Total Control • Torah.org
torah.org/torah-portion/drasha-5760-bo/
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.
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
torah.org/torah-portion/rabbiwein-5770-bo/
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
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