“This is my G-d and I will glorify Him; the G-d of my father and I will exalt Him.” (Beshalach 15:2)

ראתה שפחה על הים מה שלא ראה יחזקאל וכל שאר הנביאים (מכילתא)

 “The maidservant at the Sea saw what [even] Yechezkel and all other Prophets did not.” (Mechilta)

I was always interested to know, who was this shifcha (female slave/maidservant) exactly; and why would there be a shifcha among Klall Yisroel who are now a free people?

The commentaries are interested to know how Chazal extrapolated their statement regarding the shifcha from the passuk. The Vilna Gaon (Kol Eliyahu), the Maharil Diskin (Chiddushim Al HaTorah) and the Maskil L’David accept basically the same view, with slight variances, as follows. Rashi writes that there are two parts to the passuk. The second half, that of “אלקי אבי וארוממנו”, is to be explained that Klall Yisroel mentioned Hashem being the G-d of their fathers, illustrating a relationship begun earlier than those of them at the Sea. The above commentaries explain that the word “זה” is used twice, once for “זה קלי ואנוהו” and also for “זה אלקי אבי וארוממנו”. Kall Yisroel, however, did not leave Egypt alone. Non-Jewish slaves and maidservants, a.k.a. the Eirev Rav, came along with Klall Yisroel in order to convert. They, being unable to refer to their relationship with Hashem as beginning with their forefathers, substituted “זה קלי ואנוהו” instead. Did Klall Yisroel say both statements? Maskil L’David writes explicitly that Klall Yisroel did say both statements, whereas the Eirev Rav said only “זה קלי ואנוהו”. From the Vilna Gaon and Maharil Diskin it seems that this passuk was truly split; with the Jews saying just”זה אלקי אבי וארוממנו” , and the non-Jewish slaves and maidservants saying “זה קלי ואנוהו” This opinion is also held by Rabbi Chaim of Volozhin (Tshuvos Chut Hameshulash, Pesicha #39). Rabbi Chaim of Volozhin adds a reasoning for Chazal’s reference to the Eirev Rav as “shifchas”; in contrast to the highborn Jewish nation, Chazal dubbed the non-Jewish intending converts as “shifchas” (a figure of a lower status).

The commentaries (ע’ פרדס יוסף עה”ת) explain how Chazal understood that the shifcha saw “more” than Yechezkel. The word “זה” was used at the Sea to connote a direct relationship, as opposed to the general “ואראה” used in the later prophesies. Chazal saw from this that even the “shifcha” (whom we have now deemed either a non-Jewish maidservant or woman of the Eirev Rav or both), who was able to point and say “זה קלי ואנוהו”, truly saw a greater revelation than even the greater of the prophets (for the Presence of Hashem was revealed in such a great way that one could point with the finger and say, “This is my G-d”).

Interestingly, I was shown by a great Talmid Chacham to a difference of opinions amongst the Rishonim regarding the nature of Hashem’s special “revelation” at the Sea. Rabbeinu Bachayei (here) writes that Chazal do not mean to say that the shifcha was indeed greater in ability to grasp loftiness, nor were they wiser than Yechezkel the Prophet. Rather their intention was that Hashem “revealed” Himself at greater levels at the Sea, more than He did to Yechezkel. The Rambam (in his Shmoneh Perakim, towards the end of Chapter 4) however, clearly disagrees. In describing the lofty levels reached by the Jews in the generation of the Exodus and the Desert travels, he writes: “The ‘lowest’ of them was like Yechezkel, as Chazal say.” (This is an obvious reference to the statement of Chazal which we are discussing.) Apparently Rambam understood this statement to be descriptive of the nation’s spiritual heights, which enabled them to have as remarkable a revelation as they did. (This opinion is also held by Shemos Rabba 23:15.)

According to the Rambam, two insights would appear. Firstly, that even the “lowest” Jew at that time was indeed greater, or at least equal to Yechezkal. Secondly, it appears that we need not understand that the shifcha was (at least originally) non-Jewish. In context the Rambam is discussing the great level of the Jewish nation at the time, and yet he uses this statement of Chazal as a proof. This leads one to surmise that the Rambam understood that the shifcha in question was truly Jewish. If so, our original question returns; why she is called a “shifcha” if she was as free as the rest of her nation?

As a final note, the Gemara Sota (11b) tells the story of how the pregnant Jewish women in Egypt would go out to the fields to give birth, and would leave their newborns there. To take them home would mean their being captured and tossed into the Nile. Hashem took care of these babies, sending angels to clean, feed and care for them. When the Egyptians found out about these children living in the fields, they came to kill them. A miracle occurred; the earth swallowed up these children to a depth deep enough to protect them from the Egyptian plows. After the Egyptians left, the children sprouted out of the ground like grass. When they grew up, herds of them came back to their homes. And when Hashem revealed Himself at the Sea, these children “recognized” Him first (having been raised in His presence – see Torah Temima כאן אות ז’), and said: “זה קלי ואנוהו”.  Clearly this Gemara understands that Klall Yisroel said “זה קלי ואנוהו”. Now according to the Maskil L’David, that “זה קלי ואנוהו” was also said by Klall Yisroel, this Gemara can be congruent with the Mechilta. However, according to the Vilna Gaon and the others, this Gemara too needs reconciliation with the word usage of the Mechilta: “shifcha,” וצ”ע.

ויאמר אלהם מלך מצרים למה משה ואהרן תפריעו את העם ממעשיו לכו לסבלתיכם – The king of Egypt said to them, “Moshe and Aharon, why do you disturb the people from its work? Go to your own burdens”. (5:4)

Rashi quotes a Midrash that the tribe of Levi were not oppressed by the Egyptians, which was why Moshe and Aharon, who were from Levi, were freely able to go where they pleased. But why were they exempt?

Ramban explains how every nation had elders and wise men to teach the nation their respective laws. Pharaoh therefore left Levi alone in order to allow them their role. R’ Simcha Ziesel Broide notes that if a person like Pharaoh could understand and accept that every nation, and even it’s slaves, need spiritual guidance and role models, how much more so do we need to respect and cherish Torah scholars, and help establish Torah as much as we can.

Daas Zkeinim explains how the Egyptians slowly manipulated the Jews into working, rather than a sudden enslavement, which could provoke a revolution. The Jews who participated at first were then forced to continue against their will. Yet the people from Levi, knowing that they were destined to serve Hashem, refused to compromise and cooperate. They did not participate on the first day, and never became committed or obligated.

Maharal questions how, if Hashem told Avraham his descendants would be enslaved, (Bereishis 15:13-14.) how could Levi not be included in the slavery? Maharal answers, that truly Sheivet Levi was not included in this prophesy. Levi are the “portion of Hashem” set aside from the rest of the Jewish Nation, dedicated to His service. Rabbeinu Bachye goes so far as to say that Levi was the “tithe” of his brothers.

Pharaoh knew according to the prophesy, that the nation that enslaved Avraham’s offspring would be severely punished. He interpreted that if he did not enslave the entire Jewish nation, he would be free of the repercussions. He chose Levi specifically out of respect, for even Yaakov honored Levi by not allowing them to take part in his burial. His mistake was that Levi are not counted among the rest of the Jews in that prophesy for the above reason, meaning that he did in fact enslave all of Avraham’s offspring as related to the prophesy, and was therefore punished.

The Mishneh L’Melech proves that inheriting the Land of Israel was only possible through being enslaved in Egypt. Anyone who would eventually get a portion in the Land would have to endure slavery; those who were not going to get a portion need not be enslaved. Esav left Eretz Yisroel for this reason; he wanted nothing to do with enslavement. Levi too, who were not to receive a portion in the Land, did not have a reason to be enslaved.

Maharil Diskin shares a fascinating idea. The prophesy to Avraham was that the oppression would start when his offspring would be “strangers in a land not their own.” Since the land of Goshen in Egypt was originally given to Sarah as a gift by Pharaoh, there the Jewish nation could not be “aliens” in Goshen. As long as the Jews resided in Goshen, the terms of enslavement would not begin. The verse states, “The Children of Israel were fruitful, teemed, increased, and became strong – very very much so; and the land became filled with them” (Shemos 1:7). The Maharil Diskin explains that it is implied by the population increase that the land would become filled with them. Why state the obvious? Rather, the pasuk is teaching that they did not want to stay isolated in Goshen, and instead they branched out into the rest of Egypt and became involved in their society. In leaving Goshen, they allowed for their own enslavement. Levi, however, stayed and served Hashem in Goshen.

