existence, His creations, His knowledge of everything that goes on in the world, and his rulership over all creation. To that end, Hashem gave us mitzvot זכר ליציאת מצרים, to remember the exodus from Egypt. He gave us the mitzvah of Shabbat, Pesach, Tefillin and many others that the Torah specifically states are a remembrance of that exodus. The goal is that our performance of this miztvot will help strengthen our faith in Hashem.

My Rabbi, Rabbi Moshe Weinberger would often explain that when a person wants to grow in his Judaism, there is an evil inclination that tries to convince us that we are not worthy of serving Hashem. Afterall, we are mere mortals - how can we connect to the master of the universe? After the sins we might have committed, how could we ever change to become beloved in the eyes of our creator? The answer to this is

זכר ליציאת מצרים, remembering how Hashem took us out of Egypt. We must remember Jews had been on the 49th level of impurity, and they had a matter of weeks to raise themselves up to be worthy of receiving the Torah...AND THEY DID! The miracles of the exodus strengthened their faith in Hashem; it allowed them to re-prioritize their lives, to focus on religious growth. They understood this: No matter what they had done, they could always return to Hashem.

And so it appears to me that he mitzvah of Tefillin is teaching us two things:

1. As with all mitzvot, it is a physical act that draws us closer to Hashem. It is physical, but it is our way to connect to the spiritual. We should never underestimate how our physical exteriors impact our actions. When we put on tefillin, wear a kipa, or any other outwardly Jewish act, there is impact on how we connect to the Torah in the way Hashem intended.

2. We must remember that we can always grow; can always return to the ways of Hashem. Regardless of how we have acted in the past, we have the free will to change. The tefillin is placed on the weak hand to remind us that even when we feel incapable of growing, we must remember that every Jew has within him, the power to create his own exodus from Egypt.  We can all become great!

Parashat Va'era: Why was Pharaoh Punished?

While sitting at our Pesach Seder reading through the story of the ten plagues, we confront a difficult question: Why was Pharaoh punished for not letting the Jews go? After all, we find by numerous plagues that Hashem hardened the heart of Pharaoh, effectively removing his free will. So then why was he punished?

The Ramban suggests a novel idea; Pharaoh’s initial acts of killing Jewish babies was so bad that his ability to do teshuvah was removed. Without the ability to do teshuvah, he was judged and punished on his initial acts of killing the babies and in actuality he was NOT punished for anything he did after Hashem hardened his heart.

What does this mean? He was punished for his original actions?

Rabbi Andi Yudin once told me the following idea in the name of Rav Yisrael Salanter: when it comes to mizvot, we know there is a principle of לפום צערא עגרא. The more effort you put into a mitzvah, the more reward you shall receive. When you do a mitzvah that seems simple or easy, you are rewarded as if you did a challenging mitzvah. For example, at first davening every day with a minyan may seem challenging, but one who commits himself to it will get used to it, eventually it becoming second nature. Rav Yisroel Salanter states that you still get rewarded as if it was still hard for you to perform. Essentially, you earned the fact that it has become easy by doing it over and over.

The same is true about aveirot. In the beginning it is not so challenging to overcome a sin and correct your ways. But, as you get used to performing aveirot it becomes harder to stop doing them. So how does Hashem view us and choose to punish us? Since at the beginning it was easier to stop, I am punished for things as it were in the beginning, since I could have stopped them from reoccurring.

For Pharaoh, included in his end game was his beginning game. Since he committed terrible aveirot in the beginning, he was punished for his original aveirot; he could not be punished for his later actions which were done without free will.

There is a powerful message for all of us here. Some mitzvot are harder for us than others. The effort you make in the beginning allows you to continue to be rewarded later on, even if it gets easier to do that mitzvah. So Lefum Tzara Agra goes both ways. Pharaoh was punished at the end for what his actions were in the beginning, when he should have stopped, but he was not punished for his later actions after Hashem removed his free will.

Let us all remember that unlike Pharaoh, we have free will to choose good and to keep the Torah and Mitzvot. We will be rewarded for our efforts, even after mitzvot become easier to perform!

Parashat Shemot: Does It Really Matter Where We Live?

Sefer Shemot begins repeating the names of בני ישראל and then says יוסף היה במצרים, “Yosef was in Egypt.” We all just finished sefer Beraishit last week -, it’s been a while that Yosef was in Egypt already, so why does the Torah feel the need to again tell us he was there?

