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.
