Parshas Yisro: Outside Advice

 The modern insularity of the traditional Jewish community is fascinating on many sociological levels. As pure as we often declare ourselves, there are not a few ways in which the outside world has influenced our traditional life, although we have often created weighty dispositions on why these are acceptable. Lengthy, indeed unending, debates could be had over whether this is good or bad, and why it is that in our most recent eras the Jewish people have become particularly wary of outside influence. At the same time, it is important to be honest with ourselves and recognize that sometimes good things come from unexpected places.

 This week, we read about Yisro, the father-in-law of Moshe. Yisro was a man of great accomplishment who was seen as a leader among his own people. According to the Midrash, he was once an advisor to Pharaoh and he was a man who had explored every system of faith that then existed. In the Torah itself, he is listed as a priest of Midian (Shemos 2:18). This man, this foreigner who worshiped an array of false beliefs, is named seven times in the first perek of this week’s parsha and referenced as Moshe/his father-in-law without his name another seven times. For those familiar with the idea that the Torah does not waste words, that is an exceptional number of mentions. Even more so, the entire parsha is called in his name.

 Yisro is best known for advising Moshe to set up a system of judges and not to bear the burden of administrating Klal Yisrael by himself. He came to Moshe, bringing Moshe’s wife Tzipora and their two sons, in the time between the crossing of the Yam Suf and the arrival of Bnei Yisrael at Sinai. Their reunion appears to have been one of great fanfare, with Moshe lavishing attention upon his father-in-law. During this time, Moshe recounts all that has happened and Yisro praises Hashem and acknowledges His power. The next day, Yisro witnesses how Moshe single-handedly sits as magistrate settling disputes among the people. Yisro’s great advice is to set up a layered system of judges so that Moshe only has to deal with the most difficult of cases, leaving him time for all of his other responsibilities.

 To be honest, and perhaps the perspective is warped by having lived in a society built upon the foundations of biblical law, this does not seem like some sort of particularly brilliant, unfathomable idea. Certainly, great empires, and even smaller fiefdoms of the time, had hierarchical systems. So why does the Torah make such a big deal about Yisro’s suggestion?

 There are several layers of answers. While it may not have been a unique concept in the world, it was advice from which all of Klal Yisrael benefitted, and for this reason it would be worth mentioning. Another reason so many pasukim are dedicated to this topic is as a lesson of hakaras hatov, recognizing the good; It is a reward for Yisro for the good that he did for Klal Yisrael.

 It might be, however, that Hashem wanted there to be a written record of how Klal Yisrael can benefit from others. Although the Midrash tells us that Yisro converted to Judaism, this is as yet to come. It is obvious that he has great sympathy for the Israelites, especially after hearing the details of their journey and the miraculous feats that brought them out of Mitzrayim. Yisro makes his suggestion to Moshe without any motive other than to benefit Moshe and Klal Yisrael, and his system is implemented even before the Jewish people receive the Ten Commandments at Har Sinai.

After centuries of persecution, the modern Jewish community is often loathe to let other people into their world. There are good reasons for this, especially in a time when so many popular mores and morals are antithetical to basic Torah values. From Parshas Yisro, however, we are given a clear message that good advice can come from without just as much as from within, and indeed, sometimes it takes an outside point of view to help us see our challenges.

 

This Dvar Torah is dedicated for. a refuah shelaims for Rivka bas Golda and liluy NIshmas Dovid Chaim ben Shmuel Yosef Hacohen

Parshas Beshalach - Life Patterns

 This week's parsha is Parshas Beshalach. It is an exalted parsha that captures some of the most important moments in the formation of the Jewish nation - specifically, the crossing of the Yam Suf (Sea of Reeds) and the singing of the great Shira (song). And yet, interestingly enough, it is also a parsha full of downfall and disappointment. All too often the Israelites balk at challenges both simple and exaggerated. 

