Saturday, January 30, 2021

 


Posted on January 17, 2019 (5779) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: L egacy | Level: B

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 T orah.org.

 

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

 


The WAZE of HASHEM • Torah.org

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Posted on January 25, 2018 (5778) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah | Level:

B eginner

 

It came to pass when Pharaoh sent the people, that G-d did not lead them [by] way of the land of the Philistines for it was near, because G-d said, “Lest the people reconsider when they see war and return to Egypt.” (Shemos 13:17)

 

Lest the people reconsider: They will have [second] thoughts about [the fact] that they left Egypt and they will think about returning. (Rashi)

 

The Jewish People have finally been granted permission to leave Egypt, after 10 powerful plagues. There is a short cut to go to the “Promised Land” and they take a detour that leads them into a trap by the Red Sea and a circuitous route through the desert. Why were they led the longer way?

 

They were sent by Pharaoh. The umbilical cord had not yet been severed. They were still like a yoyo on the end of his string. The greatest proof for this is when they were trapped by the sea. Pharaoh was accompanied by 600 chosen chariots and they managed to terrorize a group of more than 3 million people. The Jewish People were still under the spell of Pharaoh as their boss. They were not ready to confront the warrior resistance required to enter Eretz Yisrael.

 

As a nation we needed to go through some enormous training sessions that would fully install the lessons of Emunah and Bitachon – absolute trust in G-d! They were in need of experiencing, the splitting of the sea, a war with Amalek, the daily gift of Bread from Heaven before they could begin to be ready to face the real challenges of life.

 

We are granted here a window into the one of the ways of HASHEM. It’s helpful to understand what happened here at this point in history and it is instructive for many other situations as well.


I once heard the following profoundly practical answer from Rabbi Nota Schiller the Dean of Ohr Somayach in Jerusalem in response to an oft asked question: “Rabbi, why do bad things happen to good people? Why is there suffering and disappointment in this world?”


Rabbi Schiller pithily stated that when it comes to answering the question of suffering on any scale there is a difference between an answer and an approach. An answer eliminates the question. If I ask what 2 plus 2 is, the number 4 negates the need for the question. We have our answer.

 

Any single approach might include understanding life in a greater context from a number of angles. There are a few approaches that can be rattled off here and now. There are transmigrating souls finishing parts of previous missions. There’s a “pay now” versus “pay later” plan- in the face of eternity. Sometimes people are being saved from becoming corrupted and ruined. Then there is the possibility that someone is currently not ready for the size of the challenge. Even though we may not know which approach applies in a particular situation, some approach we may be aware of or another which is way beyond our understanding must apply. An approach unlike an answer allows us to live with the question.

 

I have learned (the hard way) to trust my GPS- WAZE. One Friday morning I went to pick up my son at the airport. I was taken off the parkway and sent on a long series of side roads.

When I was directed to merge back onto the Hutchinson River Parkway from the service road, just behind the ramp to go on was a truck stuck under an overpass. The traffic was backed up for miles. I was spared that whole mess. I picked up my son on time.

 

A family in Bnei Brak was granted a much-needed free vacation in Sefad. When they arrived they were shocked to discover that the rental had been double-booked and someone was already there. Before heading back home, deeply disappointed the father and his son stopped to Daven Mincha.

 

The son channeled his family’s frustration into his prayers. Impressed by the quality of his devotion, the Rabbi of the Shul took notice of him and thought he might be a good match for his daughter. The idea was pursued. They were introduced and later wed. It was certainly worthwhile to take that detour and follow trustingly the WAZE of HASHEM.


 




Saturday, January 23, 2021

 


Total Control • Torah.org

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Posted on January 9, 2019 (5779) By Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky | Series: Drasha | Level:

B eginner

 

“Come to Pharaoh,” says the Almighty at the beginning of this week’s portion. “For I will harden his heart and the hearts of his servants in order to put my wonders in his midst.”

 

The concept of a hardened heart, influenced by Divine intervention, is grappled with by countless commentators and myriad meforshim. After all, how do we reconcile a Divinely hardened heart with free-will?

 

Some explain that Divinity only influenced

Pharaoh’s physical resilience, as Hashem did not want to score a definitive knockout in the early rounds. Others discuss how Divine intervention can actually hinder the opportunity of penitence.

