SALT | Vaera 5785

MOTZAEI

Before presenting the account of the ten plagues that befell Egypt, Parashat Vaera digresses into a brief genealogical record of the first three tribes of Benei Yisrael - Reuven, Shimon and Levi. The Torah goes into much greater detail in presenting the tribe of Levi, culminating with the mention of Moshe and Aharon. The final verse reads, "It was they who spoke to Pharaoh king of Egypt to free the Israelites from the Egyptians, these are the same Moshe and Aharon" (6:27). The final clause of this verse - "these are the same Moshe and Aharon" - clearly appears redundant. What purpose does this repetition serve?

Rabbi Baruch Moshe Faivelsohn, in his "Birkot Moshe" (mid-20^th cent., New York), explains that the verse here alludes to the two distinct roles God assigns Moshe and Aharon. The first and more obvious task required confronting Pharaoh and demanding the release of the Israelite slaves. When he refused, they were to bring upon him and his country the plagues that would eventually lead to the slaves' release. But secondly, albeit more subtly, Moshe and Aharon play a crucial leadership role within Benei Yisrael; they bear the formidable responsibility of reviving the nation's hopes, preserving and fueling the tiny spark of optimism that remained, and preparing them for their imminent redemption. As we see early on in this parasha, this was no easy task: "Moshe told this [promise of redemption] to the Israelites, but they did not listen to Moshe, due to crushed spirit and cruel bondage" (6:9). After over two centuries of slavery, the nation's ears could not hear any words of comfort and reassurance; they felt hopeless. They needed patient leaders who could gently, softly and indulgently lift their spirits and assure them of the onset of freedom. The crushed spirits of Benei Yisrael could be repaired only by a leadership with the sensitivity necessary to gradually and patiently engender a sense of hope for national revival.

This verse emphasizes that "these are the same Moshe and Aharon." The same leaders who dealt harshly with Pharaoh, who fearlessly demanded their constituents' freedom and threatened the Egyptians with deadly plagues - those same leaders competently assuaged Benei Yisrael's fears, helped them overcome their instinctive skepticism, and managed to kindle the flame of faith and hope. Moshe and Aharon effectively met perhaps the greatest challenge leadership - to deal with every situation and with every person independently, to understand that a tone effective when speaking to one person could be disastrous when used in dealing with another. 

SUNDAY

Towards the beginning of Parashat Vaera we read the famous "four expressions of redemption" with which God promises to free Benei Yisrael from bondage. The first expression reads, "ve-hotzeiti etkhem mi-tachat sivlot Mitzrayim" - "I will free you from the labors of the Egyptians" (6:6). Our translation here follows the commonly accepted definition of the Hebrew word "sivlot" (a derivative of the word, "sevel") as hard labor. Indeed, both the Targum Onkelos and Targum Yonatan translate this word as "dechok pulchan" - arduous labor. The Midrash Ha-gadol on this verse also adopts this definition, citing a proof-text from Sefer Tehillim (81:7).

The Sefat Emet, however, suggests a homiletic interpretation of the word, based on a different meaning of "sevel" - tolerance, the willingness to withstand and endure. According to the Sefat Emet, Benei Yisrael had fallen into the dangerous trap of habituation and routine. Having become accustomed to slavery, they reached the point where they no longer wished or dreamt for anything different; they accepted their lot, they tolerated it, they resigned themselves to it, and no longer exerted the emotional energy necessary to hope for anything better. God therefore promises to extricate Benei Yisrael from the "sivlot Mitzrayim" - from this tolerance of the Egyptian bondage. He will break this pattern and show them that they have what to hope for, what to look forward to, and what to yearn for.

This sharp homily may actually have roots in the straightforward reading of the verse, as well (in the spirit of "umko shel peshat"). As we mentioned, this clause - "I will free you from the sivlot Mitzrayim" - is the first of the four expressions. The second reads, "I will deliver you from their bondage." How does this differ from "I will free you from the labors of the Egyptians"? Why do we consider these two clauses two distinct promises? Seemingly, they describe the exact same development - the freedom from slavery! According to the Sefat Emet, however, the difference becomes abundantly clear. Before the Almighty can "deliver you from bondage," before He saves them from the Egyptians, He must first save them from themselves, so-to-speak. He must break this "sivlot" complex, by which Benei Yisrael no longer had any interest in freedom. Benei Yisrael had to be released from this mentality of self-subjugation, the acceptance of this dreadful reality of hardship and slavery.

