Parashas Beshalach
Shabbos Shira
Tu B'Shvat
15 Shevat 5770

January 30, 2010
Daf Yomi: Bava Basra 162

Guest Author:
Rabbi Lawrence Teitelman
Young Israel of New Hyde Park

www.yinhp.org

 

Its origins may be obscure, but we all know the riddle “Why did the chicken cross the road?” and its hackneyed solution, “To get to the other side.” One might therefore expect that the answer to the question “Why did the Israelites cross the sea?” could be similarly formulated as “To get to the other side.” Yet, Tosafos (Arakhin 15a) famously tell us – and, for good measure, even provide a supportive illustration – that in fact Bnei Yisrael traveled through the waters in semi-circles, emerging on the same side of the Yam Suf as that from which they had entered.

While perhaps then the Jews never completely crossed the sea, another major transformation most certainly was taking place in Parashas Beshalach. The nation that left Egypt in Parashas Bo was qualitatively different from the one that would stand at Mount Sinai in Parashas Yisro. In the familiar words of Midrash Tanchuma, halalu ovdei avoda zara, ve-halalu ovdei avoda zara – the Jews of Egypt are described, like their gentile neighbors, as a group of idolaters. When Bnei Yisrael entered the sea, if they were not drowning in the water, they were, according to tradition, submerged up to their necks in the depths of spiritual impurity – the forty-nine shaarei tumah. Suddenly, only one parasha later, they are at the foot of Har Sinai - purified, sanctified, and assembled to receive the Torah. Chronologically, less than two months had elapsed since the great Exodus - not a whole lot of time in the context of an indentured existence spanning several hundred years - yet they went from being avadim le-Pharaoh be-mitzrayim, Pharaoh’s slaves, to avadim la-Makom, servants of G-d. According to Rashi’s opening comments to Bereshis, it was only in Parashas Bo that the Jews first received their inaugural commandment as a people – Kiddush Ha-Chodesh, the sanctification of the moon – and now suddenly they are willing and able to accept the taryag mitzvos, the entire gamut of 613 Biblical Commandments. What exactly transpired in Parashas Beshalach that facilitated this metamorphosis?

An insight into the mechanics of this transmutation may possibly be gleaned by comparing the accounts at the beginning and end of Beshalach. The parasha commences by explaining why G-d did not lead Bnei Yisrael by way of the land of the Philistines: pen yinachem ha-am bir’osam milchama ve-shavu Mitzrayma, lest the Jewish nation reconsider upon seeing war and return to Egypt. Though they were properly armed (chamushim), the mere sight of military activity anywhere in their vicinity would be enough to unnerve them and have them do an “about face” and head back to Egypt. (Presumably, they would have all qualified as chozrim me-irkei milchama – those that are exempt from warfare because, among other considerations, they were easily intimidated.) Hence, an indirect and obscure route was necessary to prevent such a retreat that could ultimately undermine the entire Exodus and all the events that led up to it. Moreover, even when Pharaoh catches up with them and arrives on the scene, Moshe declares hisyatzvu u-re’u es yeshuas Hashem – stay fixed in place – with a connotation of paralysis (like the netziv melach – the pillar of salt that was Lot’s wife). Hashem yilachem lakhem, ve-atem tacharishun – G-d will do all the fighting; you – the Jewish people – just remain silent, and don’t do anything else for that matter. 

Now, contrast this to the concluding episode in the parasha. War indeed breaks out, not just in full view of the Israelites, but with the Israelites. Va-yavo Amalek va-yilachem im Yisrael bi-Refidim - Amalek came and fought with Israel in Refidim. At this point, despite whatever circuitous trajectory may have once been in place to avoid such a scenario, now they had encountered war and not only weren’t they backtracking, but they were fully engaged in the battle. Moshe instructs Yehoshua bechar lanu anashim ve-tze hilachem ba-Amalek – find men - mortal men - who will lead the military effort. True, as the Mishna (Rosh Hashana 3:8) asks rhetorically, ve-khi yadav shel Moshe osos milchama o yadav shovros milchama, is it really the hands (or any other physical action) of Moshe and his associates that will determine the fate of Israel in the war, yet their active and proactive involvement (G-d interjects only after the enemy has been crushed) is apparently a prerequisite for the Siyata Di-Shemaya, the Divine assistance that enabled the victory.

