S.A.L.T. – PARASHAT VAERA

By Rav David Silverberg

Motzaei Shabbat

            The Gemara, in a well-known passage in Masekhet Pesachim (53b), draws a connection between the second plague that God visited upon the Egyptians – the plague of frogs – and the story told in Sefer Daniel of Chananya, Mishael and Azarya.  These three Jews were high-ranking officials in the Babylonian government, who defied the emperor’s order to bow before a statue of his image, even at the threat of death.  The three would-be martyrs were cast into a furnace at the king’s orders, yet miraculously emerged unscathed.  The Gemara comments that Chananya, Mishael and Azarya drew inspiration for their heroic act from – surprisingly enough – the frogs that descended upon Egypt.  The Torah indicates that the frogs invaded even the Egyptians’ kindled ovens (7:28), sacrificing their lives for the sake of God.  Chananya, Mishael and Azarya figured that if the frogs sacrificed their lives despite not being commanded to glorify the divine Name, then certainly they should surrender their lives for the sake of bringing glory to God.

            Several commentators struggled to explain why these three men needed to resort to the incident of the frogs.  Already Tosefot note that martyrdom was halakhically required under the circumstances.  Although one opinion allows worshipping idols for the purpose of saving one’s life, Tosefot comment, all views require surrendering one’s life rather than publicly transgress the Torah, and Chananya, Mishael and Azarya were asked to publicly bow to an idol.  Why, then, did they have to look to the frogs of Egypt as an example to follow, if Halakha very clearly mandated that they surrender their lives rather than bow?  (It should be noted that the Maharsha rejects Tosefot’s assumption that Chananya, Mishael and Azarya were ordered to bow publicly, and thus claims that they were not necessarily required to surrender their lives.)

            Rabbenu Tam, as Tosefot cite, suggests that in truth, there was no transgression entailed in bowing before the graven image of the Babylonian emperor.  The order was for the people to bow as an act of homage, not as an act of religious worship.  Technically speaking, these three officials would not have transgressed any Torah law by bowing, but they nevertheless chose to defy Nevuchadnetzar’s edict to glorify God’s Name, inspired by the example of the frogs in Egypt.

            Tosefot then cite a different approach from the Ri.  In his view, Chananya, Mishael and Azarya took example from the frogs not to surrender their lives, but rather to remain, rather than flee.  They had the opportunity to escape Babylonia, but yet chose to remain even though they would be required to surrender their lives.  They looked to the frogs in Egypt for inspiration to remain in Babylonia, where they would then be required by Halakha to give their lives, rather than escape the situation.

            The Ri’s comments have been cited and discussed by later scholars in the context of tragic situations of religious persecution where certain individuals had the opportunity to escape.  The question arose whether those individuals should take advantage of their opportunity to escape, or whether they can, or perhaps even should, remain with their communities and suffer their tragic fate with them.  The Shevut Yaakov (vol. 2, 106) notes that from the Ri’s comments it appears that people in such a situation should remain and surrender their lives, rather than escape.  After all, according to the Ri, Chananya, Mishael and Azarya had the opportunity to escape, but learned from the example of the frogs that they should remain, even at the risk of death.

            The Shevut Yaakov then notes other sources that indicate that to the contrary, it is permissible, or perhaps even required, to flee in order to escape a situation that would require martyrdom.  He ultimately determines that the situation of Chananya, Mishael and Azarya was likely unique, and that we cannot draw practical conclusions from their decision to remain in Babylonia and submit themselves to martyrdom.  The Shevut Yaakov’s final ruling is that one may certainly escape to avoid a situation requiring surrendering one’s life, but one is permitted to remain if he feels that this will glorify the Name of God by setting an example of sacrifice for the sake of God.  This ruling is adopted by the Netziv, in his Ha’amek She’eila (Parashat Vaera, She’ilta 42).  The Peri Chadash (on the Rambam,  Hilkhot Yesodei Ha-Torah 5:3) rules that a person in this situation must flee to save his  life, and the only exception to this rule is a person of special stature, such as Chananya, Mishael and Azarya, who may remain as a source of inspiration to the Jews subjected to persecution.

Sunday

            Parashat Vaera begins with God commanding Moshe to return to Benei Yisrael and convey to them His promise of redemption.  While the people had initially reacted enthusiastically to Moshe when he arrived from Midyan and announced their imminent freedom (4:31), their spirits had since been shattered by Pharaoh’s refusal to let them free and the harsh decrees he issued in response to Moshe’s demand.  God now appears to Moshe and instructs him to return to Benei Yisrael and convey His promise that they will be freed and led to their homeland.  Moshe conveys the message to the people, but they did not accept it: “they did not listen to Moshe, due to shortness of spirit and hard labor” (6:9).

