Nachshon

B’shalach

Ex. 13:17-17:16

 

Précis: And when Pharaoh “had let them go” (b’shalach), the story of the Exodus from Egypt is almost concluded. Carrying with them the bones of Joseph and the “spoils of Egypt,” Moses leads the Israelites by way of the Red (or Reed) Sea. They cross the sea ahead of Pharaoh’s pursuing army, which subsequently drowns in the returning waters. Moses sings his triumphant Song of the Sea, and Miriam’s song of joy follows. The Israelites begin to murmur against Moses and Aaron because of a lack of food and water. God provides heavenly “manna” to eat and provides water as well. The Shabbat is introduced as a day of rest, even before it appears in the Ten Commandments. In their first battle led by Joshua, against Amalek, the Israelites are successful as long as Moses’ hands remain in the air, and with the help of Aaron and Hur (who support Moses’ arms), they prevail. 

Ex. 14:21-28: “Then Moses stretched out his hand over the sea, and all that night the Lord drove the sea back with a strong east wind and turned it into dry land. The waters were divided, and the Israelites went through the sea on dry ground, with a wall of water on their right and on their left. The Egyptians pursued them, and all Pharaoh’s horses and chariots and horsemen followed them into the sea…The water flowed back and covered the chariots and horsemen—the entire army of Pharaoh that had followed the Israelites into the sea. Not one of them survived.”

            This is a story imprinted on us from ancient times to modern storytelling. Brave Charlton Heston Moses raises his arms and the seas split. But there is a midrash which tells another story (BT Sotah 36b-37a). There, the Sages imagine the Israelites standing in terror at the water’s edge, with Pharaoh's army ready to pounce upon them. Moses raises his hands and nothing happens! With Moses’ apparent failure to produce another miracle, one individual, by the name of Nachshon steps into the water and begins to walk. The water rises to his knees, his waist, his chest, his neck, and up to his nostrils. Suddenly, the Sea recedes as we are told in the text itself.

            The moral is simple: God may act in mysterious ways, but it is incumbent upon us to take the first steps.  Freedom may be God’s gift, but it is obtained by courage, faith, and risking danger. As I have written before, my generation was raised and has lived in a Golden Era for American Jews. That was achieved through the toil and efforts of those who came before us. Our parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents dreamt the American Dream of freedom and took action to fulfil those dreams.

            Nachshon had faith but also saw that faith alone was insufficient. Personal action, however dangerous and seemingly impotent, was needed. Can we do less than Nachshon to protect our American Dream?

Principles

Bo

Ex.10:1-13:16

 

Précis: God sends additional plagues (locusts and darkness) and alerts Moses that the 10^th and final plague will follow. God instructs Moses on the institution of the Passover. Then, the final plague, the death of the first born, is wrecked upon Egypt. The Israelites, accompanied by the “mixed multitudes,” leave Egypt, carrying with them the “spoils of Egypt” given to them by the Egyptians. The parasha ends with a repetition of the laws regarding Passover.

 

Ex. 10:8 “How long shall this one be a snare to us? Let the men go to worship Adonai, their God! Are you not yet aware that Egypt is lost?”

            Pharaoh’s servants plead for Pharaoh to allow the Israelites to leave. He continues to defy God, and as a result all of the Egyptians are struck with the deadly final plague.

            We have long admired leaders who “stand by their principles.” But when does such adherence become a dangerous disregard for consequences? A traditional Jewish text advises that “Those who stubbornly refuse to learn from the negative consequences of their behavior will suffer doubly for their stubbornness.” Pharoah learned this lesson only after the devastation of his country by the death of all of the first born in the final, terrible plague.

            Today, we see in the United States and in Israel leaders who ignore the potential disaster of continuing to stick to their “principles.” Can Israel find peace through a dream of a “Greater Israel” which annexes the West Bank? Is the “ownership” of Greenland more important than NATO which has protected us for 75 years, and is the use of masked para-military in our country’s cities turning our country into an autocratic state?

Truth and freedom

Vaera

Ex. 6:2 - 9:35

Précis: God reiterates His intention to free the Israelites from bondage and to create a covenant with them. Moses goes back to Pharaoh to seek release the Israelites. Pharaoh refuses and we see the first of the fabled plagues: blood, frogs, fleas, beetles, cattle disease, boils, and hail. Pharaoh relents after each plague begins, deciding to let the people go, but then God “hardens Pharaoh’s heart” and he refuses to allow them to leave.