One might think that when Hashem set down the Torah, He would have separated these events, and yet no sooner is it recorded in the Torah that Miriam lead the women in song then it is written how Bnei Yisrael travelled three days and were unable to find water. These two events are side by side in Shemos 15, verses 20 - 22. The rest of the parsha - two more perakim - follow a similar pattern: great wonder, discomfort and worry, distress, Divine resolution with great wonder, and repeat. 

If we are really honest with ourselves, much of what we read about inParshas Beshalach is beyond our understanding. Seas parting, water spurting from a rock hit by a stick, and manna from heaven all sound quite supernatural (as, indeed, they were in the purest meaning of the term). Nevertheless, many of us read the reactions of Bnei Yisrael with a "holier than thou" attitude of "Well, if I saw such miracles, I wouldn't complain like they did!"

The oft quoted "Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it," is a deep truth. The face is, sadly, that even those who know history well fall into familiar traps. The Torah in general, and Parshas Beshalach in particular, does not hold back in reminding us how easily we err - how almost natural it is for us to trip over our own feet. But it does this by also being completely open about the fact that the topography of life is hills and valleys, that life can be challenging. 

From singing for joy at their miraculous salvation, it only took 3 days for an undertone of complaint to begin. The Midrash says this was the Erev Rav, the add-ons who joined Bnei Yisrael as they left Mitzrayim. But even the most faithful must have been shaken when the war band of Amalik snuck up from the rear and attacked, when Bnei Yisrael survived because their leaders pushed themselves through the spiritual challenge. 

There are seventy levels of learning the Torah. We read it as history, as parable, as a rule book, as a book of doctrine...We read it as our national story, as our family's story, and as our personal story. The Torah does not smooth the edges. It is a book that tells us an aweful lot (well, everything, really) about real life. and real life is bumpy. Life is miraculous salvations followed by unexpected disappointments and continual repetitions of variations of the same. 

Perhaps the question is perspective. Do you perceive life as mostly bad with moments of good or mostly good with some moments of challenge? Perhaps it does not matter so long as when you are in those challenging moments you raise your hands upward and give Hashem the opportunity to lend you strength and at your height of joy you remember to raise your voice in praise and sing out those positive feelings.

This Dvar Torah is dedicated to a refuah shelaima for Rivka bas Golda and L'iluy nishmas Dovid Chaim ben Shmuel Yosef HaCohen.

Parshas Bo - Dark Times

This week’s parsha has much to unpack, but given the world in January 2022, this Dvar Torah will focus on Mitzrayim and Choshech, Egypt and Darkness. While darkness was the penultimate plague that punished the Egyptian people, choshech seems particularly significant to Mitzrayim.

 

Mitzrayim is the Hebrew name for Egypt. Egypt is a place, a country on the Northern edge of Africa. Mitzrayim, however, is far more than a place. It is, according to Jewish tradition, like a state of mind. At the heart of the word is tzar, which means narrow, and tzara, which means trouble. The end of the word, is a pluralization, and the mem at the beginning is the preposition “from.” Mitzrayim, then was a place of narrow troubles.

 

Mitzrayim was a terrible place for Bnei Yisrael. We faced almost complete physical and spiritual oblivion, and then came Moshe and the ten makkos (plagues). It is quite clear in all of Jewish learning that the Children on Israel were not affected by the plagues. They had water to drink when the Nile turned to blood. There were no frogs in their beds or lice on their heads. And, according to the Midrash, during the plague of darkness, they could see. Indeed, it is generally understood that during the darkness that was so oppressive that the Mitzrim could not even move, the Israelites followed the Divine command given by Moshe to go into the homes of their Mitzri neighbors and assess what silver and gold they had. They took none of it during choshech but went back to ask for it in the hours leading up to their departure.

 

There is another significant Midrash about Mitzrayim that tells us that during the plague of darkness many Bnei Yisrael died. Shocking as this may sound since the plagues were meant to be part of the vehicle of redemption, these were the men and women who did not care enough about their natural heritage to take the risk of faith. These were the people who, even after sign after sign after sign, could not or would not believe that the Divine hand would protect them. These, according to the midrash, were a large majority of Bnei Yisrael. They had the ability to have light and vision, but they chose darkness.