            The Midrash Ha-gadol comments on this verse, “From here [we may learn] that a person is not held accountable for [words spoken out of] his distress.”  The author of the Midrash Ha-gadol detects the Torah’s sympathetic tone in describing the people’s rejection of Moshe.  They are not held to task for refusing to accept his prophecy; their response was understandable in light of the brutal suffering they endured at the hands of the Egyptians.

            The origin of the Midrash Ha-gadol’s comment is a passage in Masekhet Bava Batra (16b) discussing various aspects of the story of Iyov.  The Gemara cites a verse from the monologue of Elihu, who criticizes Iyov’s friends for their insensitivity toward his plight.  Elihu declares, “Iyov did not speak out of wisdom, and his words were not [spoken] intelligently” (Iyov 34:35).  Commenting on this verse, Rava states, “From here [we may learn] that a person is not held accountable at the time of his distress.”  Rava apparently interpreted Elihu’s comment to mean that Iyov must be forgiven for questioning God’s justice in the wake of his suffering, as his tribulations hindered his ability to think and speak intelligently.  As Rashi explains in his commentary to the Gemara, “A person is not held accountable – [he is not] liable for speaking harshly out of pain and suffering.”  The Midrash Ha-gadol applies this message to BeneiYisrael’s rejection of Moshe’s prophecy, claiming that this response was excusable in light of the hardships they endured at the time.

            People quite often say offensive or even hurtful things during times of stress, anxiety, pain or frustration.  Of course, we must endeavor to minimize verbal outbursts of this sort to whatever extent possible.  However, the Gemara teaches that we must also react sensitively when people around us speak improperly in times of distress or despair.  If the Almighty does not hold people liable for inappropriate words spoken in times of distress, then neither should we.  It is important to be forgiving and sympathetic to the hardships the people around us experience that might cause them to speak inappropriately.

Monday

            The Ritva, in his commentary to the Haggada, cites an oral tradition (“gemara u-va be-kabbala”) distinguishing the plague of lice from the other nine plagues that befell Egypt.  The plague of lice, he writes, affected even the region where the Israelite slaves lived, whereas the other plagues were confined to the areas populated by the native Egyptians.  The lice did not cause pain or discomfort to the Israelites, the Ritva adds, but it surfaced in their territory.  Indeed, the Torah gives no indication that Benei Yisrael’s region avoided the lice.  It writes, “The lice was in humans and animals; all the earth of land became lice throughout the land of Egypt” (8:13).  The Ritva’s theory also appears in the commentaries of the Rambam, Meiri, Rabbenu Yona, and Tashbetz to Pirkei Avot (5:4).  Interestingly, Meiri cites this point from the Talmud, and the Tashbetz cites it in the name of Chazal, without specifying a source.  However, Rav Menachem Kasher (Torah Sheleima to this verse, note 43) observes that this theory is not mentioned anywhere in the Talmud or Midrashic texts.

            Rav Zalman Sorotzkin, in his Oznayim Le-Torah, notes a possible indirect reference in a Midrash to the fact that the lice affected the region of Goshen where Benei Yisrael lived.  The Midrash (Bereishit Rabba 96) tells that one of the reasons why Yaakov requested that Yosef bury him in Canaan, and not in Egypt, was because he prophetically foresaw the plague of lice.  He feared that if he would be buried in Egypt, his remains would be overrun by vermin when the Egyptian earth transformed into lice.  The Midrash appears to work on the assumption that the entire country’s earth was infested by lice, leaving nowhere for Yaakov to be safely interred.  Evidently, even in the Israelite region of Goshen, the earth was overrun by lice.  This Midrash, then, may perhaps reflect the tradition recorded by the aforementioned sources.

            Why did God extend the plague of lice to Goshen?  Why did He decide that specifically this plague, and not any of the other nine, should occur even in the Israelites’ territory?