This interpretation of the Sefat Emet may shed new light on our discussion yesterday about Benei Yisrael's refusal to accept Moshe's report of God's promise of redemption (6:9). We understood this verse to mean that the physical and emotional torment suffered by Benei Yisrael extinguished virtually whatever sparks of hope that could have remained. In light of this comment of the Sefat Emet, however, we should perhaps reexamine their negative response. They did not lose hope; they rather saw no need for hope. They had already resigned themselves to slavery and resented Moshe's efforts to change the status quo (which thus far had only worsened their condition). The people thus had to take that critical first step, whereby they would overcome this "sivlot" syndrome and sincerely long for a better and brighter future.

MONDAY

Towards the end of yesterday's edition of S.A.L.T., we advanced a possible interpretation for the verse in Parashat Vaera, "Moshe told this [= God's promise of redemption] to Benei Yisrael, but they did not listen to Moshe, due to crushed spirit and cruel bondage" (6:9). Based on a comment by the Sefat Emet, we suggested that Benei Yisrael had become so accustomed to slave life that they lost interest in changing the current situation. Having resigned themselves to forced labor and the denial of their basic civil rights, they paid no heed to Moshe's report of God's promise to redeem them.

At least one source points us in this general direction in interpreting this verse, albeit with a slightly different thrust. In his work "Neta Soreik," Rav Shraga Tzvi Tenenbaum (d. 1897) explains how an ingrained sense of inferiority and subjugation prevented Benei Yisrael from accepting Moshe's promises of freedom. Man is created with a natural longing for freedom; few things disturb the human being more than a feeling of restriction imposed by an external force. Pharaoh sought to condition Benei Yisrael such that they would lose this natural human tendency. Last week, in Parashat Shemot, we read of the king's fear of Benei Yisrael's disloyalty. To prevent insurrection, Pharaoh ordered that Benei Yisrael be enslaved. If he wanted to oppress Benei Yisrael, he could have chosen the simpler method of heavy taxation to build his cities and finance his monarchy - the method of choice by many enemies of the Jews over the centuries. But his intent was not to build cities or even to make life miserable for Am Yisrael. He sought to subjugate Benei Yisrael emotionally, more than just physically. He wanted them to grow accustomed to taking orders from Egyptian taskmasters, to having no say regarding anything in their lives. This would ensure that Benei Yisrael could never as much as entertain the thought of overthrowing the Pharaoh's government or resisting its authority.

Rav Tenenbaum interprets the clause, "kotzer ru'ach" (translated in our citation above as, "crushed spirit") to refer to this emotional subjugation from which Benei Yisrael suffered. They could not listen to Moshe's promises because they lost the natural, instinctive desire for independence. Without deep-rooted ambition and a strong will to be free, downtrodden slaves have no hope of regaining their liberty. Moreover, they could not accept Moshe's encouragement because of "cruel bondage." They lacked the physical strength necessary to stand up to their oppressors. With neither the emotional will nor the physical wherewithal to resist, there could be no hope for their attainment of freedom.

Ultimately, of course, neither concern impeded their redemption. As the Sefat Emet writes, God gradually freed Benei Yisrael from this mentality, and he fought their battles for them. Neither the "crushed spirit" nor the "cruel labor" stood in the way of the fulfillment of God's promise to lead Benei Yisrael to freedom.

TUESDAY

The Talmud Yerushalmi in Masekhet Pesachim (10:1) introduces the famous concept that the four cups of wine drunk on Pesach night correspond to the four "expressions of redemption" God mentions at the beginning of Parashat Vaera. God promises Benei Yisrael, "I will free [ve-hotzeiti] you… and deliver [ve-hitzalti] you… I will redeem [ve-ga'alti] you… and I will take [ve-lakachti] you… " (6:6-7). Many later writers are bothered by the fact that no cup is instituted to correspond to the fifth expression used by God in this promise: "Ve-eheveiti" - "I will bring you unto the land… " (6:8). Why does this expression not deserve any commemoration?

Rav Meir Ha-kohen of Warsaw, in his "Imrei Kohen" (published in 1935), answers by taking a look at the underlying concept of this halakha requiring us to drink four cups of wine. He claims that Chazal instituted these four cups of wine as an accompaniment, of sorts, to the "shira" - the songs of praise to the Almighty we conduct at the seder. Our Sages required us to recite the praises of the Almighty within the context of four cups of wine, so as to lend a festive and honorable dimension to this shira. The drinking of these cups of wine, then, serve as an expression of shira. Rav Meir Ha-kohen observes that whenever we encounter the singing of shira in Tanakh, it always comes in response to a victory over enemies, the elimination of a threat posed by a hostile nation. Benei Yisrael sing shira after the drowning of the Egyptians (Shemot 15); they sing shira again at the well in the wilderness, which Chazal explain was the site of the miraculous death of the Emorites who tried to kill Benei Yisrael (see Rashi, Bemidbar 21:15); Yehoshua sang a song of praise after his victory over the Canaanite kings (Yehoshua 12); the prophetess Devora sang shira after the defeat of Yavin (Shoftim 5); and David sang to God after he was saved from his enemies (Shemuel II 22). We might add to this list Chazal's criticism of King Chizkiyahu for neglecting to sing shira after the miraculous destruction of the Assyrian army outside the walls of Jerusalem. Rav Meir Ha-kohen observes that shira is sung only when a threat is eliminated; we never find the singing of shira for a kindness performed that does not involve the defeat of a hostile enemy.

