Torah & more… תורה ועוד

My teary friend told me that while helping her husband find a document on his laptop, she came across more than 850 porn clips. Yes, she knew he “is a man” and might have watched “one or two here and there long ago” but 850 were hard to stomach, especially the bestiality rape and other painful images.
When confronting him, he said: “850? Are you making this number up?” And: “I made a mistake: I shouldn’t have asked for your help in the first place”. And then: ”You’re overreacting. You have issues”.
Looking it up on google (“porn and relationships”) just made it worse. She described it “like walking into an endless battered women shelter”. It went on and on, about the husband who’s blaming his wife for his behavior; the confusion and the shattered self-esteem, the demolished joy and loss of security and trust in the relationship; the trade of intimacy and love making for rough bed-conquests, and on and on. I was overwhelmed just listening, so I opened my own search: what does Judaism think about…
Let’s see if we can take a detour and come back, yes, via this week’s parasha.
Pekudei seems to repeat again the last stages of the building of the Mishkan. Most commentators look at it as a “count” of the materials, but the question is, why? We’ve already counted it all before, and the current parasha count is incomplete!
Rav Hirsch (19th century) tells us (maybe warns us-) that translating pekudei as “counting” is wrong. The root for lifkod, P.K.D. is never used in conjunction with plain numbers and counting “stuff” (in contrast with lispor and limnot), only with remembering people. We see it when G-d “remembers” (pakad) Sarah and she conceives (Genesis 21:1); when Joseph tells his brothers that “G-d will indeed remember them” (pakod yifkod), asking to be buried in the Land of Israel (Genesis 50:24), and when G-d says to Moses, “go tell the elders that I have indeed remembered you (pakod pakadeti)… taking you to a land of milk and honey” (Exodus 3:16-17). Next we find the word “mifkad”, a national census which appears in the beginning of the Book of Numbers. Interestingly, the count in the beginning of the Book of Numbers is identical to the one mentioned here- 603,550 men, 20 years old and up. And how are those included in the census called? “pkudim”, the ones who are being “counted”, “remembered”. Likewise, in Modern Hebrew, the same root is used in the IDF: “lehitpaked” is what the commander says when the soldiers count themselves; “nifkad” is an AWOL (absent without leave, namely missing, uncounted) soldier. Pikadon – is a deposit in the bank, and on the other hand, meaningless sex can be referred to as a mispar, just a number.
Why do we count? A mother goose “counts” her eggs, and can detect changes in their numbers. We count our baseball cards, stamps, pets, jewelry, and little fetishes we collect. Basically, we count things we care about to make sure ‘it’s all there’. We count time: when is Shabbat, how many days is the omer, how long till I graduate. We don’t look at our families and say, ‘I have “about” 2 parents alive’. When we daven (pray) we count 10 so we cant say kadish (prayer for someone who passed away). We do this because we value each person as a whole, unique world, made in G-d’s image, yet at the same time, during the Mishkan count, people were counted by bringing “half a shekel”, indicating a whole which is part of a great puzzle. We are part of a bigger picture and our actions are not isolated. We count every person because every person counts, and you can see where I’m going with this.
When we see that nothing matters about a human being (and yes, often a woman), not if she is kind or loving or talented or educated or interesting or successful or hurt or pained; when people are dehumanized, used and reduced to a combination of selfish pleasure object \ beast, it’s ok to “overreact”. Just a little.
In a way, it’s like being pulled back to go to Egypt, where we can “enjoy” bondage, inhumane treatment, and animal worship. Or, we can muster the strength to keep going onward to the Promised Land, where we can grow up in a partnership with people and G-d. The last word (2 words) in the Book of Exodus is “bechol mas’ehem”, throughout their journeys. This is when the cloud will cover the People and protect them. Everything will be provided, but the Torah is adamant: Going back is not an option.

Shabbat Shalom.

