An Eloquent Silence

Parshas Beshalach

Posted on February 3, 2023 (5783) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

If ever there was anyone caught between a rock and a hard place it was the Jewish people on the shores of the Sea of Reeds. With their backs to the churning waters, they watched in wide-eyed horror as thousands of Egyptian chariots thundered towards them, murderous steel blades flashing in the sun. Desperately, the people plunged into the depths of the sea, and wonder of wonders, Hashem parted the waters and led them through to safety.

 

At this transcendent moment, their hearts filled with joy and gratitude, they burst into a thrilling song of praise which the Torah records verbatim. In one of the most passionate lines, they cry out, “Who is like You among the lords, O Hashem?” The Sages perceive a deeper dimension in this declaration. The Torah uses the Hebrew word eilim for lords, and the Sages detect in this an allusion to the Hebrew word ilmim, silent ones. Accordingly, the Jewish people were also saying, “Who is like You among the silent ones, O Hashem?” This, the Sages explain, was a prophetic reference to the destruction of the Second Temple and the devastation of Jerusalem by the evil Roman general Titus, who desecrated the sanctuary and spilled rivers of innocent Jewish blood while Hashem remained silent.

 

The question immediately arises: Why choose the occasion of the splitting of the sea to mention Hashem’s silence during the holocaust that destroyed Jerusalem?

 

We all know that when we go through periods of anguish we are inclined to feel alienation and anger towards Hashem – even if we ordinarily strive for high levels of faith and observance.

 

Enough is enough, we scream silently. How can You let us suffer so much pain? And this feeling of abandonment, irrational as it is, just makes the suffering that much worse. Wouldn’t our suffering be more bearable if we could see Hashem watching over us throughout our ordeal, if we realized that, even in His silence, Hashem does not abandon a single person to random fate.

 

At the Sea of Reeds, this realization struck the Jewish people with great clarity. For so many years they had suffered the cruel agony of Egyptian shackles, their backs bent in backbreaking labor, their hearts and spirits shriveled inside their tortured bodies. It seemed as if the Creator had forgotten them. But now, in the most stunning miraculous display, He had split the sea to lead them to safety. Suddenly, they realized He had been watching over them all along, that His love for them stretched back hundreds of years to the Patriarchs. The pain and suffering had been an indispensable feature of the “iron crucible” of Egypt in which the Jewish people were molded and formed. From the perspective of hindsight, their suffering was not random, and the silence was very eloquent indeed.

As this important revelation sunk into the Jewish consciousness beside the sea, they realized how important it was to remember it for all future trials and travails. There would undoubtedly be other times of divine silence in the face of Jewish suffering and misfortune. But if the Jewish people would have the wisdom to perceive the benevolent presence of the silent Creator they would be able to accept their lot with courage and hope, and their suffering would be mitigated. Even during times of such profound darkness as the destruction of Jerusalem by the evil Titus, they would not fall victim to despair.

 

A young boy was wheeled into the operating room for a serious procedure. He was frightened but all alone. He yearned for the comforting hand of his father, but his father had been barred from the sterile operating room.

 

I want my father, the boy thought desperately. I want him here. But his father did not come, and the boy was terribly upset and resentful. How could his father abandon him at this time, the most trying of his entire life?

 

The operation was successful, and the boy was returned to his room. There stood his father, tears streaming down his face. He hugged and kissed his son with a greater outpouring of love than ever before. “My son, my precious son,” he said. “How sad that you had to be in that operating room all by yourself, but I was in constant touch with the doctors. You did not leave my thoughts, not even for a moment.”

 

In our own lives, all of us go through difficult periods at one time or another. Grief and suffering are part of the very fabric of life. But the way we deal with them is up to us. If we recognize that our warm and loving Father in Heaven pays meticulous attention to every minute detail of our lives, that He is with us constantly even in our darkest moments, we can find peace and serenity that are not vulnerable to the vicissitudes of life.

 

Text Copyright © 2009 by Rabbi Naftali Reich and Torah.org.