Therefore, the four cups of wine on Pesach, which serve as an expression of shira at the seder, correspond only to those expressions which relate to Benei Yisrael's freedom from Egyptian oppression. Their entry into Canaan undoubtedly marked a momentous occasion, but it did not entail the elimination of a formidable threat from an enemy nation. Therefore, the promise of "ve-heveiti" does not warrant a fifth cup of wine.

The Imrei Kohen adds that with this in mind we can understand the common practice in Jewish homes to pour but not drink a fifth cup - the cup of Elijah the prophet. Having been exiled from our land, we await our final redemption, which Eliyahu himself will herald, when we will once and for all defeat those who seek our destruction and return, in peace and security, to Eretz Yisrael. When this happens, we will, indeed, say shira over a fifth cup of wine, the cup of "ve-heveiti" - celebrating our ultimate victory over our foes and final return to our ancient homeland.

WEDNESDAY

At the beginning of Parashat Vaera, God instructs Moshe to deliver the message of His promise of redemption to Benei Yisrael. As we discussed earlier this week, this message falls upon deaf ears: "They would not listen to Moshe, due to their crushed spirits and cruel bondage" (6:9). Immediately thereafter, God gives Moshe a second instruction: "Go and tell Pharaoh king of Egypt to let the Israelites depart from his land." The following verse records Moshe's predictable response: "The Israelites would not listen to me; how then will Pharaoh heed me, a man of impeded speech?!"

Though instinctively we understand Moshe's reaction, many commentaries have struggled to understand precisely what he means. Moshe argues that if Benei Yisrael did not heed his promise of redemption, then how can he possibly expect the cruel, hostile king to set them free? This argument, however, seems to have a logical flaw. The verse explicitly attributed Benei Yisrael's refusal to listen to their "crushed spirits and cruel bondage," a factor which obviously has no parallel with regard to Pharaoh. Why, then, would their deaf ears necessarily preclude the possibility that the king would listen?

The simplest answer, perhaps, is that Moshe's question takes all of this into account. Benei Yisrael did not accept Moshe's consolation because of their suffering. Pharaoh, Moshe suspected, is likely to refuse his order to set the slaves free out of arrogance and stubborn rejection of any higher authority. Moshe's argument works under the assumption that it is far easier to deliver a message of hope to the downtrodden, even if they have already lost all hope, than it is to change a stubborn heart. Moshe assesses his two tasks - to infuse Benei Yisrael with a sense of encouragement, and to force Pharaoh's hand - and realizes that the second is far more difficult than the first. Therefore, if he failed in his first mission, he cannot possibly hope to succeed in his second.

When seen in this light, the personality of Pharaoh, as portrayed throughout this narrative, provides us with an important lesson regarding religious life: there is nothing more dangerous than overconfidence and stubborn refusal to change. By definition, we can never improve if we never consider the possibility that we are wrong; if we are unwilling to change our current course, we cannot grow. Pharaoh could not accept divine authority and could not admit to the moral failing of his nation in subjugating Am Yisrael. Moshe initially despairs from bringing about a change in the king's stubborn heart. In the end, of course, it is not he who will change Pharaoh's heart, but the Almighty: "When Pharaoh does not heed you, I will lay My hand upon Egypt and deliver My ranks, My people the Israelites… And the Egyptians shall know that I am the Lord…" (7:4-5).

THURSDAY

Today we will discuss the verse which we cited in concluding yesterday's edition of S.A.L.T. Before beginning the process of the ten plagues, God informs Moshe that as a result of these plagues Pharaoh will eventually be forced to surrender to the Almighty and free the slaves: "And the Egyptians shall know that I am the Lord, when I stretch out My hand over Egypt and bring the Israelites from their midst" (7:5). Commenting on the words "et yadi" ("My hand"), Rashi makes a brief and very puzzling statement: "Yadi mamash, le'hakot ba-hem" ("My actual hand, to smite them"). Generally, it is understood that references to human limbs in the Torah's description of God are to be understood metaphorically, as an anthropomorphic illustration of God's actions. What could Rashi possibly mean when he comments that "My hand" in this verse must be understood as "yadi mamash" - "My actual hand"?! Does this not appear to deny the principle of divine incorporeality?