Disconnecting to Connect: Vayakhel 1
Finally, the biggest miracle is in this week’s Torah portion! Not the Exodus and not the Splitting of the Sea; not the Manna raining from the Heavens and not even the Giving of the Torah. Why would any of those be miracles? They were all made by G-d, and by definition, He can do anything. The real miracle is when we do something special, something out of the ordinary, and here it comes, almost lost, almost unnoticeable within all the details, but after two and a half Torah portions with instructions how to build the Tabernacle, we’re about to actually begin the project. And the miracle? The Children of Israel are listening! They are following directions! Amazing. And now, boring or not, we’re going to hear about it all over again, except now it’s not going to be as a commandment but as an action.
Moses gathers all the people in order to start constructions: “And Moses assembled all the congregation of the Children of Israel, and said unto them: ‘These are the words which Hashem has commanded, that you should do them” (Exodus 35:1)… We can feel the excitement. Everyone is approaching, hammers, needles and other tools and materials in hand, all ready, finally! Then Moses continues: “Six days shall work be done, but on the seventh day there shall be to you a holy day, a Sabbath of solemn rest to Hashem”… Wait, aren’t we building? What is Shabbat doing here??
Shabbat is mentioned a few times throughout the Torah. It says we should “keep it”, “remember it” but how do we know exactly what to do, what not to do? Many of the rules regarding Shabbat are deduced from this section. Moses, by telling the people to work 6 days and dedicate Shabbat as a holy day to Hashem davka here, places Shabbat before all Mishkan related work. That means that anything to do with the construction of the Mishkan is not allowed on Shabbat, giving us the list of 39 melachot, or creative activities.
But there is another way to understand this parasha’s opening: Moshe assembled everybody to build the dwelling place for G-d, and so – this is what they are doing. Shabbat is not a deviation from the topic but part of it. As Rabbi Joshua Heschel said, Shabbat is in time what the Mishkan is in space. In times that we don’t have the physical structure, the wooden planks, colored cloths and golden layered ark, we will still have a “space for G-d” in our midst. Back in Exodus 25:9, we were told: “And let them make Me a sanctuary, that I may dwell among them”. The Mishkan, tells us Moses here, is one way to build G-d a sanctuary, a physical way. Another way is to have Shabbat. Like the Mishkan, Shabbat is a place to enter where where can disconnect from the daily routine and connect back to G-d.
This & That: Vayakhel 2:
“Dy Vehoter” is a common expression in modern Herew. It means – there is enough and too much. I‘ve never given much thought to its origin or deeper meaning until one day I found it in this week’s Torah portion: “For the stuff they had was sufficient for all the work to make it, and too much” (Exodus 36:7). Kudos to Mechon-Mamre for excellent translation, and for resisting the temptation to make sense out of a verse which doesnt. Because, how can there be “sufficient stuff” and “too much (stuff)” all at once?
“Enough” – means, it’s just right, while “too much” means a surplus, so which way is it?
This happens in many other Jewish issues. When asked which way is it, this or that, the answer is often, Yes. Namely, both alternatives, but only when they appear together. Neither option alone would be correct, and in some case, accepting only one half might be even heretical. Instead, we’re asked to hold on to two seemingly contradictory ideas at the same time. Examples?
Early on, we’re taught that humans are made in G-d’s image and from dust. Which way is it? Yes. Abraham is given the blessing to be like the stars in the heaven and the sand of the sea. Which way is it? Yes. And this week, “enough” and “too much”. Which way is it? You guessed it. Yes.
Let’s examine what each adds to our understanding of our place in the world, for that is the Torah’s purpose to begin with. So, if we say (in this case, the material brought for the construction of the Tabernacle), we have enough, “enough” means the amount we have is just right. That means, that without the gift of any one of us, the Tabernacle will be lacking. Wow. That can be a source of pride, and even power: see, without me, this could not be done! Oohh! I’m so great! Everything hinges on me!!
Comes the other half of the verse to balance things out: Sorry, there is too much. Too much? What does it mean “too much”? Does that mean that this project could have been done without me?? Oohh, what a disappointment! I might not be needed!
These are the two conflicting messages one has to hold simultaneously: Yes, you’re needed; No, don’t let that get to you. Yes, you’re one and only; No, don’t think you’re more important than someone else. There is “dy vehoter“.
Acquiring Wisdom: Vayakhel 3
How does one become wise? Read book, google info, listen to elders? The Torah tells us something interesting about acquiring wisdom: “And Moses called Bezalel and Oholiab, and every wise-hearted man in whose heart G-d had put wisdom”…. (Exodus 36:2). This theme repeats again and again in these sections of building the Mishkan, the idea that G-d gives wisdom to those who have wisdom. Well, that does not seem fair! Shouldn’t She give wisdom to those who don’t have it?? How do you get wisdom if you’re already supposed to have it?
One of the first verses in the morning prayer is: “resheet chochma – yir’at Hashem” – “the beginning of wisdom is (to be in) awe of G-d”(Psalms 111:10). This is then juxtaposed with another idea that “everything is in the hands of Heavens except the awe of Heavens (G-d)” (Babylonian Talmud, Brachot 33:3). From that we learn, that there is a foundation to wisdom which is up to us. We are like a gardener that needs to till the ground before sowing. Some work is on us before we can expect the gift of wisdom.