The Maharil Diskin is also explaines a Zohar (Beraishis 27a). The Zohar expounds on the passuk in Shemos 1:14, וימררו את חייהם בעבודה קשה בחומר ובלבנים כו’, and says, קשה – זו קושיא, בחומר – זו קל וחומר, ובלבנים – זו ליבון הלכה. The Maharil Diskin enlightens us by saying that the enslavement to Egypt occurred only to those not already “enslaved” to Torah. The Gemara (Sanhedrin 99b) says that every person was created to work. The Mishna (Avos 3:5) says, “Whoever accepts upon himself the yoke of Torah, the yoke of the government is removed from him.” We see that when we fulfill our necessity to work by toiling in learning Torah, it “exempts” us from the necessity of doing other, potentially more physical labor. The Jews in Egypt who did not carry out their requisite work by exerting themselves with Torah, needed to fulfill it with the physical enslavement to Egypt. I heard many times from my Rebbe and Rosh Yeshiva, Rabbi Daniel Lehrfield Shlit”a, that proof of this is that Sheivet Levi was not enslaved. Since they continued to learn Torah at the same strenuous and laborious level as the slave-work of the rest of Klall Yisroel, they fulfilled the decree of slavery prophesized to Avraham by learning, instead of manual labor.

In a similar vein, Panim Yafos says that Sheivet Levi learned Torah and kept the mitzvah of bris milah, whereas the rest of the Jewish nation did neither. Sheivet Levi’s merits protected them, unlike the rest.

Finally, the Maskil L’David interestingly learns that the people of Levi were not fully enslaved due to Pharaoh’s own daughter’s intervention. In raising Moshe as her own, Bisya had an affinity towards him and asked of her father to exclude Moshe’s tribe, Levi.

This explanation is particularly fascinating for it implies that up until Basya took the initiative, Sheivet Levi too was oppressed. The Maskil L’David explicitly writes that Sheivet Levi was subjugated even after Basya’s intervention, the only difference being the intensity of the work. While the rest of the Jews worked unimaginably hard, Sheivet Levi only had to perform regular labor.

This would explain a question that has bothered me for a while. If Levi were not oppressed whatsoever, on Pesach, why would Kohanim and Leviim sit and say, “Avadim hayiinu” – “We were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt…”?

[The simple explanation that one could say according to the other opinions that Sheivet Levi was truly exempt from all labor, is that since most of the Jews went through what they did, therefore the Jews as a whole (including Levi) need to recognize and relive this on the Seder night. Another possibility is as the Chasam Sofer writes, there were two types of exiles happening in Egypt. One was physical, the other was spiritual; Bnei Yisrael had reached the 49th level of spiritual impurity due to their Egyptian surroundings and influences. If so, we can suggest that even if Levi was not enslaved physically, they certainly could have been affected and “enslaved” by Pharaoh in the spiritual sense. This would explain why Kohanim and Leviim say “Avadim hayiinu”; spiritual slaves.]

According to the Maskil L’David, however, new light is shed on the matter. Levi too were physically enslaved to Pharaoh.

Even according to the other opinions, that Levi were truly free from enslavement, this does not imply that living in Egypt was a walk in the park for them. Although they may not have been enslaved or worked helpless, their lives were still in danger. This is clear as we see that Moshe’s father, Amrom, went so far as to divorce his wife (Sota 12a). He did so because of the futility in childbirth due to the law that all male newborns be thrown into the Nile. Even after he was convinced by Miriam to take Yocheved back, by which they had their third child Moshe, there came a point when Yocheved could no longer hide Moshe. She was forced to place him in the little boat in the Nile. All this notwithstanding that their family was from Levi. Furthermore, the Meshech Chochma (4:20) writes that Moshe, concerned that the Jewish People would not believe his claims of imminent Heavenly redemption, decided to bring his wife and family to Egypt (a thing he would only do if he was certain that they would not be in danger) in order to heighten Klall Yisroels’ trust in Hashem. Now, if Sheivet Levi were completely above all cruel Egyptian devastation, what proof of Heavenly protection would it be for Moshe to bring his family there?

Furthermore, Yalkut Shimoni says that when Aharon met Moshe on the latter’s way down to Egypt, and saw him bringing his family, he said to him, “We are pained by [the distress of] those Jews already in Egypt, and you want to bring in more?!” Maharal points out that from this we see that clearly life was bitter for Sheivet Levi as well.

After writing all this, and after being bothered for a few years by the question of why Kohanim and Leviim say the Haggada, I was finally shown Simchas

Haregel, the Chida’s commentary to the Haggada. Commenting on the excerpt: “כל המרבה לספר ביציאת יצרים הרי זה משובך” – “All who speak plentifully of story of the exodus is praiseworthy,” the Chida writes that “כל” – “All” is meant to include even Kohanim and Leviim (כל – same initials as כהן לוי). Even they shall speak of the exodus, despite their not being oppressed. The Chida give two explanations for this.

Firstly, even though they were not oppressed, they were not able to leave Egypt of their own volition; so they too were freed by Hashem. Secondly, had the Jews stayed in Egypt but one more second than they did, they would have sunk to unimaginable lows and impurity which would have effected even Levi (similar to the Chasam Sofer quoted above). They too need to recognize and praise Hashem for His salvation. In fact, the Chida writes that he told this over to a Gadol, who replied that he too had thought of this interpretation, and added that converts too are included in “All.” It is for this reason that the next item in the Haggada is the story with R’ Eliezer, R’ Yehoshua, R’ Elazar Ben Azaria, R’ Akiva and R’ Tarfon who sat in Bnei Brak telling over the story of the exodus all night long. Rabi Yehoshua was a Levi, Rabi Elazar Ben Azaria and Rabi Tarfon were Kohanim, and Rabi Akiva came from converts.

From a somewhat historical standpoint, Rav Yaakov Kaminetzky explains at length all these goings-on regarding Levi. As a brief summary, it was all Yosef’s doing. Yosef had a particular wisdom – that of how to stay alive spiritually in a foreign environment. He learned this from Yaakov, who in turn learned it from Shem and Ever in order to survive living with Lavan. This wisdom enabled Yosef to recognize that to insure the spiritual (not to mention physical) survival of the Jewish People, he needed to take measures to isolate and protect Levi. This was in order that they in particular would continue to grow in Hashem’s service uninhibited by anything or anyone, to be a “light” and source of guidance to the rest of the nation. It was Yosef who established the law in Egypt that priests were to be excluded from taxes and other governmental rules and regulations. Due to Yosef’s foresight, Levi played the essential role in the Jewish People’s survival.

Incidentally, there is a fascinating Meshech Chochma in Parshas Vaeira (6:13). The passuk says, “וידבר ה’ אל משה ואל אהרן ויצום אל בני ישראל ואל פרעה מלך מצרים להוציא את בני ישראל מארץ מצרים” – “Hashem spoke to Moshe and Aharon and commanded them regarding the Children of Israel and regarding Pharaoh, king of Egypt, to take the Children of Israel out of the land of Egypt.” The commentaries offer various approaches to understand “ויצום אל בני ישראל” (literally: “to the Children of Israel”); we have translated according to Rashi’s logical interpretation (“regarding the Children of Israel”). The Meshech Chochma, however, learns the pasuk literally. Without quoting all of his proofs and extrapolations, simply put the Meshech Chochma learns that Sheivet Reuven, Shimon and Levi all held places of stature in Egypt. They were also slave-owners. Jewish slave-owners. That is why Hashem commanded Moshe and Aharon to not only tell Pharaoh to release the Jews from bondage, but even to command the Jewish slave-owners to do so as well. The Meshech Chochma writes further that the reason Hashem did not allow these three Shevatim to be enslaved was not because of a positive nature (i.e. some positive distinction that played a role in their protection); on the contrary, it was due to their spiritual weakness resulting from Yaakov Avinu’s strong final words to these particular Shevatim. Had they been enslaved, they would have been lost forever.