 

All in all, the natural order was changed, and the imposition on Pharaoh’s free-will rarely occurs to the rest of humanity.

 

What troubles me, however, is the juxtaposition of Hashem’s request that Moshe once again beseech Pharaoh, followed by the words, “because I will harden his heart.”

 

Aren’t those two separate thoughts? Shouldn’t the command be “go to Pharaoh because I want him to free My people”?

 

From the word flow it seems that Hashem’s hardening of Pharaoh’s heart was a reason for Moshe to go to Pharaoh. Was it?

 

A friend of mine told me the following story. Years ago, he visited an amusement park. Among the attractions was a haunted house. It was pitch black inside, save for dim lights that illuminated all types of lurking monsters strategically placed to scare the defiant constituency that dared to enter the domain.

 

Reading the warnings for park patrons who were either under 12 years old, below a certain height, or suffering high blood pressure or heart disease, my friend hurried his family past the attraction. He only glanced at the almost infinite list of other caveats and exculpatory proclamations from the management. He surely did not want his kids to challenge him to the altar of the outrageous.


Then he noticed the line that was forming. The only life form it contained was tattooed motorcyclists, each more than six feet tall and broadly built.

 

In spite of the ominous warnings that were posted, they stood anxiously in line waiting to prove their masculinity to themselves and the groups that hurried by the frightening attraction.

 

But nestled among the miscreants of machismo, he noticed a young boy, no more than seven- years-old, standing on line. He was laughing and giggling as if he were about to ride a carousel.

 

My friend could not contain himself. Surely, he could not let a young child like that show him up.

 

“Sonny,” he called to the boy. “Can’t you read? This is a really scary ride. And besides, you’re not even ten!” The boy just laughed. “Why should I be scared?”

 

“Why should you be scared?” my friend asked incredulously. “This is the scariest ride in the park! It is pitch black in there! You can’t see a thing — except for the monsters!”

 

The boy’s smile never faded. In fact it broadened. Then he revealed the source of his courage.

 

“You see the man over there?” He pointed to a middle-age fellow who sat in front of a switch- filled control box.

 

“Well that’s my dad! If I just give one scream,” exclaimed the child, “all he does is flip one switch and all the lights go on, and the monsters turn into plastic dummies!”

 

Rav Yecheil Meir Lifschutz of Gustinin explains that Hashem began the final stages of the redemption commanding Moshe, “Go to Pharaoh.” Hashem’s next words were said as the reason to disregard any of Pharaoh’s yelling, shouting, and cavorting. They are totally meaningless, “Because I will harden his heart. I am the one in control. I am the one who hardens hearts and causes tyrants to drive you from their palaces.” With one flip of a heavenly switch they will chase after you in the darkest night and beg you to do the will of he Creator.” So “Go to Pharaoh,” says the Almighty “because I am the one who hardens his heart!”

 

When faced with challenges, we can approach them with a sense of certainty if we know that there is a higher destiny that steers our fate. We can even walk into the den of a Pharaoh with the confidence of one who knows that it is the Master of Creation who is pulling the switch.




A Matter of Time • Torah.org

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Posted on January 10, 2019 (5779) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: L egacy

Egypt reels under a barrage of plagues.

Pharaoh’s stubborn resistance is finally crumbling. The Jewish people sense the long-awaited end of their enslavement. Hashem is about to take them out of bondage and forge them into His chosen people, the recipients of His holy Torah. Indeed, even before the final plague is administered to the Egyptians,


Hashem already gives them their very first mitzvah as a nation. 

So what is this first mitzvah that will cement the nascent relationship between Hashem and our emancipated ancestors whom He has chosen as His own special people? One might have expected an exalted ideal, such as the mitzvah of emunah, faith in Hashem. Or perhaps a mitzvah of personal refinement, such as loving other Jews as oneself. But no. It was the very practical mitzvah of establishing a lunar calendar to regulate the annual cycle of festivals and observances. This is really quite baffling. Why this particular mitzvah? Would it not have been more appropriate perhaps to initiate the Jewish people with a mitzvah that represents transcendent spiritual concepts?

 

Let us reflect for a moment on one of the more notorious features of our society – the mad rush that characterizes our daily existence. The rhythm of our lives is driven by the ticktocking of the clock. Our jobs, our schedules, our appointments, rush hour traffic, all the aspects of our contemporary lifestyles are measured and regulated by the inexorable clock. But this is not really a new phenomenon. The accelerated pace of society has simply highlighted one of the fundamental truths of the world – that the most precious commodity by far is time.