Shabbat Shalom!

The sounds of a party reached Moses’ ears, descending from Mt Sinai. Approaching, he caught a glimpse of a Golden Calf glistening in the sun but after 40 days up there, learning Torah with G-d Himself and harmonizing with the angels, he was in such a high spiritual place, nothing fazed him. He knew just what he had to do: Carefully, he handed the precious two tablets to Joshua, his ever devoted servant, and with a smile, tapped Aaron on the shoulder. “Hey, Bro, what’s happenin’?”
“Nothing much”, replied the older brother, catching his breath and whipping his sweaty forward with the sleeve of his priestly garment, “A small celebration. The peeps missed you so much!”
“Well”, says Moses, still smiling, “I do appreciate the effort and the gesture; it’s beautiful. But, ahem”, he clears his throat and pulls Aaron to a secluded area where they can speak privately, “to tell you the truth, I’m not 100% comfortable with it. Do you mind if we pencil in a time to talk about it some more? How’s next Tuesday between the morning and afternoon offerings? Thanks. And thanks for taking care of things while I was away. I tell you, Sinai? That was something!”
If by now you’re scratching your head, having no idea where is this story in our scriptures, rest assured: It’s nowhere. I made it up as the “politically correct” alternative to Moses’ famous angry outburst, smashing the tablets, grinding the golden statue into the drinking water and killing some of the key participators, and I’m curious, do we like this soft spoken, very controlled, all smiles Moses better?
The sages are very critical of Moses’ anger: Rambam (Maimonides, 12th century) says that “anyone who is angry is like worshiping idols”. He is quoting the Babylonian Talmud (Shabbat 105) which says: “the one who tears his garments in anger, breaks his vessels in anger and scatters his coins – in anger, should be viewed in your eyes as an idolater”. Reish Lakish, famous sage and leader of the 1st-2nd century, is quoted to say: “anyone who gets angry, his wisdom departs from him”.
What is idolatry? I see it as a statement about priorities; about putting G-d first, and all else – second. Us getting angry means we put our ideas of what supposed to happen before what G-d caused. We express distrust that this – whatever this is – is what meant to be, what is best for us, what G-d wills. We are ungrateful to life’s gifts. We “want” a better outcome, another option, a different god, and all that can be viewed as idolatry. And the wisdom departing? That is a consequence, not a punishment because when we’re consumed with anger, there is no room for anything else inside us, and any clear, constructive thought, just evaporates.
And yet.
A few days ago, we went to see the movie “Her”. Briefly, set in the Los Angeles of the slight future, the story follows Theodore Twombly. Heartbroken after the end of a long relationship, he is delighted to meet “Samantha,” a female voice (a flat and expected “oh honey” female voice) of a computer operating system. Soon, their relationship “deepens” and they “fall in love”.
As is evident from the critics, some who rave about it and some who walk out 15 minutes into it, this is simultaneously an excellent, thought-provoking and most aggravating film. It raises questions about love and “coupleship”, and looks into who we are, where we’re going to and what can become of us in this tech-driven age. Not to ruin the movie for you if you haven’t seen it, let’s just say that eventually, the prince and Samantha don’t live happily ever after. In spite of her seeming sophistication (guessing in advance how to arrange his thousands of emails, unable to sleep “thinking of him” etc etc), the bottom line is – she doesn’t have toes. It’s great fun to talk to her (especially when she says everything he wants to hear -) but when he discovers she also “talks” to another 800,000 some people at the same time, 6000 some of whom she is in love with, sleeping with a blinking square, half the size of one’s iphone, seems less and less like a good idea.
And the point (now that I ruined the movie for you after all)??
Yes, anger can be dangerous and it should be treated, like all fire, with much care and caution. It’s really too bad Moses broke the tablets, but we need to make peace with who we are as humans, because the alternatives are much worse.