I use the context of the Avot and their personal struggles to reflect upon some different hashkafot existing in Orthodoxy today. It goes without saying that our Avot were on a high spiritual level we cannot fathom, but yet the Torah describes their struggles for us to learn from. Avraham struggled with two competing sons, specifically with Yishmael and who he would become. Yitzchak dealt with the rift between Eisov and Yaakov and they each struggled with that relationship, regardless of what Yitzchak fully understood was going on. Yaakov dealt with 12 sons, 10 of which had a real struggle with Yosef. Regardless of how we understand their justification for selling Yosef, they had to deal with a father who expressed more love for one sibling. Despite all of this, everyone after Avraham was raised in a Jewish environment, in some sense a sheltered shtetl in an attempt to infuse only Torah philosophies. In fact, the Torah says this almost explicitly when it describes Yaakov having heard Yosef is alive. He sends Yehudah ahead to Egypt to settle in the city of Goshen, where they could be in their own environment, away from the impurity of Egypt proper. The bottom line?  Avot seemed to prefer a sheltered community to a more mixed or diverse one.

Yosef, although he grew up in a sheltered environment, after being sold and sent to Egypt, spent most of his years in a land of impurity. And yet, he grew into the gadol that the king of Egpyt relied on to run the country, he withstood the temptation of the wife of Potifar, and essentially lived in Egyptian society without compromising on his avodat Hashem at all. Perhaps that is why the Torah emphasises where Yosef lived. In Egypt, where the sides were stacked against him, unable to live a true Torah Torah lifestyle,  he rose to the occasion and did not let that waiver from what he knew to be true and right at all. Moreover, he produced אפרים ומנשה, who seemed to have a much more peaceful relationship than their uncles, great-uncles and great-great-uncles. Isn’t it interesting, that this was the case despite them being the first to grow up in a totally non-Jewish environment? Perhaps this is why the tradition for thousands of years has been that on Friday night we bless our sons that they should be like אפרים ומנשה, not only to live a peaceful life, but to be strong in your conviction to Torah and Mitzvot, regardless of what the world around you is promoting and endorsing.

We live in a Jewish world that continues to polarize. Unfortunately, the intermarriage rate continues to rise and the non-orthodox world continues to dwindle; in some cities a little faster, in others a little slower, but the numbers are declining consistently. In the Orthodox world, the right wing charedi community continues to grow at strong levels; this world seems to promote more of the “fully” sheltered environment with a complete focus on Torah and mitzvot and not much of an emphasis on contributing to the  world around us, to general education and professionalism. Even in the once called Modern Orthodox community, its own polarization is occurring - more and more people who want to call themselves modern orthodox, but in practice seem to be more ‘modern’ than they are orthodox. For many this term and community has turned more into a social structure for a community, than a description of philosophy towards Torah and mitzvot.

It would seem to me that if we looked to Yosef for chinuch advice, much of the Jewish world would not be following his modale. I suppose the Chareidi approach has its value, but more so if they really live in seclusion, without interacting with the general world. But if they are to live and make a living in the world at large, there may be a few areas that need improvement in their approach. If we look to the non-Orthodox world that is devoid of complete commitment to Torah and Mitzvot, perhaps we can understand why their numbers are dwindling and why their youth are less interested. If we look at the “Modern” or “Centrist” Orthodox community, I believe we need to look at  the Orthodoxy as being equally as important as the Modern. The original philosophy of Rav Soloveitchik and Rav Hirsch, although different, both understood the need of the modern Jew to live and interact in the world around them. They understood the need and value that general education has to allow us to become professionals and to deepen our appreciation for Hashem’s world. They understood that our reality was like אפרים ומנשה; that we would grow up in a secular world and despite the growth of Torah learning, increased number of shuls and Jewish Day Schools, there is a balance that has to be struck to live truly both modern and orthodox.

I do not espouse to have the answers to all of the Jewish communities challenges, but when it comes to this issue, I think back to a shiur I heard over twenty years ago on a cassette (for those of you who remember what those are) from Rabbi Mordechai Gifter, the Rosh Yeshiva of Telz Cleveland. Despite being from a more chareidi Yeshiva, Rav Gifter’s upbringing allowed him to understand the full gamut of the Jewish world;  he suggested that we stop using descriptors to Orthodox, and he preferred that we all aspire to be “Torah Jews.” He understood there are going to be philosophical differences in the Jewish spectrum, but the most important thing is are we Torah Jews. Is the Torah the main motivator in how we live our lives? Is the Torah the main decider of how we practice and how we act? Perhaps this was the strength of Yosef and why the Torah emphasizes in this week’s parasha that he was in Egypt. Despite being in Egypt, he was a Torah Jew and he was always sure to make Torah the motivator behind everything he did.

Parashat Vayechi: A Message for Life from Sefer Beraishit: Challenges Leads to Growth

As we conclude the book of Bereishit, I am struck by one reality: most of our Avot and Imahot did not have easy lives. They each had struggles and challenges, including family feuds and waiting many years for children. There is a famous Medrashic comment which states that our Imahot had to wait many years to have children because Hashem desired their tefillot. One common message we can take away from this is that Hashem wants us to daven; he wants us to develop a relationship with him and this is so important that He gives us challenges in life to bring us to daven.