 

“Time is money!” we are told, but a wise man once turned this adage on its ear and said, “Money is time!” Time, not money, is the fundamental currency by which the value of all things is measured.

 

Coming out of bondage, the Jewish people were presented with a sudden wealth of time. As slaves, their time had been stripped away from them, but now they got it back. What would they do with this great treasure that was about to fall into their laps?

 

This crucial question was answered by the mitzvah of establishing the calendar. When designating the new month, the Beth Din declares, “Mekudash, mekudash! Sanctified, sanctified!” Hashem gave the Jewish people the power to sanctify time by what they say and


do, not only to give it worth but to imbue it with holiness. Rosh Chodesh, the first day of the new month, has the status of a minor festival, reminding us that we can consecrate all the moments of our lives. By living in a way consistent with Torah values and ideals, we consecrate our time and preserve it for all eternity. This mitzvah, therefore, does indeed represent some of the most transcendent spiritual concepts in the Torah. This mitzvah, delivered with the gift of time, was indeed a most fitting beginning for the special relationship between Hashem and the people He had chosen as His own.

 

The mitzvah of establishing the calendar also highlights another aspect of time – its cyclical nature. Life, as we know all too well, is an endless procession of ups and downs, with no guarantees as to the outcome. But the eternal existence of the Jewish nation is unconditionally guaranteed by our Creator. The symbol of this guarantee is the lunar cycle which our calendar follows. The Jewish people are compared to the moon. Just as the moon wanes to the point of oblivion but always returns to its fullness, so will the Jewish people always return to their greatness, no matter how far they are driven down by the pressures of exile.

 

Therefore, the mitzvah of the calendar was doubly appropriate for the time it was given. The Jews were slaves deprived of spirituality and even basic human dignity, a people on the verge of extinction, yet they would once again glow with the brightness of the full moon. They had been mired for centuries at the nadir of human existence, but now Hashem had lifted them up and placed them on the pinnacle of Creation.

 

A man once visited a great sage.

 

“How is your life going?” asked the sage, “Spiritually? Materially?”

 

“Splendid!” said the man. “Everything is excellent. It’s been great for years and years. Couldn’t be better.”

 

“Life without ups and downs? You are living in a dream world. If you do not know you are down, how do you expect to get up?”

 

In our own lives, we can also take comfort in the metaphor of the lunar cycle. The flow of time is a harbinger of hope, both for ourselves as individuals and for all of us as a people. But even as we wait for the future, it is within our power to sanctify the present, to give meaning and value to our time by the manner in which we live. We can mold our time into a bridge to

an illuminated future.

 

Text Copyright © 2008 by Rabbi Naftali Reich and T orah.org.

 

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




Don’t Let Your Ego get the Best of You

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Posted on January 18, 2010 (5770) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level:

B eginner

 

The entire story of the Torah regarding the redemption of the Jewish slaves from Egypt descends into a contest of wills. Pharaoh reaches the limit of his patience in this week’s parsha. He warns Moshe not to dare come and see him again. He assesses that Moshe’s demands are not serious since he remains inflexible and not open to any compromise regarding them. He also apparently believes that Moshe has run out of plagues to visit on Egypt.

 

The troubles that Moshe has visited on Egypt have not dented the spirit of Pharaoh. Only when finally his own life is threatened and when all of Egypt is mourning its deaths does Pharaoh waver in his determination to refuse Moshe’s requests. And even then he will soon regret his decision to free the Jews from Egyptian slavery. What is the reason for Pharaoh’s behavior?

 

His advisers have long ago declared to him that Egypt is lost if he continues on his present course of recalcitrant behavior. Yet Pharaoh is unwilling to concede to Moshe. Their discussions and differences have now turned personal and no logic can any longer rule the day. His angry outburst to Moshe and his banishing him from his palace marks the breaking point in his behavior.

 

There will be no reasoning with him from now forward. Only the blows of the deaths of the first born Egyptians will affect him and, as mentioned above, only weakly and temporarily. His stubbornness will eventually lead to great tragedy and loss for his people.