“And you shall command the Children of Israel…” this is how this week’s reading begins, rather than in the usual “and G-d spoke to Moses saying”…
This is the only portion throughout the Torah since Moses’s birth where his name is not mentioned even once, and as we can imagine, 3000 years of careful text exploration, didn’t miss this seemingly minor detail.
Accordingly, Moses’s name is not mentioned this week because of happened during the sin of Golden Calf (coming up next week).  G-d told Moses that he’s had it with this People, and that He and Moses should start from scratch with another nation which they can run as they wish. Moses begs and asks G-d to rethink this idea. ‘After all, says Moses (in a much more Biblical language), who is going to want to be Your People if every time they mess-up, You go crazy and annihilate them all? No great PR, dear G-d! I prefer that if you have to punish someone, or give up on someone, why, you might as well erase me from Your book, just don’t harm them’. Thus, because he said, “erase me from Your book” (Exodus 32:32), there is one Torah portion where he is not mentioned. This portion usually falls in the beginning of Adar, and even though, according to tradition, we are extra joyous when the month of Adar begins, we also recall a sad day, for during this month we commemorate Moses’ birthday and the day he died (7th of Adar, coming up this Friday).
As usual, some see the fact that Moses is missing from one portion as a “punishment” or as a “lesson”: Moses too should be careful with his words, and not say serious things “stam” (for nothing). But there are those who see it as a compliment: Moses asked G-d “please erase me”, and G-d, like a generous King who loves his minister dearly – listened to his request, and metaphorically, gives him His pen and lets him “scribble” as he wishes. And the greater lesson? That the same words can produce opposing commentary, and still, call it Torah and keep it for thousands of years.
And yet, another commentary: Last week, we read Truma, the section about collecting donations and gifts, and Moses’s name is mentioned numerous times. But this week, we talk about distribution of the funds, and when it comes to distributions, there might be suspicious and accusations so it’s better for leaders to avoid this. Moses, too, was cautious and stayed away…
“And you shall command”… Last week we saw how each person brought something to the building of the Mishkan, the mobile Temple. People brought gold, silver, crimson cloth, acacia wood, and maybe Moses was saddened for not bringing anything. But we’re taught (in Pirkei Avot 4:3) that “there is no person who doesn’t have a time and no thing that doesn’t have a place” (where he/it can shine and contribute). Therefore, G-d says to Moses, ‘just because you don’t bring “stuff” like everybody, doesn’t mean you don’t have a special gift to give. Your gift is your teaching. “You shall command”. And the proof that this is a better gift? One day, the Mishkan will be gone but the Torah that you Moses have taught, remains forever’.
The name of this parasha, “Tetzave” is indeed related to command and thus, mitzvah; but it is also related to tzavta, Aramaic word for “togetherness”, and tzevet, modern Hebrew word for “team”. Maybe to teach us that there is a connection between the mitzvoth and our togetherness?
Either way, these were just 2 words from this week’s portion so much is left (hint in pictures below). Join us this Shabbat at our home for Chamin & Chavruta to continue our learning.
Shabbat Shalom!