 

Just a few years ago, most people rejoiced in the idea that we were becoming a global economy. Commerce, culture, travel, and information knew no physical bounds. It seemed the best of times.  In just under two years, however, we are mired in the opposite, in what feels like the worst of times. The world has narrowed immensely. Travel prohibitions, supply shortages, and government regulations have pushed us back into the tzarim, into the narrow places.  Personal travails, negative media portrayals, and national devastation by a seemingly endless parade of unveiled scandals have made us aware of our tzaras, our troubles.

 

In Mitzrayim, we were slaves. In Mitzrayim, we were loathed by the people around us. As the horrors of the plagues mounted, as life became more and more difficult for the Mitzrim but not for the Israelites the antipathy only grew. Yes, by the later plagues the Mitzrim were telling Pharoah to let the Israelites go, but it was from fear and anger and resentment. And then came choshech. Three days of unfathomable darkness. We cannot understand what that darkness was, physically, as it is not something anyone else has ever experienced, but we can certainly understand the metaphorical meaning of darkness.

 

As noted earlier, the tzar of mitzrayim means both narrow places and trouble. Perhaps some of Bnei Yisrael were trapped in Mitzrayim spiritually. They were drawn to the taivas (desires), to the physicality, to the sexualities, to the idolatry, and etc, that were rampant in the culture of Mitzrayim. Others of Bnei Yisrael, however, were trapped in MItzrayim physically, by the slavery and their inability to pull themselves out of a place they knew was bad. These Bnei Yisrael suffered from tzaros, from troubles. When the plague of darkness came, those Israelites who were deeply connected to Mitzrayim were the ones who could not leave their narrow places, who could not envision living a completely different type of life, one dedicated to kedusha.

 

It often feels like we are living in the worst of times. The last generation or two of North American Jews found it improbable to believe that anti-Semitism was still a real problem. And yet as the world has constricted, as political unrest and pandemic decline has made its impact, anti-Semitism is on the rise. The world has entered a period of darkness, a period of chaos and distress. And now we must realize the metaphoric statement that not all of us will emerge from the darkness.

 

The Midrash specifies that only 1/5^th of Bnei Yisrael went out of Mitzrayim. That means that eighty percent of Bnei Yisrael died during choshech. Eighty percent of Bnei Yisrael, refused to metaphorically see the light, to choose to walk in the ways of their forefathers and live by the anthropological term “ethical monotheism.” Eighty percent of the people were stuck in the narrow confines. This idea does not help us understand why people we expect to be honest and good and holy do bad things, but perhaps it helps us put into perspective how times of darkness can shape the future.

 

According to Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch (I believe), when the Mitzrim came out of the darkness and saw that the Israelites had been able to move but none of their possessions had been taken, they became aware of the moral distinction of Bnei Yisrael. Let us clarify that – they became aware of the moral distinction of 1/5^th of the Israelite slaves whom they had loathed and oppressed. Because of this new awareness, they freely gave the gold or silver that the Israelites then requested because they were now aware of the harm they had done to them.

 

Yetziyas Mitzrayim, the way in which Bnei Yisrael was removed from Mitzrayim, had purpose. Hashem could simply have changed the mindf-rame of the Egyptian nation just as He hardened the heart of Pharoah. Indeed, Hashem could have frozen the Mitzrim on day one and had Bnei Yisrael walk straight out of Egypt, taking the necessities as they left. But every part of Yetziyas Mitzrayim had purpose that echoes through the generations.

 

In times of travail, in times when everything seems to be terrible, we are given a choice. We can choose to be like those Bnei Yisrael who were stuck in their narrow ways, or we can be like those Bnei Yisrael who knew that they were suffering but chose to see through the darkness. It isn’t easy. Imagine three days of walking about with many of your neighbors frozen and watching many of your brethren falling to their lack of faith. Hold strong my friends, for after the darkness comes freedom.

 

This Dvar Torah is dedicated to a refuah shelaima for Rivkah bas Golda, and lilui neshama Dovid Chaim ben Shmuel Yosef HaCohen.