וַיֹּאמֶר פַּרְעֹה, אֶל-יַעֲקֹב: כַּמָּה, יְמֵי שְׁנֵי חַיֶּיךָ. וַיֹּאמֶר יַעֲקֹב, אֶל-פַּרְעֹה, יְמֵי שְׁנֵי מְגוּרַי, שְׁלֹשִׁים וּמְאַת שָׁנָה: מְעַט וְרָעִים, הָיוּ יְמֵי שְׁנֵי חַיַּי, וְלֹא הִשִּׂיגוּ אֶת-יְמֵי שְׁנֵי חַיֵּי אֲבֹתַי, בִּימֵי מְגוּרֵיהֶם – And Pharaoh said to Yakov, “How many have been the days, the years of your life?” And Yakov said to Pharaoh, “The days of the years of my sojournings are one hundred thirty years. The days of the years of my life have been few and miserable, and they have not reached the days of the years of the lives of my forefathers, in the days of their journeys.” (47:8-9)

Yakov lived a tremendously difficult life. He had fled his family to live in hiding from his brother; been cheated and overworked by his father in law; been denied marriage to the love of his youth, been betrayed by his firstborn son; seen the rape of his daughter; seen his sons bickering result in Yosef’s disappearance and presumed death for 22 years; and seen Rachel die in childbirth. This was not the future he had sought to create for the Jewish people.

Mishlei 3:2 advises that תורתי אל תשכח….. כי אורך ימים ושנות חיים – my son, don’t forget the Torah… Because it lengthens days and years of life. Life is lived through peace, wholeness and Torah – pain and suffering are not true living. It therefore stands to reason that Yakov says מְעַט וְרָעִים, הָיוּ יְמֵי שְׁנֵי חַיַּי – “The days of the years of my life have been few and miserable,”.

However, the opening of Parshas Vayechi, which addresses the conclusion of Yakov’s life, states:

וַיְחִי יַעֲקֹב בְּאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם, שְׁבַע עֶשְׂרֵה שָׁנָה; וַיְהִי יְמֵי-יַעֲקֹב, שְׁנֵי חַיָּיו–שֶׁבַע שָׁנִים, וְאַרְבָּעִים וּמְאַת שָׁנָה – And Yakov lived in Egypt for seventeen years, and Yakov’s days; the years of his life; were a hundred and forty seven years. (47:28)

The Torah asserts that at this juncture, just 17 years after “few and miserable”, that וַיְחִי – Yakov truly lived, “living” being the thing he had lacked his whole life, what with all his suffering.

This marks a significant change. Before reuniting his family, he felt his life had been a failure. Now they were together, living in harmony, fulfilling Yakov’s ambitions for creating a nation, יְמֵי-יַעֲקֹב, שְׁנֵי חַיָּיו – Yakov’s days and years became years of life, to the extent that שֶׁבַע שָׁנִים, וְאַרְבָּעִים וּמְאַת שָׁנָה – he could look back, and his entire life had been worth it in the end, having achieved the harmony he sought his whole life.

The Midrash and Gemara in Shabbos say that a real exile begins in chains and handcuffs; Yakov was spared this in his exile because of his merits. The Nesivos Shalom explains how the brothers could attempt to murder Yosef and then sell him, whilst seeming incredibly evil, was actually their bodies expressing what Hashem wanted, that they eventually wind up in Egypt. The people Yosef was sold to we’re traditionally salesmen of foul scented products, but Yosef was “fortunate” that they were carrying sweet smelling spices on that day.

But it was not just “fortune”, and it was the same with Yakov

There had to be an exile to Egypt. Everything had been calculated precisely. Yakov recognised at the end of his life, that every event in his life had led him to where he was.

Having recognised that all his negative experiences brought him to where he was, he was finally content, satisfied and fulfilled.

וַיָּבֵא יוֹסֵף אֶת דִּבָּתָם רָעָה אֶל אֲבִיהֶם – And Yosef brought evil tales to their father. (37:2)

Rashi explains he brought three issues he brought to his fathers attention. The first was that Leah’s sons allegedly mistreated Bilhah and Zilpah’s sons for being “slaves”, the second was that he suspected them of illicit, adulterous relationships, and the third was that they ate limbs of live animals.

Rashi notes how Yosef suffered in each of these three areas later on in his life. Having accused his brothers of taunting and mistreating “slaves”, he was sold into slavery himself. Having accused his brothers of forbidden relationships, he was challenged by Potiphar’s wife in this area. For accusing them of eating live animals; when he was sold, they slaughtered a goat and dipped his coat into it, which they then presented to their father, implying his death. They then ate it.

R Ezra Hartman points out an issue with this. Regarding the adultery and slavery, Yosef was the subject of the challenges – they happened to him, presumably to learn that he was wrong in these areas. However, the blood his coat was dipped in did not directly involve Yosef at all. Given that these occurrences appear to be lessons, what was Yosef supposed to learn from it if it didn’t happen to him?

R Chaim Shmulevitz explains that sometimes, people cannot concede that they were wrong. It hurts too much to admit to someone else they were right all along. Yosef saw how he was wrong, and was forced to accept that what he had reported to his father was not true, and had to suffer in silence and indignity. His humiliation at seeing he was wrong was the lesson to be learnt.

וַיַּחֲלֹם יוֹסֵף חֲלוֹם, וַיַּגֵּד לְאֶחָיו; וַיּוֹסִפוּ עוֹד, שְׂנֹא אֹתוֹ. וַיֹּאמֶר, אֲלֵיהֶם: שִׁמְעוּ-נָא, הַחֲלוֹם הַזֶּה אֲשֶׁר חָלָמְתִּי. וְהִנֵּה אֲנַחְנוּ מְאַלְּמִים אֲלֻמִּים, בְּתוֹךְ הַשָּׂדֶה, וְהִנֵּה קָמָה אֲלֻמָּתִי, וְגַם-נִצָּבָה; וְהִנֵּה תְסֻבֶּינָה אֲלֻמֹּתֵיכֶם, וַתִּשְׁתַּחֲוֶיןָ לַאֲלֻמָּתִי. וַיֹּאמְרוּ לוֹ, אֶחָיו, הֲמָלֹךְ תִּמְלֹךְ עָלֵינוּ, אִם-מָשׁוֹל תִּמְשֹׁל בָּנוּ; וַיּוֹסִפוּ עוֹד שְׂנֹא אֹתוֹ, עַל-חֲלֹמֹתָיו וְעַל-דְּבָרָיו. וַיַּחֲלֹם עוֹד חֲלוֹם אַחֵר, וַיְסַפֵּר אֹתוֹ לְאֶחָיו; וַיֹּאמֶר, הִנֵּה חָלַמְתִּי חֲלוֹם עוֹד, וְהִנֵּה הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ וְהַיָּרֵחַ וְאַחַד עָשָׂר כּוֹכָבִים, מִשְׁתַּחֲוִים לִי. וַיְסַפֵּר אֶל-אָבִיו, וְאֶל-אֶחָיו, וַיִּגְעַר-בּוֹ אָבִיו, וַיֹּאמֶר לוֹ מָה הַחֲלוֹם הַזֶּה אֲשֶׁר חָלָמְתָּ: הֲבוֹא נָבוֹא, אֲנִי וְאִמְּךָ וְאַחֶיךָ, לְהִשְׁתַּחֲו‍ֹת לְךָ, אָרְצָה. וַיְקַנְאוּ-בוֹ, אֶחָיו …

And Yosef dreamt a dream, and told it to his brothers, and they continued to hate him. And he said to them, “Listen to this dream I dreamt! We were binding bundles in the field, and my bundle arose, and also stood upright, and then your bundles encircled and prostrated themselves to my bundle.” So his brothers said to him, “Will you reign over us, or will you govern us!?” And they continued to hate him for his dreams and for his words.

And he dreamed another dream, and he related it to his brothers, and he said, “I have dreamed another dream; the sun, the moon, and eleven stars were prostrating themselves to me.” And he told [it] to his father and to his brothers; and his father told him off and said to him, “What is this dream that you have dreamed? Will we come; I, your mother, and your brothers, to prostrate ourselves to you to the ground?” And his brothers envied him… (37:5-11)

The dreams were not empty visions – they were prophecies.