We are offered zero transition from the amazing experience of revelation at Mt. Sinai to a lot, A LOT! of laws, commandments, legal rulings… We will discover that we’re actually not here for the special effects, drama love stories, miracles and wonders. This was all intro. Rather, we’re here for a long term relationship with Him, and in order to make such a connection be meaningful and lasting, we need the daily details, not the occasional wow.
This is important to remember when reading Parashat Mishpatim, one of the most loaded in miztvot in the Torah: 53 all together: 23 “positive” (to do’s) and 30 “negative”. In my searches through commentary for this week’s reading, I came across a story about a community interviewing a new rabbi, who was “tested” with a complicated halachik question. Within a short time, he came out of the library with a blank piece of paper. To the astonished congregants, he explained: ‘The question you presented me with – is unreal. Usually, when I work to solve real-life challenges, I have “si’ata deshmaya” –help from Above, and now, nothing. You must have invented a query based on non-reality!’ The message is double: for one, halachik, legal rulings, go better with a little Help, and at the same time, it is not possible to hold a halachik-theoretical discussion that doesn’t have anything to do with real life. Halacha comes from the root lalechet, to walk; it’s a trail and it has a detailed, readable navigation map.
The Torah is super practical, super “tachles”, leaving very little to our imagination. We’re told how to put on – and tie – our shoes (right, then left, then left, then right ), which blessing to say when coming out of the bathroom (depending on what we did), what to say when we eat an apple, a tomato, a candy; how to treat old people, sick people, poor people, mourners, murderers. We’re not trusted to know almost anything simply by our “intuition” and “feelings”, let alone what’s right to do, so different from everything around us!!
The verse “eye for an eye” appears this week (Exodus 21:24-25). Gandhi is quoted to say: “If we believed in ‘eye for an eye’, we’d all be blind”, but the Torah’s intend is exactly the opposite: it asks us to be fair and precise. Supposedly, in the ancient world, if someone poked another’s eye, his own eye would be poked. If someone would drop a brick on another, the “brick-dropper” would have a brick dropped on him. That seemed “fair” and “progressive”. The Torah came to say – no.  How can anyone measure how much is an eye worth for someone? What if I don’t see well? What if I’m color-blind? And how do you measure someone’s foot? What if I limp and you’re a runner??
The Torah in essence said: make sure the punishment fair, measured, and fits the crime. An “eye for an eye” means, not more and not less. But how can we measure all this? You’re right, we can’t. Therefore, monetary values were assigned, which eventually became the modern world’s system of damages, compensation, etc.
The duties of husband to his wife also appear here in 3 words: “she’era, ksuta, onata”- her food, her clothing, her sexual rights (Exodus 21:10). The portion begins with how a master should treat his servant. It’s important to note that even after the Exodus and “freedom”, the Children of Israel had “slaves”, more in the sense of servant or someone who owed money, not as a cast of people. As we delve into the complexities of the situation, the questions arise: What should be done if such a servant has a wife? Does she go with him when he goes free? What if he came with her? What if they married while in captivity? What are her basic rights? Thus the Torah concludes: A husband owes his wife at least these 3 basic things: She’era, which usually is translated as food, but can also be spiritual food (from the Hebrew “she’er nefesh”); ksuta – clothing; onata – her sexual rights, and yes, I avoided “conjugal” because I couldn’t get a satisfying definition, and I wanted to be clear: her – rights. Already 3000 years ago the Torah said that the man is charged with satisfying his woman sexually, according to her needs and wishes. It is her right – and his duty, rather than the (sad, often common) opposite. We can trust the sages that they added sub-categories galore, so much so that another story tells about a student who hid under his rabbi’s bed, waiting for the rabbi to be making out with his wife. When the rabbi noticed him (right in the middle, so says the Talmud!), he called to him, surprised, to get out immediately, but the student (who was already a rabbi himself), said: “Torah hi velilmod ani tzarich” – this too is part of the Torah and I need to learn it! (Talmud Bavli, Brachot 62:1).
So who will pray for rain in California?
I don’t know.
So??What does that have to do with anything here?!
The fact that California only had 2-3 good rains since October is heavy on my mind; the fact that we’re barely thinking about beginning to think about it now, seems even worse. You can tag it to my Israeli genes, well trained in “saving water”, and yet, the unseasonably brown hills around us are daunting. The lack of real reaction is scary.
And what does Parashat Mishpatim have to do with it? Maybe it can remind us that the devil – and in this case, G-d, is in the details; that big things are made of lots of little pieces, and that we can’t be self-absorbed, oblivious to the what’s going on around us because that nothing is “somebody else’s” business.

Shabbat Shalom.