 

Exodus 8:27-28 “Pharaoh summoned Moses and Aaron and said, ‘Go, sacrifice to your God here in the land.’ But Moses said, ‘That would not be right. The sacrifices we offer the Lord our God would be detestable to the Egyptians. And if we offer sacrifices that are detestable in their eyes, will they not stone us? We must take a three-day journey into the wilderness to offer sacrifices to the Lord our God, as He commands us.’”

            Why did Moses not tell the whole truth to Pharoah? Not just here, but throughout the Exodus narrative, Moses never states that the Israelites would be leaving forever. As Rabbi Sacks has noted (Rabbi Sacks Legacy, 1/23/25), Moses makes it seem as if all he is asking for is permission for the people to undertake a three-day journey, to offer sacrifices to God and then (by implication) to return to Egypt. It is only after the Israelites have left does Pharaoh understand the full truth, when he asks (Ex. 14:5) “What have we done? How could we have released Israel from doing our work?

Commentators throughout the ages have offered a variety of suggestions: it was impossible for Moses to tell the truth to a tyrant like Pharaoh; technically, Moses did not tell a lie; God told Moses deliberately to make a small request, to demonstrate Pharaoh’s cruelty and indifference to his slaves; this was war between Pharaoh and the Jewish people, and in war it is permitted to deceive.

Sacks notes that the interactions between Moses and Pharoah are part of a pattern of half-truths and deceit in Genesis: both Abraham and Isaac present their wives as sisters; Jacob claims to be his brother to receive a blessing; he also leaves his father-in-law secretly, and gives a false excuse to travel behind Esau following their reunion; and Jacob’s sons are deceitful about Joseph’s death, and deceitful again by stating that they are merely seeking circumcision from the inhabitants of Shechem to avenge their sister’s rape.

These episodes are not accidental or coincidental. As Sacks notes, the implication seems to be that outside the Promised Land, Jews in the biblical age are in danger if they tell the truth and are at constant risk of being killed or enslaved. Why? Because they are powerless in an age of power.

Nevertheless, in Judaism, truth is the essential precondition of trust between human beings. The Torah in the interchange between Moses and Pharaoh is not justifying deceit. Rather, it is condemning a system in which telling the truth may put one’s life at risk. Judaism is a religion of dissent, questioning, wrestling with God, and making “arguments for the sake of heaven.”  Every Amidah ends with the prayer, “My God, guard my tongue from evil and my lips from deceitful speech.”

            The Torah in this vignette is telling us about the connection between freedom and truth. Where there is freedom there can be truth. Without freedom, there can be no truth. 

We are not free to do less than we are able to accomplish

Five years ago this week, on January 6, 2021, I wrote the following d’var Torah, which I reiterate today with an important PS at the end.

Shemot

Ex. 1:1 - 6:1

Précis: With this parasha, we begin the second book of the Bible, Exodus. In Hebrew, the title for this book is “Shemot” (names) because the first verses begin with a listing of “names” of the Israelites who came down to Egypt with Jacob, to dwell in Goshen in response to Joseph and Pharaoh’s offer. 

            A new Pharaoh has arisen who “does not remember Joseph.” He enslaves the Israelites and orders the killing of all male children. A Levite male child is born, is hidden by his parents, and is sent down the river in a reed basket where he is saved by Pharaoh’s daughter. He is subsequently identified as Moses.

            Nothing appears in the text about Moses’ childhood, other than that he is raised in the house of Pharaoh. As an adult, Moses witnesses a taskmaster beating a Hebrew and slays the taskmaster. Next, he witnesses a fight between two Hebrews. When he attempts to intervene, one Hebrew mentions Moses’ killing of the Egyptian. Fearing disclosure, Moses flees to the desert.

            There, Moses becomes a shepherd in the camp of Jethro, a Midianite “priest.” He encounters the burning bush and learns God’s “name.” Moses receives his charge to free the Israelites and is provided with signs to authenticate his mission. Before leaving Jethro, Moses marries Zipporah and they have a child. Moses and his brother Aaron go before Pharaoh and ask that the people be freed to worship God in the desert. They are refused, and the burdens are increased on the slaves, who become angry with Moses for his interference. The parasha ends with God telling Moses, “You now will see what I will do to Pharaoh.”

 

(From Jan. 6, 2021) Yesterday’s attempted coup and invasion of the Capitol by a mob, many carrying Trump banners, others American flags, and others toting the Confederate Battle flag of traitors reminded me that our Jewish tradition can be a source for solace at this awful time.