The Beis Halevi explains how the bundled grain dream related to the physical; Yosef’s incredible future rise to governor of Egypt, future owner of all the grain stores in the empire, and subsequently, his vast amounts of wealth. The dream about the stars and heavenly bodies correlated to spirituality – Yosef is called Yosef HaTzaddik, the righteous, the foundation of the universe.

R Ezra Hartman explains how this differentiated his brothers reactions to each dream. Wealth is external to a person; it does not define him, is not a part of him. This is related very subtly, where they did not bow to him, but to his bundle – אֲלֻמֹּתֵיכֶם, וַתִּשְׁתַּחֲוֶיןָ לַאֲלֻמָּתִי. Perhaps this is why they hated him, that they misunderstood him and though that somehow great wealth would mean he ought to rule them – אִם-מָשׁוֹל תִּמְשֹׁל בָּנוּ. The dream about the bundles engendered hatred – וַיּוֹסִפוּ עוֹד שְׂנֹא אֹתוֹ.

But with the stars, they did not bow to a representation of Yosef, but rather, כּוֹכָבִים, מִשְׁתַּחֲוִים לִי – they bowed to him, himself. This dream about the stars, hinting to his holiness and the spiritual attainments he would achieve, engendered jealousy – וַיְקַנְאוּ-בוֹ, אֶחָיו.

It seems that the dream about wealth did not engender jealousy, only hatred, perhaps as described above. The dreams about spirituality were not something to hate him for – they could use their jealousy as a motivational tool. But regarding his immense wealth, there was nothing to be jealous of – wealth doesn’t make someone better, hence their retort.

There was no such retort to the dream about spirituality. Bettering oneself is the only currency that counts, and they knew it.

וַיִּוָּתֵר יַעֲקֹב, לְבַדּוֹ; וַיֵּאָבֵק אִישׁ עִמּוֹ, עַד עֲלוֹת הַשָּׁחַר. וַיַּרְא, כִּי לֹא יָכֹל לוֹ, וַיִּגַּע, בְּכַף-יְרֵכוֹ; וַתֵּקַע כַּף-יֶרֶךְ יַעֲקֹב, בְּהֵאָבְקוֹ עִמּוֹ. וַיֹּאמֶר שַׁלְּחֵנִי, כִּי עָלָה הַשָּׁחַר; וַיֹּאמֶר לֹא אֲשַׁלֵּחֲךָ, כִּי אִם-בֵּרַכְתָּנִי. וַיֹּאמֶר אֵלָיו, מַה-שְּׁמֶךָ; וַיֹּאמֶר, יַעֲקֹב. וַיֹּאמֶר, יַעֲקֹב לא יֵאָמֵר עוֹד שִׁמְךָ–כִּי, אִם-יִשְׂרָאֵל: כִּי-שָׂרִיתָ עִם-אֱלֹהִים וְעִם-אֲנָשִׁים, וַתּוּכָל. וַיִּשְׁאַל יַעֲקֹב, וַיֹּאמֶר הַגִּידָה-נָּא שְׁמֶךָ, וַיֹּאמֶר, לָמָּה זֶּה תִּשְׁאַל לִשְׁמִי; וַיְבָרֶךְ אֹתוֹ, שָׁם. – And Yakov was left alone, and a man grappled with him until daybreak. And when he saw that he could not overcome him, he struck his hip, and dislocated his hip, as he grappled with him. And he said, “Let me go, because dawn is breaking!” – but Yakov said “I will not let you go, until you bless me”. So he said to him, “What is your name?”, and he replied, “Yakov”. And he said, “No longer shall your name be Yakov, for your name is Yisrael, because you have mastery with God and men, and you have prevailed”. And Yakov asked, and said, “Now tell me your name?”‘ and he replied, “Why is it you ask for my name?”‘ and he blessed him there. (32:25-30)

Rashi explains how the word וַיֵּאָבֵק – to wrestle/grapple, comes from the word אבק, dust, called so for the dust that is kicked up when moving and grappling for leverage. There is a Midrash that the dust kicked up from this epic struggle, reached all the way to Hashem’s throne.

R Tzvi Meir Silberberg explains how this relates to all of our struggles. People think that Judaism is about results, an end product. Not so. It was the not the victory that went up to Heaven; that remained with Yakov. But the struggle, the dust kicked up, went straight up to Hashem.

No one is born perfect. We are human, and we struggle. It is the human condition, and it’s what we are here for.

It is apt that this struggle occurs at night, which is darkness, the uncertain, the unknown. When confronted with light, which is truth and reality, the night is dispelled. This angel has to leave at sunrise, to sing in front of Hashem.

The Gemara in Suka teaches how at the end of days, Hashem will slaughter the Satan, and the righteous will cry because they will see it as a mountain, and they don’t understand how they overcame it, but the evil will cry because it will be as if it were a hair, and lament their lack of control and discipline to resist it. The Yetzer Hara is subjective.

The Steipler compares this to someone who hasn’t seen their family in a long time, and is certain that when they meet, they will all be happy, and never argue or fight again. It will never last. The imagination stage is always better that the reality, because when reality hits, the illusions disappear.

The angel had to leave when confronted with reality, and Yakov asks for his name. He asks for his name. The angel seems to refuse a real answer, “Why is it you ask for my name?”.
R’ Leib Chasman explains that this is the essence of what it is – nothing. It cannot be defined, because it’s almost a reflection of ourselves. There is no answer to what is, just what we make it into.

וַיֵּלֶךְ רְאוּבֵן בִּימֵי קְצִיר-חִטִּים, וַיִּמְצָא דוּדָאִים בַּשָּׂדֶה, וַיָּבֵא אֹתָם, אֶל-לֵאָה אִמּוֹ; וַתֹּאמֶר רָחֵל, אֶל-לֵאָה, תְּנִי-נָא לִי, מִדּוּדָאֵי בְּנֵךְ. וַתֹּאמֶר לָהּ, הַמְעַט קַחְתֵּךְ אֶת-אִישִׁי, וְלָקַחַת, גַּם אֶת-דּוּדָאֵי בְּנִי; וַתֹּאמֶר רָחֵל, לָכֵן יִשְׁכַּב עִמָּךְ הַלַּיְלָה, תַּחַת, דּוּדָאֵי בְנֵךְ. וַיָּבֹא יַעֲקֹב מִן-הַשָּׂדֶה, בָּעֶרֶב, וַתֵּצֵא לֵאָה לִקְרָאתוֹ וַתֹּאמֶר אֵלַי תָּבוֹא, כִּי שָׂכֹר שְׂכַרְתִּיךָ בְּדוּדָאֵי בְּנִי; וַיִּשְׁכַּב עִמָּהּ, בַּלַּיְלָה הוּא – Reuven went in the days of the wheat harvest, and he found flowers in the field and brought them to Leah, his mother, and Rachel said to Leah, “Please give me some of your son’s flowers.” And she said to her, “Is it not enough that you have taken my husband, that [you wish] to take my son’s flowers too?” So Rachel said, “Fine, he shall sleep with you tonight in return for your son’s flowers.” Yakov came from the field in the evening, and Leah came to meet him, and she said, “You shall come to me, because I have hired you with my son’s flowers,” and he slept with her on that night. (30:14-16)

The pasuk then discusses Leah’s children’s births, after which:

וַיִּזְכֹּר אֱלֹהִים, אֶת-רָחֵל; וַיִּשְׁמַע אֵלֶיהָ אֱלֹהִים, וַיִּפְתַּח אֶת-רַחְמָהּ – And Hashem remembered Rachel, and Hashem listened to her,and opened her womb. (30:22)

Rashi explains that what Hashem remembered was Rachel’s kindness to Leah, where the night Rachel was to be married, Yakov provided codes to know he had not been tricked, and Leah would it have know them, and would otherwise have been found out. Rachel passed on the codes, and Leah was not discovered until the next day.

But years had since passed – why does Hashem remember and repay Rachel’s kindness here?

R’ Ezra Hartman explains that in this episode, the Torah teaches us how to treat our fellow man. What was Leah thinking when she accused Rachel of taking her husband? Rachel was the sole facilitator that enabled Leah to have been a member of Yakov’s family – without the codes, Leah would have been left in the cold.