 

But that is always the way of tyrants. Blinded by one’s own ego, uncaring as to the fate of others, deluded by one’s own alleged infallibility, stubbornness and illogic rule the day. Pharaoh cannot be wrong. He seems himself as never having been wrong. Lord Acton’s famous phrase that

 

“absolute power corrupts absolutely” is always borne out to be accurate.

 

The struggle for Pharaoh’s mind and soul is what the Torah is teaching us here. The kings of Israel always had prophets that pricked the bubble of their ego. Moshe may be banished from the Pharaoh’s palace but his message cannot be so contained. Ideas and spirit are the stuff of human existence. Eventually they penetrate the most closed of palaces and societies. That is what Moshe is trying to convey to Pharaoh. The prophet stated that Pharaoh thought himself to be a god – the god of the Nile no less.

 

All dictators think themselves to be gods. Their pictures of themselves are to be regarded as talismans and no criticism of themselves is allowed. Judaism spares no one from criticism, even our greatest leaders. There are no perfect people and there is no human that in any way can be deemed as a god. Moshe’s visits and conversations with Pharaoh were meant to have him realize that he is only human and therefore prone to error and mistakes.

 

Pharaoh is unwilling to hear that message from Moshe and therefore he will be forced to hear it from plagues and death itself. This type of confrontation is a lesson to all of us as to dangers of power and ego. It is the contest between Moshe’s humility and Pharaoh’s arrogance. And we all know who won out in that contest.

 

Shabat shalom. Rabbi Berel Wein


Saturday, January 16, 2021

 


Hiding in the Open Daily

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Posted on January 16, 2015 (5775) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah | Level:

B eginner

 

And G-d spoke to Moshe and said to him; “I am Hashem! I appeared to Avraham to Yitzchok and to Yaakov as El Shaddai, but with My name HASHEM I did not make Myself known to them. (Shemos: 2-3)

 

What’s this whole business with the names of HASHEM!? Why should G-d have so many different names? This admittedly can be confusing and even misleading to not only the uninitiated but to many veterans as well. Sometimes, like to the Avos HASHEM appeared as Aleph-Lamed and Shin- Dalet-Yud! What do those two names mean? Why are different names used if HASHEM is ONE!?

 

I have an old friendship with a fellow whose name is Aaron. We were study partners. For years he was a milkman. He was our milkman. The truck would pull up the driveway and he would emerge from the back with fresh milk and reliably park a few cartons on our doorstep. My children looking out the window would declare and so would if I was up so early to catch it, “The milkman is here!” That’s how we related to him. He was the milkman.

 

Later that morning when his route was finished and he would appear in the study hall and I would declare, “Oh my study partner- my chavrusa is here!” Going to a wedding or entering a store, when I would meet him in a casual pedestrian setting, I would say, “How are you doing my friend Reb Aaron!?” That’s how I know Aaron in all his different roles, as they related to or showed up in my life. Who is Aaron, when he goes home and the door is closed, and he is alone in the heart of his own heart? I have no idea. It is hard enough for me to know who I am! I cannot possibly peer into and have any grasp of who he really is!

 

The same is true of the The Almighty! Sure HASHEM is One! However, He shows up and is manifest in our lives in differing ways. We don’t see, nor can we see in this world of physicality the truth of Who HASHEM is in any way. It is beyond our ken! It has not been revealed to us! All we can know though is how HASHEM relates to the world. We don’t see HASHEM but we see what He does.

 

Similarly, no one ever saw electricity, but yet we live daily from the many ways that electricity works in our lives. It is a force that powers manifold good things in our lives yet it is abstract in its essence. It is a reliable and predictable force. The name Aleph Lamed implies force and direction. HASHEM in the garment of that name is the source of the directive power of this world.

 

That the earth spins regularly at 1000 mph and hurtles on its elliptical orbit around the sun at almost 67,000 miles an hour, at a steady rate is a display of astounding strength that merits a name, a title. That is only a sliver of the might that might be discovered. It’s the Aleph, the “Oneness in multiplicity”- Elochim- with the LAMED giving direction. Lamed as a prefix means “to”. The name of the letter Lamed is “learn”. The shape of the letter is the traced silhouette of a person learning. When a person learns they are gaining direction.

 

The name Shin- Dalet- Yud is that name that is scribed on the outer part of the parchment of a Mezuzah. Inside is written the deeper secret that HASHEM is ONE! On the outside though, is the “natural” world. The name Shim-Dalet-Yud implies a world that is Dai- enough.