“If God indeed created everything, that means that God created evil; and if we hold that our works define who we are, then God would also be evil?!” This is a challenge posed by a professor to his students, “proving” that faith in God is nonsense.
A student raises his hand. “Wait, professor. Does cold exist?”
“Of course! Have you never been cold?”
The young man replies, “Well, in fact, sir, cold does not exist. What we consider cold is in reality the absence of heat. A body or object transmits energy in the form of heat. At absolute zero (-460 degrees Fahrenheit), all matter becomes inert and incapable of reaction. But cold, sir? We have created this word to describe how we feel when we have less heat. How about darkness? Light we can study, but we cannot measure darkness, so we created a word for lack of light. The same goes to the absence of noise and, finally, evil. Evil does not exist, sir, not unto itself. Evil is a word we made up to express the absence of what we define as good. Evil is a result we perceive, just like the cold and darkness that comes when there is no heat or light rather than a creation by God.”
“Well,” the professor answers, “have you ever seen, felt or heard God?”
“Professor,” the student tries again, “what if I asked the class if they had seen, felt or heard your brain?”
Legend has it (and it might be legend) that the student in this story is Albert Einstein, who also said, “God does not play dice with the universe,” implying a God, a universe and a relationship between them, a concept we find in this week’s Torah portion.
Yitro is named after Moses’ father-in-law. Originally a non-Jewish, Midianite priest, he was a spiritual seeker who opted to join the children of Israel after hearing about the miracles God had made for them.
The main event in this week’s reading, however, is the giving of the Aseret Hadibrot, known as the Ten Commandments but better translated as the Ten Statements, or just the Ten Things.
The top 10 include keep Shabbat, honor your parents and do not murder. But the opening is peculiar: “I am the Lord your God. I brought you out of Egypt from the house of bondage.” It doesn’t read like a commandment.
What is this?
The first thing it says is that, like it or not, there is a God, however we wish to define “God”; that God does things for us; and that we might want to consider that fact in our life. The sages draw a parallel between the top 10 and another set of 10: the statements with which the world was created (“And God said, let there be light…” etc., in Genesis 1), bringing us back to the idea of a creator, a universe and a relationship.
Isaiah, the prophet of this week’s Haftorah, says in another chapter that God creates “light and darkness, makes peace and creates evil” (Isaiah 45:7). When the rabbis borrowed this verse for morning prayer, they changed it slightly to say, “God creates light and darkness, makes peace and creates everything.” Even for our sages, it was hard to admit head-on that God is the creator of evil!
But in a way, it’s as if God had a decision to make when creating the world: make a simple world with no perceived absences and thus no choices for us; or make a more complicated world — with heat and cold, light and darkness, good and evil — and challenge us to figure it out. God chose to create this world, a world that allows us to become his partners in completing creation, so that we may choose how to live in it.
When we cross the sea, following Moses, are we upset because there is mud sticking to our toes, or can we see the “wow” of the water standing upright on both sides? Do we pick ourselves up and join, like Yitro?
The question before us therefore is different from what we might initially think. It’s not, “Do we believe?” or “Is there proof of God’s existence so I can believe?” — because there is always enough “proof,” both for belief and disbelief. Rather, the question is, “Do we want to believe?” That part of the relationship with the divine is on us.

This entry is inspired by my son’s bar mitzvah drash :-)It also appears this week in the jweekly: http://www.jweekly.com/article/full/70571/torah-even-our-sages-resist-the-idea-that-god-allows-evil-to-exist/

How many of us sing in the shower? What is it about the shower that makes us sing??
Maybe we inherited the combination of water and singing straight from this Torah portion, B’shalach, where we find the grand song, sung by everybody after the crossing of the Sea of Reeds.
There are so many wow things about this that it’s hard to know where to start. For example, the story of this birth of our nation as a birth of a human being, going from a place where everything is provided, dictated by someone else; a very tight and narrow place through water, like the passage of a baby through the birth canal, to open space, to freedom. Initially, we are very young and needy. We complain, oh, how we miss Egypt! The great food we had there! It was soooo good! What, were there no grave for us there so you took us here?! We complain a little like infants: We want what we want when we want it – now or sooner!!! Growing up is going to be a challenging journey.
Moses in turn, manages to comfort and sooth each of their concerns. There was a group who wanted to go back to Egypt; others wanted to fight the Egyptians; others still wanted to pray, while others wanted to give up their life jumping into the sea. Moses said:

“ויאמר משה אל העם אל תיראו, התיצבו וראו את ישועת ה’ אשר יעשה לכם היום, כי אשר ראיתם את מצרים היום לא תוסיפו לראותם עוד עד עולם. ה’ ילחם לכם ואתם תחרישון
To those who wanted to commit suicide, he said, rise and see God’s salvation; to those who wanted to go back to Egypt, he said, “The Egypt that you saw today (or – until today), you won’t see again”; to those who wanted to fight, he said, “Hashem will fight for you”, and those who wanted to pray, he said, “and you’ll be quiet”, as if, this is not the right time for prayer.
But this verse can be (of course) understood differently: “Hashem will fight for you, and you will keep quiet” is one way to understand it: “Fight” in Hebrew – yilachem – shares its root with bread – lechem, as in struggle for basic sustenance; tacharishun – can mean, be still, but it can also mean “you will plow”: (lehacharish – be quiet; lacharosh – to sow), perhaps sharing a form of purposeful, quiet participation and attentiveness. I’m not sure yet, but this same verse can be read: ‘you will plow and Hashem will give you bread’ describing the complementary partnership that is yet to come.
Yet, because for now, life outside of the womb is magical. For the Children of Israel, water came from the ground (in the form of traveling wells), and bread – rained from the heavens (in the form of manna).
The manna came down every day, except Shabbat, in the exactly right amount needed. Every day, the people went to sleep with no clear knowledge of the food for the morrow, except faith. Maybe that is also symbolized by the water coming from the ground, because water is often a metaphor for the Torah. Perhaps we can learn that their foundation was Torah; and perhaps therefore, it was possible to have more faith in the manna coming, whenever it might come.
Back to the song:
The sages teach that “a maidservant saw on the Sea more (miracles) than Ezekiel (the prophet) saw in his visions”. There were so many miracles to witness that even the prophets will have a hard time to match the kind of closeness to G-d in his revelations. That feeling of “wow” and exuberance by those who truly “saw” was captured by the song.
And yet, another layer: The song started out with Moses and the people, expressing their joy and longing for God to deliver them. But it wasn’t complete until Miriam joined it. Miriam, who’s name originally meant “bitter”; the little girl who stood by another water to watch over brother, float to safety, joins her brother, and with her, all the women, their tambourine and joyful instruments. Throughout the years in slavery, the women were the ones who pushed for surviving and thriving, and we’ll get back to that at another parasha. For now, we can just note that only when everybody got together, now the celebration would be complete.