Along these lines, and probably more well known, is the Midrash that describes the events that led up to the splitting of the sea. It was not enough, as the Torah describes, for Moshe to stretch out his hand over the sea, but rather someone – usually identified as Nachshon ben Aminadav – would have to “jump in.” The days in Egypt where the Jews were told ve-atem lo setzu ish mi-pesach beiso ad boker – no one should even dare leave their house during the plague, rather they should sit home passively - are over. Moshe, who gets only a single en passant mention in the entire Hagada - the official record of the Exodus (Va-yaaminu ba-Hashem u-ve-Moshe avdo) - will become the major protagonist when it comes to the Torah received at Har Sinai, enough so that it is referred to as Toras Moshe avdi – the Torah of Moshe.

Although the Torah was a gift from Above, and will forever be invested with an unparalleled degree of sanctity, the human role in the transmission of Torah is paramount. Lo ba-Shamayim hi – that the Torah is not in the Heavens – does not merely relate to the decision process, the pesak Halakha, but rather the entire enterprise of Talmud Torah. If Bnei Yisrael would need to understand that the continuum of Torah in this world – the spiritual endeavor unleashed in Parashas Yisro - depended on them and not just on G-d, then this lesson was best realized by first appreciating their role in the more mundane challenges of the physical survival in Pasrahas Beshalach.

Accordingly, it is no wonder that other parts of Yisro, as well as Parasha Mishpatim, deal primarily not with ritual matters but rather the establishment of a court system and the adjudication of legal affairs. While discharging personal religious obligations is certainly an integral component of Torah observance, the human element in the survival of the legacy of Torah is even more apparent in the context of Batei Din, where it is not only a question of individual performance, but the transmission of Torah from one generation to the next and the application of Torah to all of society’s challenges.

The proverbial chicken may have crossed the road simply to get to the other side. For Bnei Yisrael in Beshalach, however, there was a lot more at work as they traveled from the plains of Egypt to the Mountain at Sinai. While the waters of the Yam Suf may have been palpably prohibitive, little did the Jews know quite how much was in store for them after they would traverse the sea. The experience in Beshalach was an eye-opener, not just in terms of an unrivaled revelation of G-d’s wonders, but also the collective transformation of the nation that would enable them to properly become His people. 

 

Dedicated to the memory of my grandmother, Chana bas Yitzchak ha-Levi (Yahrzeit - 8 Shevat).

Good Shabbos

THE WEEKLY SIDRA- BESHALACH

Rabbi Moshe Greebel

There are those difficult to avoid times, when our emotions get the best of us, and we say something in the presence of others, that should have better been left unsaid.  At such times, under such desperate circumstances, we verbally commit ourselves to foolish obligations from which we cannot escape- all in the passion of the moment. 

To illustrate how harmful it is to allow the mouth to fire off a fusillade, prior to the brain having a chance to think it through, the following account, from the Text M’kor Baruch, is presented.  This narrative takes place in the time of Rav Yechezkel Ben Yehuda Landau (author of the Nodah B’Y’huda 1713- 1793) of blessed memory.

Now, in that time, there was a very well known question of Halacha (ritual law), that was discussed by the entire Rabbinate of Poland.  This question in Halacha, dealt with two brothers, who for the majority of their lives, lived in love and peace one with the other.  They were partners in several businesses and other interests, and were always concerned one for the other.

However, at some later juncture of their lives, the two brothers began to quarrel over everything- one wildly accusing the other of anything that came to mind.  Their lives of amity and tranquility were transformed into envy and constant bickering.  Now, this was the status quo for the longest time, until something took place.

One brother, by this time so disgusted with his sibling, allowed his emotions to get the best of him, and took a Sh’vua (an oath) in public, that he would never look his brother in the face again.  When the other brother heard of this, he was so taken back and sick with grief, that he fell gravely ill, and eventually died.