Rabbi Reich is on the faculty of the Ohr Somayach Tanenbaum Education Center.

 

 

Input…Output

Parshas Beshalach

Posted on February 3, 2023 (5783) By Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky | Series: Drasha | Level: Beginner

The sea had split. The enemy was drowned. And now the problems began.

 

The newly liberated nation was stranded in a scorching desert facing an unending landscape of uncertainties. Taskmasters no longer responded to their cries — Hashem did. He responded with protection and shelter on every level. But the Jews were still not satisfied. They were hungry. “If only we had died.. in the land of Egypt. Why did you liberate us to die in the desert? ” they cried to Moshe. (Exodus 16:3 )

 

Hashem responds with a most miraculous and equally mysterious celestial gift. Food fell from the heavens, but the people accepted it with piqued curiosity. Indeed, the dew-covered matter satiated their hunger, but they were not sure what exactly it was. “Each man said to his friend, manna ! For they did not know what it was.” (Exodus 16:14) The commentaries explain that the word manna is a Hebrew-Egyptian form of the word “what.”

 

At first, the Torah only discusses the physical attributes of the manna : “it was like a thin frost on the earth.” The Torah continues to tell us that on Shabbos the manna did not fall. A double portion fell on Friday — the extra portion was allotted for Shabbos. In referring to the manna of Shabbos the Torah tells us, “the children of Israel named it manna , and it tasted like a cake fried in honey.” Later, however, the Torah describes the manna ‘s taste differently: “it tasted like dough kneaded with oil.” (Numbers 11:8) Why does the Torah wait to describe the manna ‘s taste until Shabbos? Also, when did it taste sweet and when did it only taste like oily dough?

 

Another question is before Shabbos people asked, “what is it?” On Shabbos they named the miraculous food — “It is ‘what'” (manna ). Why did the Jews wait until Shabbos to describe concretely the miraculous edible with an official title manna — the ‘what’ food?

 

In the town of Lomza there was a group of woodcutters hired by the townsfolk to cut down trees for firewood. The strong laborers swung their axes and hit the trees all while shouting a great cry HAH with each blow. The timing had to be flawless. If the cry HAH came a split second early or, a second after the blade hit the tree, it would be a worthless shout that would not aid the lumberjacks at all.

 

Each year, Zelig the meshugener (crazy), a once-successful businessman who had lost his mind together with the loss of a young daughter, accompanied the woodcutters on their quest. He stood in the background and precisely as the ax hit the tree he, too, shouted on the top of his lungs HAH!

 

When it was time to get paid, the deranged Zelig also stood in line. “I deserve some silver coins!” he exclaimed. “After all without the chopping would not be as effective!”

 

The case was brought before the Chief Rabbi of Lomza who looked at the five lumberjacks and then at the meshugener. “Listen carefully, Zelig,” said the Rabbi. He then took 10 silver pieces in his hand and jingled them loudly. They made a loud clanging noise. Then he gave each woodsman two silver pieces. He turned to Zelig and smiled. “The men who gave the labor get the coins, and, Zelig, you who gave the sound, get the sound of the coins!”

 

Hashem in His infinite wisdom began our lessons in living through our daily fare. The Talmud states that the taste of the manna was integrally linked with the taster’s thoughts. If one thought of steak the manna tasted like steak: if one thought of borscht, the manna tasted like borscht. In fact, the Chofetz Chaim was once asked, “what happens if you think nothing?” He answered very profoundly: “If one thinks of nothing, then one tastes nothing!”

 

During the week the Jews had the manna but did not realize its great potential. The Malbim explains that is why it only tasted like oily dough. But on Shabbos, a day filled with sweet relaxation, heavenly thoughts filled the minds of the nation. And those sweet thoughts produced sweet tastes!

 

The Talmud also says that to small children the manna tasted like dough, but to scholars it tasted like honey. For if one thinks of honey, he tastes honey. When one thinks blandly, he has bland taste.