            Rav Kasher suggests explaining this tradition as referring not to the actual plague of lice, but rather to natural lice infestations that were common in the ancient world.  The Midrash Lekach Tov comments that the Egyptians were deserving of the plague of lice because they denied the Israelites entry into their bathhouses, which resulted in poor hygiene, including lice.  God therefore punished the Egyptians by inflicting them with incurable lice.  Rav Kasher thus suggests that when the aforementioned sources speak of lice among Benei Yisrael, they refer not to the plague of lice visited upon the Egyptians, but rather the natural lice from which Benei Yisrael suffered and which the Egyptians denied them the ability to relieve through bathing.  The plague of unusual lice affected only the areas populated by the Egyptians, but Benei Yisrael experienced normal, ordinary lice infestation due to their having been denied the right to bathe.

            Rav Sorotzkin proposes a much different theory to explain why the plague of lice affected Goshen.  He cites a Midrashic source (Mishnat Rabbi Eliezer, chapter 19) which states that after the plague of lice, Benei Yisrael were freed from the chore of preparing bricks.  Once the earth was overrun by lice, it became impossible to produce bricks, and so the slaves were finally absolved from this backbreaking operation.  Accordingly, Rav Sorotzkin suggests, it was necessary for the plague to affect all of Egypt – including the areas of Israelite residence – so that they would be freed from the responsibility of making bricks.  If the earth in Goshen had not become infested, then the Egyptians would have been able to force the slaves to use the earth of Goshen for making bricks, and God therefore brought lice even to the areas inhabited by Benei Yisrael.

Tuesday

            The Torah writes in Parashat Vaera, before the story of the ten plagues, “The Lord spoke to Moshe and Aharon and commanded them [to go] to the Israelites and to Pharaoh, king of Egypt, to release the Israelites from the land of Egypt” (6:13).  This verse indicates that Moshe and Aharon were to deliver messages to both Benei Yisrael and to Pharaoh, for the purpose of releasing Benei Yisrael from Egypt.

            As many commentators noted, however, we do not find Moshe and Aharon delivering any message, or issuing any command, to Benei Yisrael until before the tenth and final plague.  In the ensuing chapters, Benei Yisrael are kept along the sidelines, as the stage is occupied solely by Moshe, Aharon, Pharaoh and his advisors.  Moshe and Aharon speak to Pharaoh on many occasions throughout the next chapters, but have no recorded interaction with Benei Yisrael.  It is only toward the very end of the narrative, when the time comes for the people to prepare for their departure from Egypt, that Moshe gives them instructions, commanding them with regard to the paschal offering (chapter 12).   What, then, does the Torah mean when it says, “va-yetzavem el Benei Yisrael” – that God commanded Moshe and Aharon “to the Israelites”?  (Rashi, citing the Midrash Tanchuma, explains this verse to mean that God commanded Moshe and Aharon to exercise patience when dealing with the people.  Other Midrashic texts explain differently.)

            One possibility, perhaps, is that God instructed Moshe and Aharon to lead, teach and guide Benei Yisrael indirectly, through the process that was about to unfold.  God commanded Moshe and Aharon to instruct both “the Israelites and Pharaoh” – but in very different ways.  They were to confront Pharaoh directly, but lead their constituents without any direct encounters.  As we read earlier (6:9), Benei Yisrael were unprepared for the message of redemption; they were not ready to receive Moshe’s instructions and guidance concerning the changes they would have to undergo in their beliefs and behavior in preparation for redemption.  When the Torah says, “va-yetzaveim el Benei Yisrael,” it means that Moshe and Aharon would teach Benei Yisrael slowly and indirectly, by way of the plagues that would begin to strike Egypt.  The sight of divine retribution being visited upon their oppressors would achieve the desired effect of building the people’s faith in God and in Moshe, until they were prepared to listen and obey God’s commands in advance of the tenth and final plague.

            Explicit, direct instruction is not always the best means of educating.  As in the case of the Israelite slaves, people may not be at the point where they can understand or accept the message that others seek to convey to them.  We might be tempted to “say it as is” to children, students or to the people around us, but if they are not ready for an explicit message, it would do more harm than good.  In such a situation, it is preferable to lead and teach by example, to let our personal conduct do the talking, until eventually the people whom we seek to teach are ready to learn.

(Based on an article by Rav Yosef Blau in Yeshiva University’s Enayim L’Torah, 5754)

Wednesday

            Parashat Vaera begins with God speaking to Moshe and instructing him to convey to Benei Yisrael His reaffirmation of His promise to free them from bondage and bring them to Eretz Yisrael.  Moshe did as he was told, but the message fell upon deaf ears.  The Torah writes that the Israelite slaves paid no attention to Moshe, noting two factors that led them to reject his prophecy: “kotzer ru’ach” and “avoda kasha” (6:9).