And, when the surviving brother heard that his sibling had died because of this Sh’vua, he as well was grieved to his very heart, and now deeply desired to see his dead brother a last time, prior to burial.  But, he had taken a severe Sh’vua, and was still forbidden perhaps, to look upon the face of his dead brother.

The surviving brother presented himself before the Rabbanim of his city in Poland, and requested a way from them, in which he could yet see the face of his brother one last time.  The majority of these Rabbanim were of the opinion that only through Hataras Sh’vua (the voiding of an oath by Bais Din) could the brother see the face of his deceased sibling.  Their logic in this matter was straight out of Shas and Poskim (Gemarah and later authorities), as we see from Tos’fos in N’darim 23b:

“In the voiding of all oaths, a contrition from the beginning is necessary.”

That is, even though one swore, it might be resolved that he had reservations when he swore.  Under such circumstances, a Bais Din of three Dayanim (judges) could be Matir (make permissible that which the Sh’vua forbade).

However, when this question came before the Nodah B’Y’huda, who was still at the time a very young man, he stated that Hataras Sh’vua would not be necessary, since there were open P’sukim (verses) in the Torah, that would plainly provide the correct answer.  In this week’s Sidra, Moshe said to the B’nai Yisroel:

“…..For the Egyptians whom you have seen today, you shall never see them again.”  (Sh’mos 14:13)

Now, as is known to everyone, all that Moshe said in the Torah was through HaShem.  And certainly, anything obtained directly from HaShem is at least as good as a Sh’vua which would be taken by flesh and blood.  Here, the ‘Sh’vua’ of HaShem was that the B’nai Yisroel would never see the Egyptians again.

However, after Kriyas Yam Suf (splitting of Reed Sea), when the Egyptian host was all dead, the Passuk (verse) informs us:

“…..And Yisroel saw the Egyptians dead upon the sea shore.”  (ibid. 14:30)

How could they have looked upon the dead Egyptians, posed the Nodah B’Y’huda?  Didn’t HaShem state that ‘You shall never see them again’?  It must therefore, be that the Sh’vua not to see someone’s face again, does not extend to seeing his face when dead!  And so, the surviving sibling was permitted to look upon the face of his dead brother, prior to his burial.

Citing these two very P’sukim, this answer of the Nodah B’Y’huda can be seen in the Zohar HaKadosh Sh’mos section II (53b):

“…..Rabbi Yosi, in answer, pointed out that after all, they saw them dead.”

Another reason for the B’nai Yisroel being permitted to see the dead Egyptians is presented as well in the above Zohar.  But, we shall leave things as they are for the present.

While the Torah in several instances, grants us the ability to climb out of the hole we’ve dug for ourselves, we must still be very careful at all times to keep a good watch for what we injudiciously might utter, as a result of emotional turmoil.  Once words get out, they stay out.

Perhaps, the best advice not to give in verbally to one’s inner demons, is offered in the words of Shammai in Pirkei Avos 1-15:

“…..Say little, and do much…..”

This same sound advice can be found there in the words of Rabbi Shimon, the son of Rabban Gamliel (ibid. 1-17):

“…..All my days, I grew up among the Chachamim (scholars), and I have never found anything more beneficial for a man, than silence.”

Rather than being a Ma’amid Al Midosov (one who stands on his character), a Jew must strive to be Ma’avir Al Midosov (one who goes beyond his character).  At times, the natural inclination of anger or outrage in a man, will demand a verbal response on his part.  Yet, the Gemarah in Gittin 36b instructs:

“Our Rabbis taught, ‘They who suffer insults, but do not inflict them, who hear themselves reviled, and do not answer back, who perform (Mitzvos) from love and rejoice in chastisement, of such the Scripture says, “And they that love Him are like the Sun when it goes forth in His might” (Shoftim 5:31).’”

May we soon see the G’ulah Sh’laimah in its complete resplendency- and in our times.  Good Shabbos.