And — The very best clips from “Prince of Egypt”. Enjoy!

Deliver Us

When You Believe

Shabbat shalom!

I learned the following Yehuad Halevi poem back in high school:
עבדי זמן, עבדי עבדים הם
עבד ה’ לבדו חופשי
על כן בבקש כל אנוש חלקו
חלקי עם ה’ אמרה נפשי
Here is my translation:
Time-bound servants – are slaves of other slaves
The servant of G-d, he alone is free
Therefore, when each human asked for their lot
I am with Hashem, said my soul to me

The issue and slavery and freedom is so pivotal that most of the Torah is dedicated just to that. To this day, a Jew is not supposed to eat even a piece of bread without blessing afterwards and mentioning “yetzi’at mitzrayim”, the Exodus from Egypt. The word mitzrayim literally means, “a narrow straight”, and, by contrast, the Land of Israel is referred to as “eretz tova u’rechava”, a wide and spacious place. Is this a Jewish Agency aliya sales pitch? Perhaps. Or perhaps “narrow” and “spacious” have little to do with the physical dimension of a place, because, after all Egypt is huge, Israel is small. So what is it about Egypt that was “narrow”? Slavery is, in essence, to “narrow” someone’s life and existence. The Israelites sank deeper and deeper into “slavery”, into “narrow mindedness”. In Hebrew, the same root gives us not only tzar (narrow) and mitzrayim (Egypt) but also the word tzarot, trouble, or as it’s better known in Yiddish, tzures.
What is slavery? It means we aren’t “free”. But what are these terms? We often equate freedom with “doing whatever I want”, but is that true freedom? Influenced by so many pulls – commercials on every street corner, the Jones’ new car, the newspapers, tv, and internet which enter our own homes to bombard us with crafty messages from within – are we truly “free”?
In his 4 succinct lines, Yehuda Halevi warns us that at the end of the day, what we can choose is only who we worship, not if.
This past Tuesday, Christmas eve, felt a little like “erev chag” here – people rushed to get their shopping done, stores closed early, the roads were busy with everyone trying to get home in time, and later that evening, the streets were still, peaceful and quiet all around. For just one day, something was more important. By contrast, don’t even get me started about Black Friday, and the pilgrimage festival to the modern temples; the fact that people have been trampled to death by others, dedicated to their idols and their worship.
The Torah understands the complexity of the issue. In this week’s portion, the beginning of the Ten Plagues, we’re also told that one can’t just be magically pulled out from slavery. It took time to get into it, and it will take time to get out. It necessitates a mind change and therefore needs stages along the way. The Children of Israel are described as having “kotzer ru’ach”, physically, shortness of breath, but also spiritually, shortness of spirit. That is the first thing to fix. The plagues don’t just try to impress Pharaoh but first and foremost give hope to the slaves, reminding them that there is something higher, another way of life and existence out there they should want to pursue. Then the journey can begin.
But, even after the magnificent power demonstration, the Children of Israel will not be sent to the desert “to do whatever they want”. The famous song “Let My People Go”, left out the last word:
“שלח עמי ויעבדוני”
Let My people go so they can worship Me”, says G-d, and we’re back to Yehuda Halevi. We’re called to choose, not freedom as recklessness but as a form of committed relationship.
Shabbat Shalom