Two years ago, I spent a week in Israel, visiting my son who was then learning in Yeshivah for the year. Like many people when traveling to Israel, we often go with some apprehension and concern for safety. I found myself experiencing extreme emotions about this. On the one hand, my wife and I felt  the new security measures - walls on the highways, etc., gave us a greater sense of security than we had on previous trips. However, our trip concluded only 10 minutes away from the terrible terrorist attack in Armon Hanatziv. Before I even had the chance to feel fear for my son, wife or myself, I was struck by what I saw happening around me. Despite the sadness and grief over the horrendous attack, Israeli’s did not let it bring them down, nor did it let them feel despair; they did not let it dampen their spirit for our country. Israelis continued on with their lives, as they walked the streets, malls, markets, shuks and centers with genuine feelings of safety and security. There was also a feeling in the air -  an ‘energy’, if you will - that our lives are all in the hands of Hashem. Even the non-observant taxi driver commented many times on how Hashem takes care of us, and that the strength of our country comes from our rallying together after events like these; that horrific acts such as what transpired that day can only serve to bring us closer together as a nation and a people, and reaffirm our commitment to our country. And all I could think of was ‘my goodness, what unbelievable people, what unbelievable strength of character, what a remarkable sense of purpose they have’ - מי כעמך ישראל!

To come full circle, this experience helped me understand the words of Chazal, mentioned above in a different light. It is not just the tefillot that Hashem wants from us, but it is our struggle, it is our commitment to His Torah and His land which ultimately defines the way we choose to live our lives. It is not about having an “easy” life. “Easy” doesn’t mean better. The easy way doesn’t cause you to grow. Of course we should never know from such horrible tragedies, but perhaps we shouldn’t hope for everything to be easy. Perhaps we should look for times of struggle and challenges; those are what make us into great people!

Parashat Vayigash - Some Questions Are Better Than Their Answers

As educators, we are taught to encourage our students to question, think deeply and not to take everything at face value. There are some questions that are better than their answers. In this week’s parasha, I believe we find one such example. The parasha describes the story of Yaakov and Yosef being reunited. After years of thinking that Yosef is dead, Yaakov is told that Yosef is alive and he travels to Egypt to meet him. Imagine the scene, the emotion, the excitement. When they finally see each other, the Torah says,

וירא אליו ויפל על צואריו ויבך על צואריו עוד (מו:כט)

According to most commentaries, this means that Yosef saw Yaakov, he fell on his neck and wept. Rashi points out the usage of the word ויבך, and he cried, is singular. This is meant to teach us that only Yosef cried. Really? Yaakov who had just found out that his son was alive and he doesn’t cry? What is even more difficult to understand is that Rashi says the reason Yaakov didn’t cry at that moment (I am sure he did cry later, even though the text doesn’t discuss it) is because he was busy reciting Kriat Shema. Of all the time in the day to say Shema, now Yaakov says it? Could he not have said it earlier in the day? Later in the day? And why didn’t Yosef have to say Shema at that moment?

Let’s explore a few solutions to these questions; but think we might come to the realization that the question is in fact better than the answer.

1. Since Yosef had attained a level of malchut in Egypt and there is a commandment for Jews to honor malchut, Yaakov was actually on a mitzvah mission to honor malchut. Additionally, there is a principle of עוסק במצוה פטור מן המצוה, that one who is involved in mitzvah is exempt from other mitzvot that come his way, for fear that he might not fulfill the first one properly. Therefore, until the scene of being reunited, Yaakov was exempt from the mitzvah of Shema. Only once he arrived and showed honor to the malchut completing that mitzvah, did his obligation of reciting Shema return. He thus had to fulfill it before losing the opportunity.
2. With a slightly different twist, the K’tav Sofer suggests that Yaakov came to show honor to the malchut, to Yosef as a king. But Yaakov wanted to show he was coming to honor Yosef due to the malchut that Hashem had bestowed upon him -- not because of some honor that Pharaoh bestowed. For this reason, he stopped to say Shema, which is the ultimate display of accepting the yolk of heaven upon oneself.
3. The Maharal says that the moment Yaakov saw Yosef, he understood that it was not just that Yosef was alive, but that he was a king. He now understood the chesed that Hashem had performed and thus he recited Shema at that moment to declare his acceptance of the yolk of heaven. This teaches us that when something good happens to us, the first thing we need to remember is that only through the chesed of Hashem do good things happen to us.
4. The sefer Kol Yehuda remarks that as part of Shema, we recite, ואהבת את ה׳ אלוקך בכל לבבך ולכל נפשך, this implies that loving Hashem supersedes the level of any other love that one has.  Therefore, since Yaakov had so much difficulty in his life, whenever he would say ואהבת את ה׳ it was not such a novelty because he didn’t have that much else to love aside from Hashem. However, at a momentous event like meeting up with Yosef, that Yaakov felt the love of Hashem בכל לבבו, and thus he recited Shema.
5. My friend, Jeff Kirshblum suggests an alternate idea in that Yaakov lived a very difficult life. He grew up with an evil twin brother, he struggled with his father-in-law, Lavan. He was led to believe that his beloved son Yosef had been brutally murdered. One might suggest that Yaakov lived a difficult life. Even the years he studied in the Yeshiva of Shem and Eber, he was constantly worried that Eisov might catch up with him. When he met Rachel, he foresaw her early death and he had to work additional years to marry her. It was Yaakov’s faith in Hashem that sustained him throughout the years. When he was finally reunited with Yosef, this could have been the first moment of unadulterated joy he had known in years, maybe even ever. Yaakov took that joy and used it to thank Hashem. How could he not take this wonderful moment to thank Hashem? The message here is that we often turn to Hashem when things are difficult and we need His help. Yaakov is teaching us that we need to thank Hashem at times of joy as well.