 

Perhaps on Shabbos the Jewish People realized the important lesson of life. The questions we face should not be addressed as eternally mysterious. We can not face the unknown with the question, “what is it?” Rather, we can define our destiny and challenge our uncertainties. “It is what!” What you put into it is exactly what you take out! Life presents us many opportunities. We can approach those moments with lofty thoughts and see, smell, and taste its sweetness. Or we can see nothing and taste nothing. We can chop hard and reap the benefits, or we can kvetch and enjoy only the echoes of our emptiness.

 

Our Capable Partner

Parshas Beshalach

Posted on February 3, 2023 (5783) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah | Level: Beginner

They gathered it morning by morning, each one according to his eating capacity, and [when] the sun grew hot, it melted. It came to pass on the sixth day that they gathered a double portion of bread, two Omers for [each] one, and all the princes of the community came and reported [it] to Moshe. So, he said to them, “That is what HASHEM spoke, Tomorrow is a rest day, a holy Shabbos to HASHEM. Bake whatever you wish to bake, and cook whatever you wish to cook, and all the rest leave over to keep until morning” (Shemos 16:21-24)

 

The reception of MANN as a daily diet was not just a practical, albeit miraculous solution to sustaining a nation in the desert until they were ready to enter the land. It was part of an important training program. The Talmud tells us, “Ain HaTorah Nitna Ella L’Ochlei MANN” – “The Torah is only given to eaters of MANN”. What does that mean?

 

Was it just the purifying quality of this heavenly bread that prepared their bodies to receive the Torah or is there more? How do we become recipients of the Torah?

 

The Chovos HaLevavos, in his introduction to the Gate of Trust in HASHEM, spells out a few basic principles that explain the dynamics of Bitachon and how “it works”. Not only how Bitachon works but that Bitachon works. The first postulate is that it is impossible for a person to be free from worry unless he relies on HASHEM. This bold statement is calling out for an explanation. Bitachon is not sitting back passively and watching things happen. It is a division of labor, a working relationship built on trust.

 

I need to stay focused on my job, whatever is in my sphere of influence, and my Partner, HASHEM, takes care of everything and everyone else in the world. I cannot do my job if I am constantly bombarded by concerns about how everything and everyone else will be managed or controlled. It’s distracting at a minimum and ultimately maddening to bear the burden of a world over which you have no control. In the end, a person will not be able to do his primary job which is to first develop himself and then influence his family and friends.

 

He will be so busy being global that he will fail to be local, and it gets worse. The second postulate of the Chovos HaLevavos is that if one is not relying on HASHEM, then, by default, he is relying on something or someone else. It may be his good looks, his glib tongue, his rich uncle, Uncle Sam, a political connection, or public opinion. So, we see that a person has a natural trait, an instinct, a need to trust. The only question is, in what or whom he is trusting?!

The Chovos HaLevavos then states something that only he could say with certainty, and it explains a lot, and maybe everything. He states that HASHEM places the person into the limited capacity of whatever he believes in and trusts. Let’s see how far a person can go with his good looks alone.

 

If one relies on his money or popularity then he is left vulnerable and insecure. Whatever he is placing his trust and hope in, whatever he is relying on becomes his boss, his god. This is what he is dedicated to working for and protect and to satisfy at all costs.

 

Can a person have all of these good things and still rely solidly on HASHEM? Yes! How so? There is a Hallacha that a person is not allowed to lean on a lectern, a Shtender when Davening, Shmona Esreh. What is the standard that defines leaning on? If the person estimates, if the Shtender would be suddenly removed, would he remain stable or would he fall?! What if I didn’t have my money or friends anymore? Would I – could I still stand happily before HASHEM or would my world crumble?

 

Now, what was the purpose of this stuff called MANN? It was a training ground for the entire Jewish People to realize that we are absolutely reliant on HASHEM. We can have everything but if we don’t have HASHEM then we have nothing. If we have nothing else but we have HASHEM then we have everything. Now we can each focus on our job, learning Torah and doing Mitzvos, and raising a next generation to do the same, because while we are busily engaged in our job, everything else is reliably being catered and managed and perfectly ordered by our capable Partner.