But Rachel does not say this.

R’ Ezra Hartman explains that sometimes, people like to rub in the fact that they’ve done someone a favour, that the other person owes them something. With a real favour, true kindness, the recipient is not aware that they are being done a favour. Rachel mentioned the codes in passing, for example, “Yakov likes to be told X and Y”. Leah was unaware of what Rachel had done for her, hence her question. She actually had no idea.

Rachel did not say a word about what had happened years earlier, and just talked about the flowers. It is very appropriate therefore, that at the perfect moment to silence Leah, her silence was rewarded, וַיִּזְכֹּר אֱלֹהִים, אֶת-רָחֵל – And Hashem remembered Rachel – specifically here, as the Seforno says, Hashem remembered her through the flowers.

Hashem repaid her her incredible kindness at the moment she showed she still stood by it.

וַיִּגְדַּל, הָאִישׁ; וַיֵּלֶךְ הָלוֹךְ וְגָדֵל, עַד כִּי-גָדַל מְאֹד. וַיְהִי-לוֹ מִקְנֵה-צֹאן וּמִקְנֵה בָקָר, וַעֲבֻדָּה רַבָּה; וַיְקַנְאוּ אֹתוֹ, פְּלִשְׁתִּים. וְכָל-הַבְּאֵרֹת, אֲשֶׁר חָפְרוּ עַבְדֵי אָבִיו, בִּימֵי, אַבְרָהָם אָבִיו–סִתְּמוּם פְּלִשְׁתִּים, וַיְמַלְאוּם עָפָר. וַיֹּאמֶר אֲבִימֶלֶךְ, אֶל-יִצְחָק: לֵךְ, מֵעִמָּנוּ, כִּי-עָצַמְתָּ מִמֶּנּוּ, מְאֹד. וַיֵּלֶךְ מִשָּׁם, יִצְחָק; וַיִּחַן בְּנַחַל-גְּרָר, וַיֵּשֶׁב שָׁם. וַיָּשָׁב יִצְחָק וַיַּחְפֹּר אֶת-בְּאֵרֹת הַמַּיִם, אֲשֶׁר חָפְרוּ בִּימֵי אַבְרָהָם אָבִיו, וַיְסַתְּמוּם פְּלִשְׁתִּים, אַחֲרֵי מוֹת אַבְרָהָם; וַיִּקְרָא לָהֶן, שֵׁמוֹת, כַּשֵּׁמֹת, אֲשֶׁר-קָרָא לָהֶן אָבִיו. וַיַּחְפְּרוּ עַבְדֵי-יִצְחָק, בַּנָּחַל; וַיִּמְצְאוּ-שָׁם–בְּאֵר, מַיִם חַיִּים. וַיָּרִיבוּ רֹעֵי גְרָר, עִם-רֹעֵי יִצְחָק לֵאמֹר–לָנוּ הַמָּיִם; וַיִּקְרָא שֵׁם-הַבְּאֵר עֵשֶׂק, כִּי הִתְעַשְּׂקוּ עִמּוֹ. וַיַּחְפְּרוּ בְּאֵר אַחֶרֶת, וַיָּרִיבוּ גַּם-עָלֶיהָ; וַיִּקְרָא שְׁמָהּ, שִׂטְנָה. וַיַּעְתֵּק מִשָּׁם, וַיַּחְפֹּר בְּאֵר אַחֶרֶת, וְלֹא רָבוּ, עָלֶיהָ; וַיִּקְרָא שְׁמָהּ, רְחֹבוֹת, וַיֹּאמֶר כִּי-עַתָּה הִרְחִיב יְהוָה לָנוּ, וּפָרִינוּ בָאָרֶץ. – (26:13-22)

It is curious how the Torah discusses this at length, without it being clear at all what it is we are meant to learn from here, or what significance these events bore.

R’ Ezra Hartman explains that this portion of the Torah tells us what our aspirations should be.

וַיָּשָׁב יִצְחָק וַיַּחְפֹּר אֶת-בְּאֵרֹת הַמַּיִם, אֲשֶׁר חָפְרוּ בִּימֵי אַבְרָהָם אָבִיו, וַיְסַתְּמוּם פְּלִשְׁתִּים, אַחֲרֵי מוֹת אַבְרָהָם; וַיִּקְרָא לָהֶן, שֵׁמוֹת, כַּשֵּׁמֹת, אֲשֶׁר-קָרָא לָהֶן אָבִיו – and Yitzchak returned, and dug the wells that had been dug in the days of his father Avraham, that the Phillistines had filled, after his father Avraham’s death. He called them the names his father had called them.

The Torah tells us that if our fathers are worth emulating, we absolutely should. We should have an eye on family heritage and tradition – Yitzchak pursued and reclaimed his fathers assets, and called them the name his father did. But we should not aspire to be someone else – we should aim higher, to exceed where our ancestors reached.

The Ramban and Kli Yakar discuss the details of the three wells that Yitzchak had excavated. The Ramban discusses how the three wells are veiled references to the three Temples, the Batei Mikdash.

וַיָּרִיבוּ רֹעֵי גְרָר, עִם-רֹעֵי יִצְחָק לֵאמֹר–לָנוּ הַמָּיִם; וַיִּקְרָא שֵׁם-הַבְּאֵר עֵשֶׂק, כִּי הִתְעַשְּׂקוּ עִמּוֹ – And the shepherds of Gerar quarreled with Yitzchak’s shepherds, saying, “The water is ours”; so he named the well Esek, because they had contended with him.

This is the first Beis HaMikdash. There is a strong parallel, in that the Torah emphasises two factions, that argued. The era of the first Beis HaMikdash was defined by two factions, the Malchei Yisrael against the Malchei Yehuda – the kingdom of Israel against Judea, arguing over who deserved to be king.

וַיַּחְפְּרוּ בְּאֵר אַחֶרֶת, וַיָּרִיבוּ גַּם-עָלֶיהָ; וַיִּקְרָא שְׁמָהּ, שִׂטְנָה – And they dug another well, and they fought about it too; so he named it Sitnah.

This is the second, which was defined by hatred between everyone. This is worse than the first. The Torah emphasises how the first was fought by the shepherds, which is a metaphor for the leaders, which is who fought for the first Temple. This time around, “they” just fought. No one in particular, a heavy hint to baseless hatred. Further, they failed to listen to the lesson of the first – וַיָּרִיבוּ גַּם-עָלֶיהָ – they fought about this one too.

The third however had no such strife – וַיַּעְתֵּק מִשָּׁם, וַיַּחְפֹּר בְּאֵר אַחֶרֶת, וְלֹא רָבוּ, עָלֶיהָ; וַיִּקְרָא שְׁמָהּ, רְחֹבוֹת, וַיֹּאמֶר כִּי-עַתָּה הִרְחִיב יְהוָה לָנוּ, וּפָרִינוּ בָאָרֶץ – And he moved away from there, and he dug another well, and they did not quarrel over it; so he named it Rechovos, and he said, “For now the Lord has made room for us, and we will be fruitful in the land.”

The third is defined by peace. The word for peace is שלום, from the root שלם, whole. With peace, there is wholeness, harmony and space, and there is expansion.

The Ran explains that there is much more to it, and points out a major subtlety, that adds a whole new dimension into what was required of Avraham. Hashem says: קַח-נָא אֶת-בִּנְךָ אֶת-יְחִידְךָ אֲשֶׁר-אָהַבְתָּ, אֶת-יִצְחָק, וְלֶךְ-לְךָ, אֶל-אֶרֶץ הַמֹּרִיָּה; וְהַעֲלֵהוּ שָׁם, לְעֹלָה – Please take your son, your only son, whom you love, Yitzchak, and go, for yourself, to the land of Moriah, and sacrifice him,max a burnt offering. (22:2).

The Ran point out that Hashem said קַח-נָא – “please take”. This was a request. It was not a command, it was not an instruction; sacrificing his son was something Hashem desired, but did not demand. It is quite possible that if Avraham had refused, he would not have violated Hashem word, as Hashem had not issued an instruction.

This enhances our view of the difficulty this task posed. Hashem did not require it, and Avraham did not “need” to go through with it. It would just please Hashem were he to go through with it, it ideas his choice. He was not compelled to do it at all.