            Michelle Missagieh, writing in MyJewishLearning.com (1/17/17) talks about the excuses Moses makes in attempting to reject his responsibilities of leadership. She cites three instances. First, Moses is instructed to gather the Israelite leaders, and when he demurs, God promises to smite the Egyptians (presumably with plagues) in Exodus 3:15-22. Moses says he will lack proof, but God tells Moses how to turn a rod into a snake as evidence of his competence (Ex. 4:1). Moses again offers an excuse: he is “slow of speech.” God reassures him once again. God pushes Moses, Moses pushes back. Moses is the opposite of our current President: he rejects his right to leadership. Missagieh suggests that Moses’ hesitation comes from the common human fear of failure. She cites Buber’s account of the Hassidic Rabbi Zusya, of the late 1700’s, who before his death said, “In the coming world, they will not ask me: ‘Why were you not Moses?’ They will ask me: ‘Why were you not Zusya?’”

            All Moses needed to do was to be himself. What is important is not overestimating oneself with the sin of narcissism, and what is equally important is not unduly humbling oneself. What is important and necessary is knowing one’s place in the world and understanding one’s obligations. We are not challenged to do more than we are capable of or permitted to do, but neither are we free to do less than we are able to accomplish.

            This week, I offer a challenge to Americans of good faith everywhere, and to President-elect Biden and Vice-President-elect Harris in particular: do not do more than you are legally capable of but do no less. Know your place under our constitutional government and respond to the needs of all of the American People, with the kind of leadership which Moses exhibited. 

             Remember, the story of the Exodus was not over in a single day; in fact, it was a more than 40-year struggle. But that struggle ended with the realization of great hope: the attainment of the land. May our own goals for a reunion of the American polity and a rededication to our constitutional processes come soon and in our day. Ken yehi ratzon.

 

P.S. Five years have passed. President Biden did his job and successfully prosecuted the rioters and the seditious mob which invaded Congress, who sought to overturn not only the election results, but our Constitution. We now know with certainty that then-President Trump encouraged the rioters, endangering even his own Vice President. Five years after the Jan. 6 Capitol attack, Trump is using presidential power—through mass pardons, firings at the Justice Department and FBI, and official messaging— in an Orwellian attempt to recast the violent siege as a peaceful protest and to legitimize false claims that the 2020 election was stolen. He still accuses former Vice President Mike Pence of refusing to block certification of the electoral votes and continues to blame police for the violence.

            To add to his lengthy list of offenses against our country and the Constitution we can add his unforgivable (though nonreviewable) pardons of the mobs who threatened our nation’s future and attacked the brave police defenders of our national capitol. These seditious convicted felons are now seeking “compensation” for the “wrongs” done to them.

Five years ago, I prayed for a rededication to our constitutional processes. Unfortunately, the current President defies all for which I prayed. I can only repeat that prayer today, with the continuing hope that it happens quickly in our time.  

Ephraim and Manasseh

Vayechi

Gen. 47:28 - 50:26

 

Précis: As the Book of Genesis ends, Jacob lived (vayechi) in the land of Egypt for 17 years and dies after giving a final, poetic, individualized ethical testament to each of his sons. In a great funeral procession, Joseph, his brothers, and Pharaoh and his court bring Jacob’s body to Machpelah to be buried. At the end of the parasha, Joseph dies after exacting a promise to bring his remains to the land of Israel as well.

Gen. 48:20 “He blessed them that day and said, “[In the time to come] Israel will use you as a blessing. They will say, ‘May God make you like Ephraim and Manasseh.’”

   As I have mentioned before, I’ve adopted the tradition of blessing my sons with these words each Shabbat (sometimes in person, sometimes on Zoom or Facetime or Messenger). Why has this tradition persisted for thousands of years?

One traditional commentator (Yalkut Yehudah) suggested that they were the first two Jewish children born in exile, and they kept their identities (as is evidenced by their Hebrew names) and so later generations were blessed by their names, as a way to continue their identification with the Jewish People. Another suggestion is that the blessing was by a grandfather to his grandsons (the only such instance in the Bible), and while parental/child relationships may be difficult, relationships between grandparents and their grandchildren are more usually marked by love and kindness.

            There is one other interpretation which I find particularly moving. Recall that sibling rivalry is a constant theme in Genesis. When Jacob adopts his grandsons as sons and gives them blessings, he places his right hand on the younger brother, Ephraim, giving him “priority” over his older brother Manasseh. Tradition holds that Manasseh and Ephraim remained close and loving, while such a switch caused a great rift between Jacob and Esau. The sons of Joseph were the exemplars of brotherly love.

            When we bless our children, it is not only for their health and happiness. We pray that they will love each other like Ephraim and Manasseh.