            “Avoda kasha” clearly refers to the backbreaking labor that the people endured.  The physical pain and suffering they experienced made it difficult, or impossible, for them to listen to Moshe speaking of God remembering His covenant with the patriarchs and promising to adopt them as His nation in His special land.  They endured too much suffering to be able to listen to speeches about such lofty subjects as the covenant with their patriarchs and their designation as God’s nation.

            The other factor that rendered them “immune” to Moshe’s prophecy was their emotional condition, which the Torah describes with the term “kotzer ru’ach” (literally, “shortness of breath,” or impatience).  To what exact condition does this term refer?

            One possibility is that the Torah speaks of the pressure and anxiety to which the people were subjected.  In response to Moshe and Aharon’s initial demand that the slaves be released, Pharaoh adamantly refused and decided to intensify the slaves’ labor.  He accused Moshe and Aharon of disturbing the slaves from their labor by introducing the idea of going into the wilderness to serve God (5:4), and sought to ensure that the people would not harbor any more thoughts or aspirations of freedom.  To that end, the king decreed that the slaves would have to collect their own straw for producing bricks, and yet meet the same daily quota.  The objective of this new edict, as Pharaoh himself stated, was to overburden the slaves to the point where they were mentally or emotionally incapable of harboring aspirations of freedom: “The labor shall be intensified upon the people and they shall be involved in it, so that they do not engage in matters of falsehood”  (5:9).  The pressure of the new workload would occupy the slaves’ time and minds, not allowing them the opportunity to think about, dream about, aspire to, hope for or pray for a brighter future.

            Pharaoh’s new edict achieved its desired goal, and the overwhelming pressure of meeting the daily quota of bricks sealed the people’s hearts and minds.  When Moshe came along and delivered the Almighty’s promise of freedom and an eternal covenantal relationship between Him and Benei Yisrael, they simply had no patience.  All they could think about was the number of bricks that remained for them to meet their daily quota, and strategizing to increase the rate of productivity.  Their minds could not handle lofty prophecies; they were too focused and preoccupied on the daily pressures and rigors of their slave labor.

            This insight into “kotzer ru’ach” is something to which many people today can easily relate.  Too many people overburden their schedules, or find their schedules overburdened, with professional responsibilities to the point where they simply have no time, patience or mental energy left for higher ideals.  The never-ending rat race and incessant pressures cause us “kotzer ru’ach,” impatience for things that are larger than the seemingly infinite details of daily life that we are constantly trying to sort out.  Self-imposed demands of modern life are proving quite successful at achieving Pharoah’s goal.  The lesson of “kotzer ru’ach,” then, is to recognize our limitations, to ensure we allow room in our frequently overcrowded schedules for our spiritual growth and dedication to Torah and mitzvot.  And if we find ourselves with no time, energy or patience to these lofty goals, then we must determine if perhaps we have become our own “Pharaoh,” overburdening ourselves to the point where we are unable to engage in higher, more meaningful pursuits.

(Based on an article by Rav Etan Moshe Berman).

Thursday

            In advance of the fourth plague, the plague of arov (wild beasts), God instructs Moshe, “Arise early in the morning and stand before Pharaoh…and you shall say to him, ‘Thus says the Lord: Release My nation, that they may serve Me’” (8:16).  Commenting on this verse, the Midrash (Shemot Rabba) cites a different verse, from Sefer Mishlei (22:29): “You’ve seen a man who is assiduous in his work – he shall stand before kings, but shall not stand before mendicants.”  The “man who is assiduous in his work,” the Midrash explains, refers to Moshe, who worked efficiently and diligently in constructing the Mishkan.  This quality rendered Moshe worthy of the privilege to “stand before kings” – referring to the Almighty, the King of all kings.  The Midrash concludes that when the verse in Mishlei speaks of Moshe not standing in the presence of “chashukim” (“mendicants”), it refers to Pharaoh, whose country was made dark (“choshekh”) during the ninth plague.

            How can the Midrash say that Moshe did not stand before Pharaoh – something which Moshe did repeatedly throughout the story of the ten plagues?  Even more perplexing is the fact that the Midrash makes this comment in reference to a verse in Parashat Vaera in which God explicitly commands Moshe to appear before Pharaoh!