I leave it to you to decide;  are any of these answers as good as the question?

Parashat Miketz - Dreams: What Do They Really Mean?

The parasha begins with the famous episode of Pharaoh’s dream. There is a vision of seven robust and beautiful cows that emerge from the river, followed by seven ugly and skeletal cows. The ugly and skeletal cows proceed to consume the robust and beautiful cows, whereupon Pharaoh awakens from the dream. He then falls back asleep and has a second dream, seeing seven healthy ears of grain sprouting forth from the ground, followed by seven thin and scorched ears of grain. In a similar pattern, the seven skinny and scorched ears proceed to consume the seven healthy ears. The pasuk then says something quite interesting that I never stopped before to think about:

ויהי בבקר ותפעם רוחו וישלח ויקרא את כל חרטמי מצרים ואת כל חכמיה ויספר פרעה להם את חלמו  ואין פותר אותם לפרעה. (מא,ח)

“And it was in the morning: His spirit was agitated, so he went and summoned all the necromancers of Egypt and all its wise men; Pharoah related his dream to them, but none could interpret them for Pharaoh.”

We all have dreams. Some  more memorable than others. What in the world was so concerning about this dream that Pharaoh awoke after the first dream? What could have gotten him so agitated after the second dream that had him call in all of his advisors and magicians to help him understand the dream? Why was he so concerned?

Rav Shimon Schwab suggests that as a powerful ruler, Pharaoh was used to seeing the strong defeat the weak, and the many defeat the few. Being the ruler of a powerful and strong country, he had been sitting confident. When he suddenly saw a vision of the weak eating the strong and then the same vision came a second time, he was scared that perhaps this was a message that his throne was in danger of being overtaken. This is why he called in his magicians and advisors; to share both his concern and his need for being sure he was understanding the message correctly.

It is therefore not a coincidence that parashat Miketz always falls out on Chanukah, as a hint to infer that the weak can in fact defeat the strong. This juxtaposition reinforces that Pharaoh’s concern was real and well founded. It appears that Hashem used this vision to “wake” up Pharaoh to confirm his interpretation. What is interesting is that this was not the ultimate message Hashem intended for Pharaoh to walk away with.

The above explains why Pharaoh was concerned. But how are we to understand the end of the pasuk? Despite repeated attempts by his magicians, Pharaoh was not convinced any of them had interpreted the dream properly. Why didn’t he like their interpretations? Furthermore, a young Jewish child is taken out of prison. He interprets the dream and immediately Pharaoh and his officers agree  he got it right. What is going on here? Why did they like his interpretation better?

One could argue the Egyptian magicians suggested interpretations like the one where Pharaoh would have seven sons, and then they would die, and other such suggestions that would affect Pharaoh personally (see Rashi). Yosef’s interpretation stood out because his dream was big; it wasn’t about Pharaoh as a person, but rather it was about Pharaoh as a leader. It was about his country; that there would be seven great agricultural years, followed by seven years of famine. Yosef explained that Hashem was warning Pharaoh to save his people by saving up food during the years of plenty. Pharaoh was a wise leader; he understood  this interpretation had to be correct; that Hashem was speaking to him as a leader.

The message for us? We have to see life beyond ourselves as individuals. For those of us who are married, we have to see the world as “we.” For those of us who have children, we have to see the world as “we.” All of us have a place in the community, and as the saying goes, “we rise by lifting others.” We, the collective we, should always seek ways in which to help another; to be a source of guidance and support. Apropos at this time of the year: The shamash is the candle that lights the others. Be a shamash.