The Slonimer Rebbe adds a further subtle reference to the turmoil he faced. The pasuk says
that as Avraham approached the place, וַיִּשָּׂא אַבְרָהָם אֶת-עֵינָיו וַיַּרְא אֶת-הַמָּקוֹם–מֵרָחֹק – Avraham lifted his eyes, and saw הַמָּקוֹם from a distance. (22:4)

Classically, this means that he literally “saw the place”. But הַמָּקוֹם is also a name of Hashem – He is “The Place”, He is everywhere, the Omnipresent.

In this context, וַיִּשָּׂא אַבְרָהָם אֶת-עֵינָיו וַיַּרְא אֶת-הַמָּקוֹם–מֵרָחֹק means that Avraham looked around, and felt a distance between himself and Hashem. Avraham was doing what he felt he ought to do, when he knew that what he was doing did not feel right. It tore him apart – he’d spent his whole life fighting idol worship and sacrifice, and yet here he was, about to sacrifice his son, throwing away his entire future, and Hashem had not even demanded it. וַיַּרְא אֶת-הַמָּקוֹם–מֵרָחֹק – Avraham looked around, and felt a distance between himself and Hashem.

We read this on Rosh Hashana, and perhaps, apart from the obvious merit this story brings, perhaps we can also relate to this on a personal level. Things aren’t always clear cut what we have to do, what’s right. We don’t always “feel it”, but sometimes, we have to persevere with what we have to do, and we will come out better for having done so.

ויאמר ד׳ אל אברם לך לך מארצך וממולדתך ומבית אביך אל הארץ אשר אראך – And Hashem said to Avraham, “Go for yourself, from your land, your homeland, and the house of your father, to the land which I will show you”.

This pasuk is loaded with inferences. Rashi points out that Hashem was telling Avraham that this journey would be לך – for his own benefit and growth, which seems difficult to understand. Did Avraham need a personal gain to do what Hashem had instructed?

Further, the pasuk uses an expression of leaving from, rather than exiting to, which seems odd, if the actual goal was to arrive at the land Hashem would show him.

Lastly, the requirement to go “from your land, your birthplace, and the house of your father, to the land which I will show you”, seems redundant – the goal is אל הארץ אשר אראך, the land he would be shown. Why include where he was leaving from at all?

Avraham is commanded to go first from his country, then his homeland, and lastly, his father’s house. Shouldn’t the sequence be reversed? When travelling internationally, you leave the house first, then the area and then the country. So why is the command in this order?

The Nesivos Shalom explains that Hashem was telling Avraham to leave his negative traits which he acquired in these locations. Our environment is instrumental to developing who we are as people. The more localised the environment, the greater the affect it can have.

As such, a home environment is more persuasive than a homeland, which in turn is more influential than a country. The command is brought to greater light; Hashem was telling Avraham to leave, abandon even, the negative influence he picked up from his country, homeland and father’s house. The order is listing in ascending difficulty.

This further bring to light that לך לך means “Go fro yourself”. Avaham understood that ultimate happiness is becoming close to Hashem, echoing the Mesilas Yesharim, that the supreme joy in this world is the joy of serving Hashem; acknowledging one’s purpose in life and fulfilling it. Hashem told him that in order to grow further, he needed to totally separate himself from the negative culture he’d lived his whole life in – מארצך וממולדתך ומבית אביך.

It’s not enough for a person to try to be the best they can be, where they are. To reach full potential, he also has to remove himself from the bad midos of his environment because they still have an affect on him.

Once Avraham abandoned his past, he could achieve אל הארץ אשר אראך.

This further answers why the command was to “go” from somewhere, not just to somewhere. He had to leave where he was to get where he was going.

At the beginning of the parsha of milah, the pasuk says:

וַיֵּרָא יְהוָה אֶל-אַבְרָם, וַיֹּאמֶר אֵלָיו אֲנִי-אֵל שַׁדַּי–הִתְהַלֵּךְ לְפָנַי, וֶהְיֵה תָמִים – And Hashem appeared to Avraham, and said to him; “I am The Omnipotent, be before me, and be perfect”. (17:1)

The Beis HaLevi explains that people who deny fundamental precepts of Judaism, or even Hashem, can sarcastically ask that “if God can do everything, why do we have to do anything? Let Him have made the world perfect!”. They feel that the existence of imperfection disproves God. In the context of milah, the question is the same, that “if God wanted you circumcised, why didn’t He make you that way?”.

The Beis HaLevi points out that the name Hashem appears to Avraham with is אֵל שַׁדַּי. Chazal teach that this means the Omnipotent, that Hashem could have kept creating and building from Creation, but said דַּי – “enough”. Had Hashem not chosen to stop, creation would manifest itself perfectly, where all living things would give birth to adult offspring, food would not need processing or cooking, etc.

But Hashem said “enough”. Creation is not meant for us to enjoy in perfection, as the Torah tells us at the onset of Shabbos, the transition from Creation to existence, כִּי בוֹ שָׁבַת מִכָּל-מְלַאכְתּוֹ, אֲשֶׁר-בָּרָא אֱלֹהִים לַעֲשׂוֹת – for on that day did Hashem refrain from all His work, which He made to be done. (2:3). The point of existence is לַעֲשׂוֹת – to be done by man. Our instruction of וֶהְיֵה תָמִים, to be perfect, is our own responsibility.

Circumcision, and everything else in life, do not come naturally. They require input of effort and hard work, but it is the end goal of being here – to be perfect.

The Malbim observes that the pasuk writes:

צֵא, מִן-הַתֵּבָה–אַתָּה… כָּל-הַחַיָּה אֲשֶׁר-אִתְּךָ מִכָּל-בָּשָׂר, בָּעוֹף וּבַבְּהֵמָה וּבְכָל-הָרֶמֶשׂ הָרֹמֵשׂ עַל-הָאָרֶץ–הוצא (הַיְצֵא) אִתָּךְ; וְשָׁרְצוּ בָאָרֶץ, וּפָרוּ וְרָבוּ עַל-הָאָרֶץ – Leave the Ark – you… Every living creature with you. Every creature, bird, animal and insect that creeps on the earth, should leave with you, and they will multiply and infest the earth. (8:16-17)

Malbim explains that the salvation of life on earth was through Noach, and the psukim say as much, by emphasising כָּל-הַחַיָּה אֲשֶׁר-אִתְּךָ – he was the instrument through which they were saved, because they were “with him”.

The Malbim explains the undercurrent in the sequence of events that led to the Mabul, and what it repaired. When Adam was created, he had the potential of all Creation within him. Every possible characteristic, including the animals, was included in his makeup. The way he behaved, nature reacted, and we see this somewhat today, watered down, in how pets reflect characteristics of their owners.

The generation of the Flood squandered and destroyed their potential to be good, and had no good characteristics. Nature reacted accordingly, and animals became evil too, with all species mingling with others, to a point where the Torah (6:12) writes כִּי-הִשְׁחִית כָּל-בָּשָׂר אֶת-דַּרְכּוֹ, עַל-הָאָרֶץ – that every living creature had lost its way.

Noach reclaimed decency, and “humanity” – in the true sense of the word, by being honest and good. He reclaimed the potential to be good. He was the sole being that had not corrupted itself, and as such existence was perpetuated solely for his sake. This is why he was chosen of all men – existence owed itself to him.

צֵא, מִן-הַתֵּבָה–אַתָּה… כָּל-הַחַיָּה אֲשֶׁר-אִתְּךָ מִכָּל-בָּשָׂר, בָּעוֹף וּבַבְּהֵמָה וּבְכָל-הָרֶמֶשׂ הָרֹמֵשׂ עַל-הָאָרֶץ–הוצא (הַיְצֵא) אִתָּךְ; וְשָׁרְצוּ בָאָרֶץ, וּפָרוּ וְרָבוּ עַל-הָאָרֶץ – Leave the Ark – you… Every living creature with you. Every creature, bird, animal and insect that creeps on the earth, should leave with you, and they will multiply and infest the earth. (8:16-17)

Perhaps we can suggest that since humanity restarted from him, humanity inherited this debt that nature owed, and in the beginning of the next chapter, God permits man to eat meat for the very first time.