            Rav Yehuda Leib Ginsburg, in his Yalkut Yehuda (Denver, 1933), suggests that the Midrash sought to explain why God had to emphasize to Moshe to approach Pharaoh “early in the morning.”  Moshe was, after all, the kind of person described by the verse in Mishlei – “mahir bi-mlakhto,” an early-bird, an energetic, diligent, punctual servant of God who fulfilled his missions promptly, as demonstrated through his efforts overseeing the construction of the Mishkan.  Surely, Moshe would have arisen to speak to Pharaoh first thing in the morning, even if God had not specifically commanded, “Hashkem ba-boker” (“Arise early in the morning”).  The Midrash therefore explained that Moshe was prompt and diligent when serving the Almighty, but not necessarily when the time came to visit punishment upon Pharaoh.  When he was instructed to deal with the “chashukim,” to bring darkness upon a once-glorious empire – however deserving it was of its downfall – Moshe would have certainly complied, but with a degree of reluctance.  He would not have rushed into this mission the way he normally attended to his spiritual callings, with zeal and enthusiasm.  God therefore had to emphasize, “Hashkem ba-boker” – the process of the Exodus cannot be delayed any further, and Moshe had to confront Pharaoh promptly.

            Unfortunately, many people approach mitzvot in the precise opposite fashion.  It is specifically the mitzvot that involve confrontation and opposition to detractors that they rush to perform with special fervor and passion, fueled by the excitement of controversy and the gratification of feeling superior.  All too often, it is the confrontation itself, rather than sincere idealism, that drives people to fight for values.  Moshe rushed to obey God’s every command – but when this entailed bringing down his people’s nemesis, he would have, instinctively, proceeded with some degree of lethargy.  The confrontation and struggle diminished from, rather than bolstered, his energy and passion.  The need to confront and oppose our ideological detractors is an important one, but not one which we should relish and savor.  Our passion for mitzvot must stem from a sincere commitment to God, not from the excitement of controversy.  Even when an ideological battle must be waged, it must be approached with a degree of hesitancy and discomfort, and not with excitement over the opportunity presented to fight and compete against opposition.

Friday

            The Torah in Parashat Vaera presents a brief genealogical record of the tribes of Reuven, Shimon and Levi, culminating with the lineage of Moshe and Aharon, the leaders of the process of yetzi’at Mitzrayim that was about to unfold.  Rashi (commenting to 6:26) notes that in two adjacent verses toward the end of this section, the Torah mentions Moshe and Aharon in two different ways – it first mentions Aharon before Moshe (“Hu Aharon u-Moshe” – 6:26), and then arranges Moshe’s name before Aharon (“hu Moshe ve-Aharon” – 6:27).  Citing from the Mekhilta, Rashi writes, “There are instances where it places Aharon before Moshe, and instances where it places Moshe before Aharon, to teach that they were both equal.”

            In what way were Moshe and Aharon “equal,” and why is their “equality” alluded to in this context?

            Rav Soloveitchik zt”l suggested that Chazal refer here to the balance that is required in leadership during critical junctures, such as the time of the Exodus from Egypt.  It emerges from a number of sources that the Sages viewed Moshe and Aharon as representing opposing – yet complementary – models of leadership.  Moshe is generally perceived as signifying the strict demands of the letter of the law.  His persona is commonly associated with the stone tablets, symbolizing rigidity and strictness.  Aharon, by contrast, the “lover of peace and pursuer of peace,” represents flexibility, sensitivity and compassion that must accompany the practical application of the cold, dry principles of the law. 

            Chazal here instruct that the proper model of leadership is the one whereby Moshe and Aharon are “equal,” meaning, a delicate balance is maintained between the uncompromising fealty to the strict letter of the law, and compassion and sensitivity to the complexities of human life.  During complex, turbulent periods in Am Yisrael’s history, such as the period when Moshe and Aharon assumed their roles, leadership bears two basic responsibilities: to meticulously preserve the nation’s values, principles and traditions, and also to tend compassionately to the practical, day-to-day needs and concerns of the people.  Special care and attention is needed to ensure that the preservation of the scholarly tradition does not lead to the neglect of the people, and that the concern for the people’s troubles does not result in the dilution of Torah scholarship or the distortion of Torah principles.  The “Moshe’s” and “Aharon’s” of the nation must work together in full cooperation to ensure that both Am Yisrael and Torat Yisrael are properly cared for, that we emerge from tumultuous periods with both our spirits and tradition fully intact.  We must not allow “Moshe” to come before “Aharon” or vice versa; they must be “equal,” delicately balanced and fused together into a comprehensive, integrated model of Torah leadership.