A compelling explanation of Rashi's remark is suggested by Rav Yaakov Weinfeld, in his "Mishnat Yaakov." The Hebrew word for hand, "yad," takes on numerous other meanings in Biblical syntax. For example: "place" ("al yad" - Rashi, Bemidbar 2:17), "testament" or "memorial" ("yad va-shem" - Yeshayahu 56:5), "oath" (Rashi, Shemot 6:8), and "agency" ("be-yad" - Bemidbar 15:23). Though all these meanings clearly have some association with the word's original definition as hand (see Rashi, Bemidbar 2:17), nevertheless, in all these instances the word "yad" takes on a different meaning.

Rashi here in Parashat Vaera seeks to resolve the apparent redundancy in this prophecy to Moshe. In the previous verse, God declares, "When Pharaoh does not heed you, I will lay My hand upon Egypt and deliver My ranks, My people the Israelites… " What, then, does He add here, in our verse, when He proclaims, "… when I stretch out My hand over Egypt"? To what does each of these two "hand motions" refer?

Rav Weinfeld suggests that Rashi succinctly answers this question by interpreting "yad" in the second verse as "hand." The first verse employs the word to refer to God's agents, the means by which He will punish Egypt - specifically, Moshe and Aharon who brought the plagues upon Egypt. In the second verse, however, God informs Moshe of the eventual makkat bekhorot, the smiting of the firstborn, which, as we know from the Haggada, was performed by the Almighty Himself, as it were, without any intermediary means. God dealt the final blow directly, without empowering any other force. Rashi therefore clarifies for us that "yad" in this verse indeed means "hand." Obviously, it is meant in the allegorical sense, just as "the Lord's ears" (Bemidbar 11:1) must also be understood figuratively. All Rashi meant is that the word "yad" here indeed means "hand," as opposed to "yad" in the previous verse, which must be interpreted to mean "agent." This second verse describes God's direct involvement in the freeing of Benei Yisrael. After Pharaoh will refuse to let them leave after witnessing the first nine plagues, which were to demonstrate divine power as expressed through natural forces, God will intervene directly and smite the Egyptian firstborn. At that point, Egypt will "know that I am God" and let the slaves free.

FRIDAY

Before Moshe and Aharon confront Pharaoh in Parashat Vaera, God tells them that when Pharaoh will demand a miracle or wonder to prove their case, they should throw down their staff and it will turn into a serpent (7:8). Moshe does as he is told, and turns his staff into a snake. Pharaoh then summons his sorcerers who come and do the same; they throw their staffs which also turn into snakes. However, Moshe and Aharon ultimately win this competition, when their staff devours those of the magicians (7:12).

The question arises as to why God ordered Moshe and Aharon to make this initial attempt at impressing Pharaoh by simply turning their rod into a snake. God obviously knew that Pharaoh's magicians could rival this trick. What more, the Midrash tells that when Moshe and Aharon turned their staff into a serpent, Pharaoh laughed at their foolishness, trying to impress him with a trick that even Egyptian children can perform. Clearly, the point here was for the staff of Moshe and Aharon to devour the magicians' staffs. So why did God initially have Moshe and Aharon turn it into a serpent?

Some have suggested that this trick served as a symbol. The prophet Yechezkel (29:3) describes the Egyptian Pharaoh as "the great serpent, sprawling in its channels." The Egyptian monarchy always relied on the Nile River as its source of strength and sat comfortably just as a giant sea-monster sprawls tranquilly through its waters. By turning a staff into a serpent, God perhaps signals to Pharaoh that he, "the great serpent," is nothing but an inanimate, powerless stick of wood in the Lord's hands. God did not intend for this trick to impress Pharaoh, but rather to warn him of his vulnerability, which Pharaoh of course never acknowledged.

A different explanation is suggested by Rav Shimon Schwab, in his "Ma'ayan Beit Ha-sho'eva." God undoubtedly foresaw and anticipated Pharaoh's response to the staff's transformation into a snake. He specifically wanted to show the king that although his kingdom has made considerable and impressive achievements in the fields of sorcery and astrology, their powers are limited. Their achievements are at best temporary; only divine power has everlasting results. Therefore, God specifically wanted Pharaoh to summon his magicians and perform the same trick, so that Aharon's staff would ultimately devour theirs. This would demonstrate the fundamental difference between the limited, unstable results of human genius, and the limitless, unparalleled power of God.

Though mankind is encouraged to build, create, develop, and invent, we must always remember that our accomplishments pale in comparison to the Almighty's. Regardless of how successful our efforts are, we cannot go at it alone, without God's constant assistance and support.

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