ה אֱלֹהֶיךָ הוּא עֹבֵר לְפָנֶיךָ, הוּא-יַשְׁמִיד אֶת-הַגּוֹיִם הָאֵלֶּה – Hashem, your G-d; He will cross you over, He will destroy the nations before you. (31:3)

The emphasis on הוּא, that “He” will do it, seems strange, and the fact it is said twice is even stranger.

The Ohr HaChaim explains that the Jews were worried that on losing Moshe, they would further lose two abilities he had; first, that he could and would intercede on their behalf, such as with the Golden Calf, where his intercession ended the plague and prevented their destruction; and second, that he would not be leading them in the wars they would inevitably fight on entry into the Land of Israel.

Moshe addressed the first concern by telling them that הוּא עֹבֵר לְפָנֶיךָ – the same word is used to describe Hashem’s capacity to forgive – עובר על פשע. Moshe explained that in reality, it had been Hashem all along, that He had aroused the idea of praying for the Jews in Moshe, and that capacity to be forgiven would remain, since Moshe had been an instrument for Hashem’s forgiveness, and not the cause.

Regarding the second, Moshe expressed the same idea – it had never been him – הוּא-יַשְׁמִיד אֶת-הַגּוֹיִם הָאֵלֶּה – Hashem had been with them all the time, and would remain so.

The Seforno explains the whole speech as conveying this message – that they had Hashem watching over them, and it would be better for them to experience Hashem directly than via himself as a conduit.

Sometimes people are averse to recognising their own abilities, and they don’t feel capable of rising to a challenge without their teachers. Moshe was telling the Jews that after 40 years of preparing, they were finally ready to become what they left Egypt to be. We too need to recognise that eventually, the training wheels have to come off.

וַיִּקְרָא מֹשֶׁה אֶל-כָּל-יִשְׂרָאֵל, וַיֹּאמֶר אֲלֵהֶם: אַתֶּם רְאִיתֶם, אֵת כָּל-אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה יְהוָה לְעֵינֵיכֶם בְּאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם, לְפַרְעֹה וּלְכָל-עֲבָדָיו, וּלְכָל-אַרְצוֹ. הַמַּסּוֹת, הַגְּדֹלֹת, אֲשֶׁר רָאוּ, עֵינֶיךָ–הָאֹתֹת וְהַמֹּפְתִים הַגְּדֹלִים, הָהֵם. וְלֹא-נָתַן יְהוָה לָכֶם לֵב לָדַעַת, וְעֵינַיִם לִרְאוֹת וְאָזְנַיִם לִשְׁמֹעַ, עַד, הַיּוֹם הַזֶּה – And Moshe called all the Jews, and said to them: “You saw all that Hashem did in Egypt, with your own eyes, to Paroh, his servants, and his land. The great miracles and signs you saw. And Hashem didn’t give you a heart to understand, eyes to see, nor ears to hear, until this day. (29:1-3)

Rashi elaborates that עַד הַיּוֹם הַזֶּה has an undercurrent. In Devarim 31, Moshe writes the Torah in the form we have it, and give it to the Levi’im, who entrusted with the task of safeguarding and teaching Torah. Rashi says that עַד הַיּוֹם הַזֶּה refers to that event. What was the appraisal of their faculties, that on “this day”, Moshe praised the Jews?

Rash explains how when Moshe gave the Torah to the Levi’im, the Jews protested their being singled out for keeping it, with the worry that perhaps Levi would claim the Torah for their own, and exclude the other tribes. When Moshe saw this, he saw the the Torah was precious to them, and said עַד הַיּוֹם הַזֶּה.

R’ Leib Salomon has great difficulty with this. What was the protest going to be, exactly? It couldnt be that they were worried that perhaps the Levi’im would keep the whole Torah for themselves, how could they? Who would give ma’aser, among many other things?

R’ Matisyahu Salomon explains that the Jews were not worried about the Levi’im laying an exclusive claim to mitzvah performance, but rather, the capacity to be a Torah scholar, talmud Torah. When Moshe heard this, he understood how much the Torah meant to them.

R’ Matisyahu points out that “The great miracles and signs you saw” were not enough to persuade Moshe that they had לֵב לָדַעַת, וְעֵינַיִם לִרְאוֹת וְאָזְנַיִם לִשְׁמֹעַ – it was exclusively their desire and passion for Talmud Torah that precipitated this realisation.

Seeing miracles isn’t what makes someone a true servant of Hashem, it is the struggle, the slog, that comes with learning Torah that a Jew has his heart, eyes and ears.

The pasuk tells us that:

אֵלֶּה יַעַמְדוּ לְבָרֵךְ אֶת-הָעָם, עַל-הַר גְּרִזִים, בְּעָבְרְכֶם, אֶת-הַיַּרְדֵּן: שִׁמְעוֹן וְלֵוִי וִיהוּדָה, וְיִשָּׂשכָר וְיוֹסֵף וּבִנְיָמִן. וְאֵלֶּה יַעַמְדוּ עַל-הַקְּלָלָה, בְּהַר עֵיבָל: רְאוּבֵן גָּד וְאָשֵׁר, וּזְבוּלֻן דָּן וְנַפְתָּלִי – These tribes will ascend to bless the people, from Har Grizim, (…), and these are the tribes that will ascend for the curse, on Har Eival (…). (27:12-13)

From the above translation, it is evident that the construct of the commands is subtly different, wherein the people on Har Grizim were actually going to bless everyone, whereas the people on Har Eival were going to be passive, to be there “for the curse”.

Why the disparity?

The Kli Yakar explains that curses only come due to an individuals actions, that cause Hashem to distance himself from a person. The people went up the mountain weren’t going up to affirm that Hashem would curse, as an action, but rather, to affirm that without Hashem’s blessings, that is a curse. But these curses are not fixed.

In Moshe’s opening to the people at the mountains, he says:

הַיּוֹם הַזֶּה, ה אֱלֹהֶיךָ מְצַוְּךָ לַעֲשׂוֹת אֶת-הַחֻקִּים הָאֵלֶּה–וְאֶת-הַמִּשְׁפָּטִים; וְשָׁמַרְתָּ וְעָשִׂיתָ אוֹתָם, בְּכָל-לְבָבְךָ וּבְכָל-נַפְשֶׁךָ – On this day, Hashem your God has commanded you to keep these statutes and laws, and you will guard them and perform them, with all your heart and soul. (26:16)

This pasuk is monumental in its context, but equally to all of us today. Rashi points out that this is written in the present tense, that we have the same obligations every day as when we accepted the Torah and mitzvos.

In the past, we may not have been all we could have been. But we can always draw a line, and start afresh, and say הַיּוֹם הַזֶּה, today is a new day. There is always an opportunity to do become a better person and do Teshuva, most apt as we approach Rosh Hashanah.

יח. כִּי יִהְיֶה לְאִישׁ בֵּן סוֹרֵר וּמוֹרֶה אֵינֶנּוּ שֹׁמֵעַ בְּקוֹל אָבִיו וּבְקוֹל אִמּוֹ וְיִסְּרוּ אֹתוֹ וְלֹא יִשְׁמַע אֲלֵיהֶם יט. וְתָפְשׂוּ בוֹ אָבִיו וְאִמּוֹ וְהוֹצִיאוּ אֹתוֹ אֶל זִקְנֵי עִירוֹ וְאֶל שַׁעַר מְקֹמוֹ כ. וְאָמְרוּ אֶל זִקְנֵי עִירוֹ בְּנֵנוּ זֶה סוֹרֵר וּמֹרֶה אֵינֶנּוּ שֹׁמֵעַ בְּקֹלֵנוּ זוֹלֵל וְסֹבֵא כא. וּרְגָמֻהוּ כָּל אַנְשֵׁי עִירוֹ בָאֲבָנִים וָמֵת וּבִעַרְתָּ הָרָע מִקִּרְבֶּךָ וְכָל יִשְׂרָאֵל יִשְׁמְעוּ וְיִרָאוּ

18. If a man has a wayward and rebellious son, who does not obey his father or his mother, and they chasten him, and [he still] does not listen to them. 19. his father and his mother shall take hold of him and bring him out to the elders of his city, and to the gate of his place. 20. And they shall say to the elders of his city, “This son of ours is wayward and rebellious; he does not obey us; [he is] a glutton and a guzzler.” 21. And all the men of his city shall pelt him to death with stones, and he shall die. So shall you clear out the evil from among you, and all Israel will listen and fear.