Everything is sufficient and perfectly calibrated. Shadaim in Hebrew refer to the place where a child nurses from his mother. Exactly formulated and precisely measured the child gets just what he needs and no more. A minute before he is born there is no milk, and a few moments later the restaurant is open for business. Who could have dreamed of or designed such an efficient system!?

 

We don’t see the owner of this patent but His signature of kindliness and efficiency are inscribed in every detail of each and every one of His works. HASHEM hid Himself sufficiently, as the Talmud describes in Chagiga that He said at one point during the creation “Dai-Enough!”

 

The world is just right! It is opaque with physicality enough to cover HASHEM, and it is translucent, tinged with just enough wonder that real truth seekers like Avraham and his children can find Him hiding in the open, daily.

 

DvarTorah, Copyright © 2007 by Rabbi Label Lam and T orah.org.



Lost in Egypt • Torah.org

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Posted on January 3, 2019 (5779) By Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky | Series: Drasha | Level:

B eginner

 

Negotiating redemption is not a simple process. You must deal with two different sides and send two different messages to opposite parties. First, you must speak to the oppressors. You must be demanding and firm. You cannot show weakness or a willingness to compromise. Then you have to inform to the oppressed. That should be easy: in a soft and soothing manner you gently break the news that they are about to be liberated. They will surely rejoice at the slightest hint that their

time has finally come. That is why I am struck by a verse in this week’s portion that directs Moshe to send the exact same message to Pharoh and the Jewish people, as if Pharoh and the Jews were of one mind, working in tandem. Exodus 6:13 “Hashem spoke to Moshe and Ahron and commanded them to speak to the children of Israel and to Pharoh the King of Egypt, to let the children of Israel leave Egypt” I was always perplexed by this verse. How is it possible to encompass the message to the Jews and Pharoh in one fell swoop? How can you compare the strong demand to Pharoh to the soft, cajoling message necessary for the Jews?

Pharoh, who does not to want to hear of liberation, has to be warned and chastised and even plagued. The Jews should jump at the mention of redemption! Why, then, are the two combined in one verse and with one declaration? There are those who answer that the Jews in this verse actually refer to the Jewish taskmasters who were appointed by Pharoh as kapos to oppress their brethren. Thus the equation is clearly justified. However, I would like to offer a more homiletic explanation:

 

There is a wonderful story of a poor farmer who lived under the rule of a miserable poritz (landowner) in medieval Europe. The evil landowner provided minimal shelter in exchange for a large portion of the farmer’s profits. The farmer and his wife toiled under the most severe conditions to support their family with a few chickens that laid eggs and a cow that gave milk. Ultimately, time took its toll and hardship became the norm. The farmer and his wife had their bitter routine and never hoped for better. One day the farmer came back from the market quite upset. “What’s the matter?” cried his wife, “you look as if the worst calamity has happened.” “It has,” sighed the anxious farmer. “They say in the market that the Moshiach is coming. He will take us all to the land of Israel. What will be of our cow and our chickens?


Where will we live? Who will provide shelter for us? Oy! What is going to be?” His wife, who was steeped with faith in the Almighty, answered calmly. “Don’t worry my dear husband. The Good Lord always protects His people. He saved us from Pharoh in Egypt, He redeemed us from the evil Haman and has protected us from harsh decrees throughout our exile. No doubt he will protect us from this Moshiach too!”

 

Hashem understood that the Jewish people were mired in exile for 210 years. They had decided to endure slavery rather than abandon it. Moshe had to be as forceful with those he was planning to redeem as he was with those who had enslaved them. Often in life, whether by choice or by chance, we enter into situations that we ought not be in. As time progresses, however, we get accustomed to the situation, and our worst enemy becomes change. We must tell the Pharoh within each of us, “let my people go!” Let us not continue on the comfortable path but rather get on the correct one. That message must be told to the victim in us with the same force and intensity as it is told to the complacent.

 

Good Shabbos c1996 Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky

 

Text Copyright © 1996 by R abbi M. Kamenetzky and Project Genesis, Inc.

 

The author is the Dean of the Yeshiva of South Shore.

 

Drasha is the e-mail edition of FaxHomily, a weekly torah facsimile on the weekly portion. FaxHomily is a project of the Henry and Myrtle Hirsch Foundation