Shemot 5785: Pawns of History

GOOD MORNING! This week’s Torah portion is the beginning of the second book of the Torah known as “Shemot – Names.” This book title comes from the opening verse in this week’s Torah portion:

“These are the names of the children of Israel that came to Egypt” (Exodus 1:1).

However, in English the book is known as Exodus. This is an entirely reasonable title as much of the first half of the book relates to the slavery of the Jewish people in Egypt and the events leading to their eventual freedom. In fact, most of the weekly Torah portions in Exodus are directly relevant to the stories behind leaving Egypt and the acceptance of the Torah on Mount Sinai shortly thereafter (including the sin of the Golden Calf).

This makes the Hebrew name for the book – Shemot – seem a bit odd; it is non-descriptive and seems to ignore the incredible events leading up to the birth of the Jewish people. It is particularly strange that the book called Names introduces the primary figures of the upcoming stories by totally omitting their names!

“A man of the house of Levi went and married Levi’s daughter. The woman became pregnant and had a son. When she realized how extraordinary he was she hid him for three months. When she could no longer hide him, she placed him in a box that she had waterproofed and placed him among the reeds on the banks of the Nile. The child’s sister stood watch over him to see what would happen” (Exodus 2:1-4).

The "man" that the Torah is talking about is Amram – the preeminent leader of the Jewish people. The “daughter” of Levi was Yocheved. The nondescript “son” was none other than Moses, and his anonymous “sister” was the soon to be famous Miriam. Even the woman who saved Moses is known simply as “Pharaoh’s daughter.” So why is the book called Names?

Later in this week’s Torah reading we find that Moses has to flee Egypt because he killed an Egyptian taskmaster who was viciously beating one of the Jewish slaves. Pharaoh heard of the incident and sentenced him to death, at which point Moses decides that it would be wise to “get out of Dodge.” He flees to nearby Midian and is sitting by a well – minding his own business – when he notices male shepherds harassing some female shepherds and preventing them from drawing water for their sheep.

The women were the daughters of Jethro who had been banned from communal life in Midian because of their father’s rejection of idol worship. Jethro had been a high priest in Midian, and perhaps unsurprisingly, his community took his rejection of idol worship rather poorly. Thus, his status there was considerably diminished, and his daughters were harassed and prevented from watering their sheep.

Moses runs off the male shepherds who were harassing them and gives them the opportunity to water their sheep first. Jethro notices that his daughters arrive home earlier than usual, and he asks them what happened, they reply, “An Egyptian rescued us from some shepherds” (2:18-19).

The sages of the Midrash (Shemos Rabbah 1:32) teach that when they said “An Egyptian rescued us” this alluded not to Moses but rather to the Egyptian that Moses killed, the one that forced him to flee Egypt and arrive on their doorstep. The Midrash illustrates this with the following analogy; a man was bitten by a wild donkey and ran to a nearby river to soak his leg in the cool water.

As soon as he gets to the river, he notices a child drowning and he pulls him out. The child remarks, “If it hadn’t been for you, I would have surely drowned!” The man responds, “Do not thank me, thank the wild donkey that bit me. For if it had not been for his bite I never would have headed to the river, and I wouldn’t have seen you drowning.” So too Moses explained to them that if it had not been for the Egyptian he killed he never would have been at the well in Midian to save them.

This was the story they retold to their father. The Torah informs us that Jethro told his daughters to go and find the man who saved them, and to invite him for dinner. Moses agrees to spend some time at Jethro’s home, he settles there, and ultimately Jethro offers Moses his oldest daughter’s hand in marriage.

What is going on here? Moses came from one of the most prominent Jewish families in Egypt, was raised in the palace by the Pharaoh, and will become the greatest prophet to ever live. How is he suddenly marrying the daughter of a local ex-priest from Midian, a woman whom we hardly know anything about?

(I am reminded of the many times in my 35 years of marriage when I would introduce someone to my wife; they would look at her for a moment and make some small talk, all the while a bit wide eyed, and I just knew they were thinking, “Wow. How did this guy ever convince someone like her to marry him?”)

In next week’s Torah reading, when it came time to strike Pharaoh and the Egyptian slave masters with plagues, we see that Moses does not initiate the plagues that affect the Nile River (it turned into blood), nor the soil of Egypt (which turned into a massive plague of fleas). The sages explain that because the Nile had protected Moses when he was a baby, and the earth had benefitted Moses when he buried the Egyptian taskmaster that he had killed, Moses was prohibited from striking both the Nile and the ground because he owed them debts of gratitude.