The Gemara in Sanhedrin 71a states that a Ben Sorer Umoreh never happened, and never will. Why is it in the Torah then? So that we will analyse it and be rewarded.

The underlying reason that a Ben Sorer Umoreh would ostensibly have a death sentence is that it is better for him to die innocent, than guilty of murder later in life. But the Torah sets an impossible condition – the parents have to be united in every regard that their son be sentenced to death -no parent would out themselves through this. Furthermore, the age at which Ben Sorer Umoreh applies is limited to the three months after his 13th birthday, he needs to have stolen a certain amount of meat, itself cooked a particular way, he needs to have drunk a certain amount of wine, all on his fathers property.

R’ Moshe Mordechai Epstein has great difficulty with the restrictions to the application of Ben Sorer Umoreh. Furthermore, the reward the Gemara discusses cannot be that we will study more Torah – that is not a reason to be in the Torah, in addition to which, even if it were left out, in a thousand years a person could not hope to complete the entire Torah – the Torah was not short on material that it needed “filler”. This compels him to conclude that the mitzvah of Ben Sorer Umoreh has a more subtle reward than the ability to just have more Torah to study.

By studying this episode, one discovers the Torah’s approach to parenting, to raise them correctly, and if they stray, how to correct them.

When a child is overindulged, it is detrimental to him and society. The Ben Sorer Umoreh is someone who is out of control from the outset of adolescence, and the Torah tells us to learn from it. This is what the pasuk means when it says ובערת הרע בקרבך, וכל ישראל ישמעו ויראו -destroy the evil in your midst, and all of Yisrael will see and fear. The Torah wants us to be balanced individuals, and not wild, carefree and selfish, and tasks us with preventing evil in our children, before it is too late. We should learn from the Ben Sorer Umoreh as the paradigm of what not to do – וכל ישראל ישמעו.

If I may, I would like to suggest that the Gemara itself hinted at this. The Gemara said that the function of Ben Sorer Umoreh was דרוש וקבל שכר – analyse it and receive reward. The Gemara did not say למוד, to study it, but דרוש, analyse it. This is itself וכל ישראל ישמעו, that we learn from the Ben Sorer Umoreh to raise balanced children.

עשר תעשר – you shall tithe (14:22)

Gemara in Taanis 9a derives from this pasuk that עשר בשביל שתתעשר – one who gives ma’aser, the tithes, will become wealthier. This applies to all other forms of tzedaka, charity, too.

The Vilna Gaon explains that this highly unusual affirmation from the Gemara is due to a difficulty. The standard explanation of a double statement is that it means “to surely” do it, an unlimited amount of times. The difficulty is that the Gemara in Kesubos 50a states that a person is not allowed to give away more than 20% of his income. This would seem to indicate a flaw that a double statement cannot mean to do something with no limit, as it does not apply here – a person is not allowed to give an unlimited amount of money away.

The Vilna Gaon therefore teaches us that this still applies, even to giving charity, wherein a person will have more than he did prior to giving tzedaka, that he will be able to keep giving more, and never give an amount that he wasn’t allowed to. The reward for giving charity is the ability to give more, and it won’t hinder the giver, because we learn that עשר בשביל שתתעשר – a person will be able to keep giving charity.

 וְלֹא תַחֲנִיפוּ אֶת הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר אַתֶּם בָּהּ כִּי הַדָּם הוּא יַחֲנִיף אֶת הָאָרֶץ וְלָאָרֶץ לֹא יְכֻפַּר לַדָּם אֲשֶׁר שֻׁפַּךְ בָּהּ כִּי אִם בְּדַם שֹׁפְכוֹ – And you shall not deceive the land in which you live, for the blood corrupts the land, and the blood which is shed in the land cannot be atoned for except through the blood of the one who shed it. (35:34)

The word חניפה means flattery/deception/corruption/obfuscation. The expression seems highly odd in the context of the land.

R’ Moshe Feinstein draws a major distinction between the conventional wisdom of the world, and Jewish law. The world worries about peace and rights – if someone disturbs peace or rights, since the goal is peace, the person destroying it is therefore a target, as they are destroying the world as they see it. Countless wars are fought, with countless dead, because one nation has a claim to repairing and saving the world, or some other ideal.

For Jews, the Torah tells us “Do not murder.” – regardless of who – one may not kill another human being. Even someone who destroys the world is still taken care of by this.

What results from this is that someone who murders or wages war to ostensibly “save the world”, is יַחֲנִיף אֶת הָאָרֶץ – wherein the land takes precedence over a man. He is being murdered for the sake of preservation of the land, for peace!

The Torah tells us that the land is always secondary to the person – all land is worthless if the people on it aren’t upstanding individuals. חניפה is the disconnect between reality and an ideal – we must always know that we have to be real with ourselves, always trying to improve. This is what the pasuk means when it says וְלֹא תַחֲנִיפוּ אֶת הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר אַתֶּם בָּהּ.

The Steipler Gaon explains that the purpose of the murderer fleeing to the עיר מקלט is two-fold – it saves and punishes at the same time. It saves the murderer from being murdered by the person who has set out to avenge his family member, but even in a situation where for some reason the avenger would definitely not kill him, he must still go to the עיר מקלט anyway. He needs to stay there until he dies, and is buried in the עיר מקלט – the avenger can’t kill him one he’s dead, but he still has this punishment there.

The city he runs to is meant to rehabilitate him – he runs to a city of the Levi’im – the teachers of Bnei Yisrael. The reason there needs to be an avenger appointed by the Beis Din is that we must always be responsible and accountable for our actions – this man cannot get away with it, and the Torah teaches us that he cannot bribe his way out – he stays until the end. There must always be justice in the world.

Hashem runs the world on mercy and strict judgment – with the two there is Creation, and there is justice in the world.

לָמָּה יִגָּרַע שֵׁם אָבִינוּ מִתּוֹךְ מִשְׁפַּחְתּוֹ כִּי אֵין לוֹ בֵּן תְּנָה לָּנוּ אֲחֻזָּה בְּתוֹךְ אֲחֵי אָבִינוּ – Why should our father’s name be eliminated from his family because he had no son? Give us a portion along with our father’s brothers. (27:4)

Rashi explains that this was not an emotional request, rather, a halachic one. אנו במקום בן עומדות, ואם אין הנקבות חשובות זרע, תתיבם אמנו ליבם – We stand in the place a son ought to be, if we do not inherit our father, then let our mother perform yibum – levirate marriage.

A woman does not perform yibum if she has children from her deceased husband – as the children carry on the name of their father. The daughters of Tzlafchad made the association between yibum and inheritance – if they were זרע, progeny enough for yibum, then they ought to inherit, and if they weren’t to inherit, then their mother ought to perform yibum.

Rashi further points out that הא אם היה לו בן לא היו תובעות כלום. מגיד שחכמניות היו – If there had been a brother, they would not have made a claim (and left the inheritance to him). This displayed their intelligence. 

What exactly is the intelligence they displayed?

R’ Yehoshua Hartman explains that they demonstrated their understanding of the function of inheritance. The conventional wisdom is that when the owner dies, his assets are passed on. It is a default process – assets cannot lie unclaimed.

The genuine, Torah, understanding of inheritance is that whatever Hashem blesses someone with becomes a part of who they are. A person’s name takes root in his house – that’s what ownership really is. That is not to say that this goes to the extent of society today where people are defined by how much money they have at the bank. But property does have a certain relationship with the owner, a sort of extension.

When the person dies, the re-allocation of his assets is only to perpetuate the name of the deceased, which his property bears the name of. The people who are the continuation of his legacy will, inherit, which is why children usually inherit, as they are the continuation of their father’s legacy.

The daughters said if we weren’t continuations of their father’s lineage regarding inheritance, then they ought not to be for yibum. They understood what the function of both is to continue the lineage of their father.

The association was so correct, that Hashem told Moshe that they were right, teaching a previously unknown halacha.