The Midrash illustrates this core value of having gratitude with the following aphorism: “One ought to not cast stones into a well from which he drank.”

We have often discussed the concept of adopting an “attitude of gratitude” being a core tenet of Judaism. In fact, the great 13th century Jewish philosopher Rabbeinu Yonah of Gironde (today Gerona in Catalonia, Spain) points out the importance of starting one’s day with the quick prayer of Modeh Ani as soon as one awakens. This prayer, which expresses gratitude to the Almighty, in his words “inflames a love and appreciation for the Almighty” first thing in the morning.

Still, one must wonder at this concept raised by the sages of owing a debt of gratitude to an inanimate object such as a well or, in Moses’ case, the Nile and the soil in Egypt. It seems patently absurd. How are we to understand what our sages are trying to teach us?

It is important to understand that Judaism does not believe that inanimate objects have any special magical powers. In fact, that concept borders on idol worship. To be sure – we place mezuzot on the doorways of our homes and wrap teffilin (phylacteries) – both of which contain chapters from the holy Torah and seem similar to “mystical” amulets – but they serve a specific purpose of consecrating oneself and one’s home in the service of the Almighty. The focus is squarely on the channeling of connection to the Almighty, not – God Forbid – the innate power of those objects.

Similarly, we wear tzizit (ritual fringe corners) to remind us of God’s commandments and that we are to guard our eyes and hearts from going astray. It is not the tzitzit that provides the protection – it is our conscious effort to improve who we are and become God-like that induces holiness within our lives.

Maimonides, in his epic work on philosophy Guide to the Perplexed (1:61) discusses writing “healing names of angels” or other amulets and dismisses them as silly and foolish, things in which “no sane individual should engage.”

(In a similar vein, I have always been disturbed by the supposedly “holy objects” that are often distributed for “protection,” like red strings. I believe they fall squarely in the category wherein Maimonides characterizes the purveyors of such items as misguided, and the people who believe in them as fools.)

By contrast, the sages do encourage people to have an appreciation for inanimate objects that naturally bring us closer to the Almighty. For example, according to Jewish law, when a person comes to a place in which a miracle occurred for him or his ancestors, he is obligated to make a special blessing thanking the Almighty. It is not about the place containing holiness, it’s the appreciation of what the Almighty did for him there that causes an outpouring of gratitude for God, who orchestrated the miracle. Like teffilin, mezuzot, and tzitzit, our focus is directed back to God – the source of all blessings.

We must consciously zero in on everything and anything that reminds us of the gratitude that we owe the Almighty. Whether it’s a well we drank from, or Moses’ odd relationship with the Nile and the soil of Egypt – we cannot do anything that lessens the feelings of gratitude that we owe the Almighty. That is why we do not throw rocks in wells that we benefitted from, and Moses was not the appropriate agent to initiate those plagues on the Nile and soil of Egypt.

The reason that the book of Exodus is simply called Shemot or Names is because the second book of the Torah is concerned with showing us that the guiding hand of the Almighty is behind everything in creation; God alone orchestrated events in such a way to achieve the birth of the Jewish nation by taking us as slaves out of Egypt and giving us the Torah. The personalities in the story – and how they came to be – are mostly irrelevant.

This is also why – as strange as it seems – Moses felt that the daughters of Jethro should understand that he was only there through the hand of God – the strange circumstances that forced him to leave Egypt and arrive at their doorstep could have only been orchestrated by the Almighty. The Egyptian taskmaster whom Moses rightfully killed was simply a pawn to reveal the power of God in moving the world in a certain direction. When Moses saw that they understood his message he felt that this was a family with which he could connect, and he eventually marries the daughter of Jethro.

Shemot, Exodus 1:1 – 6:1

This week's portion tells a story often repeated throughout history: The Jews become prominent and numerous. There arises a new king in Egypt “who did not know Joseph” (meaning he chose not to know Joseph or recognize any debt of gratitude). He proclaims slavery for the Jewish people “lest they may increase so much, that if there is war, they will join our enemies and fight against us, driving (us) from the land.”

Moses is born and immediately hidden because of the decree to kill all male Jewish babies. Moses is saved by Pharaoh’s daughter, grows up in the royal household, and goes out to see the plight of his fellow Jews. He kills an Egyptian who was beating a Jew, escapes to Midian when the deed becomes known, becomes a shepherd, and then is commanded by God at the Burning Bush to “bring My people out of Egypt.” Moses returns to Egypt and confronts Pharaoh who refuses to give permission for the Israelites to leave. God says, “Now you will begin to see what I will do to Pharaoh!”