At Sinai, B’nei Yisrael (the Children of Israel) encamped as one. To the eyes of the nations at the time, this massive throng of people, trekking through the desert, may have appeared to be a behemoth, compared to oxen that tear out the roots of the grass they eat, thus completely destroying a field, without its possibility of growing back; yet, from the vantage point of heaven, the people were a divinely chosen nation, being guided into their destiny, via the many tests and trials in the wilderness.
Thus, from an external perspective, based only upon outward appearances, the two-million-person multitude may have appeared somewhat haphazard in its wandering via a circuitous through the wilderness. Yet, not so, from H’Shem’s perspective, nor from the understanding of Moses, the leader of this people.
The continual march of the Jewish people throughout history as well, has not been haphazard. The prophets foresaw our destiny, and paved the way for our understanding, so that we know that our return to Israel had a lot more to do with divine intention, than from political maneuverings. On Shavuot, we recall the giving of the Torah at Sinai, the same commandments that are in effect today, as our national constitution, so to speak, as a nation.
Passover is a time of renewal, reflection, and commitment to our heritage, inclusive of the values that were instituted at Sinai after the Exodus. Moreover, the commandment to re-enact the narrative of the Exodus culminates in the acknowledgment of our own identification with our collective past. We are called every year in Nissan, the first of the months, to actually relive our ancestor’s enslavement in Egypt, and our subsequent redemption. Primarily, this experience of empathy with our former lowliness as a people occurs at the seder – a meal of symbolic foods, wherein we recall the narrative of the Exodus, by reading from the Hagaddah, a collection of scripture, commentary, and prayer.
This is unlike any other meal of the year; and, that is exactly the point. Why is this night different than any other? Because on the night of Passover we travel back in time, as if we were actually present at those momentous events that led towards the Geulah (Redemption). Moreover, we look forward to the Geulah Shleimah (Complete Redemption), otherwise known as the Final Redemption. The tradition on the last day of Passover is to hold a Moshiach Seudah (Meal of Messiah) that casts our thoughts towards the day when we are fully re-estblished in the land of Israel, after the rebuilding of the Third Temple. The Messiah will reign from Jerusalem, and Israel will become a light to the nations; and, the Torah will go out from Zion to all peoples.
Moses was not content with the status quo at the time that he was growing up in Pharaoh’s court. Having known of his lineage, that he was indeed a Hebrew, raised up by Pharaoh’s daughter, Batya, he commiserated with his brethren. In all likelihood, he sought solace apart from the court activities, solitude away from the regal distractions of luxury, and took early morning walks prompted by his soul-stirrings.
On one of these walks, he encountered one of his brethren being beaten by an Egyptian taskmaster. He defended his brother against the Egyptian, and buried the Egyptian in the sand. Perhaps, he thought that this would motivate the Israelites to rise up against their captors. Yet, when he learned the next morning that his reprisal against the Egyptian was known, he was compelled to flee for his life.
He became a shepherd in Midian, and once, while searching for a stray sheep, encountered G-d at the burning bush. So, it wasn’t until forty years after leaving Egypt, that he was given his mission from G-d to serve as the redeemer of his people Israel, alongside his brother, Aaron. And, through G-d’s intervention for the sake of His people, the plagues were sent upon the Egyptian people, as mentioned in parasha Vayeira, wherein the first seven plagues are noted.
It is human nature to be drawn toward some higher purpose in life, unique to the calling of ourselves as individuals. Yet, too easily, without the proper soul-searching necessary in order to find one’s purpose in life, people may get caught up in the most convenient way to find ready-made meaning, such as a movement that promises some type of liberation for self and others. This is not the way to discover one’s true purpose in life, and the implications are far-reaching.
On the one hand, if we bury our heads in the sand like an ostrich was mistakenly thought to do, then we will perceive nothing like we should, within the framework of truth, values, and responsibility. Moses knew who he was; his identity was secure in his association with his kindred people, the Israelites. Today, many in the West suffer from identity confusion at the core of our beings, if our roots have been severed.
And, in such a climate of dissociation from heritage, not anchored in past traditions, beliefs, and practices, lost in doubt about their purpose, people can be easily swayed. Consequently, riding on the wake of the false promises of progressivism, the masses will eagerly receive the promise of a utopia.
Moses was chosen as the redeemer, to bring the message of freedom, along with Aaron to Pharaoh. Moses served as a conduit for G-d’s power, expressed through the plagues and the miracle at the Sea of Reeds. We look to the Final Redeemer, who will serve as a beacon of light in this world of darkness.
At Sinai, B’nei Yisrael (the Children of Israel) encamped as one. To the eyes of the nations at the time, this massive throng of people, trekking through the desert, may have appeared to be a behemoth, compared to oxen that tear out the roots of the grass they eat, thus completely destroying a field, without its possibility of growing back; yet, from the vantage point of heaven, the people were a divinely chosen nation, being guided into their destiny, via the many tests and trials in the wilderness.
Thus, from an external perspective, based only upon outward appearances, the two-million-person multitude may have appeared somewhat disordered, and haphazard in its wandering through the wilderness. Yet, not so, from H’Shem’s perspective, nor from the understanding of Moses, the leader of this people.
The continual march of the Jewish people throughout history as well, has not been haphazard. The prophets foresaw our destiny, and paved the way for our understanding, so that we know that our return to Israel had a lot more to do with divine intention, than from political maneuverings. On Shavuot, we recall the giving of the Torah at Sinai, the same commandments that are in effect today, as our national constitution, so to speak, as a nation.
“The children of Israel went on dry land in the midst of the sea, and the water was to them like a wall from their right and from their left.” – Exodus 14:29, JPS 1917 Tanach
Passing through the Sea of Reeds, B’nei Yisrael (the Children of Israel) walked along a corridor created by a wall of water on their left and their right. The path towards the other side of the sea, where a safe haven could be found, was their road to freedom; in a sense, this is also, figuratively speaking, the path presented to us. Our walk with G-d compels us not to deviate to the left, nor to the right, thus permitting only a small margin of error as we journey along the path of life.
The road towards freedom, where we are able to transcend the limited constructs of our worldly existence, requires an effort to leave behind our personal Mitzraim (Egypt), by moving past our limitations in life to greater freedom. For, the shoresh (root word) of mitzraim means “limitations.” Therefore, we may apply this idea to our own weaknesses, negative character traits, and maladaptive behavior that limit our service to G-d, as well as our own personal development in life.
The truth is that our greatest limitations are often brought to our attention, for the most part, when we encounter the various nisyanos (trials) that the yetzer hara (evil inclination) elicits in our everyday lives. Yet, we should not give heed to these machinations on the part of our yetzer hara; rather, it is better to walk the narrow road to freedom, by not deviating towards the right or the left. Moreover, learning how to improve our character; for this will compel us to move beyond our limitations.
In like manner as B’nei Yisrael, the road to freedom is straight and narrow, and more challenging to walk upon, than when we give in to our “lesser selves,” by cruising through life on autopilot; yet, when we follow our “G-d given conscience” by doing what is right, we may excel even beyond our current level of connection to G-d; subsequently, there will be an increase in the positive effect of our choices, resulting in the elevation of our character to a greater degree than was previously known.
“And the woman conceived, and bore a son; and when she saw that he was a goodly child, she hid him three months.” – Exodus 2:2
Enslaved, at the bottom of the pyramid of the social structure, and strangers in a land that is not their own (Genesis 15:13). The words of Joseph, pekod pekodti – G-d will surely remember you – drifted across the generations, in the hearts of young and old. The redeemer, foretold, who would free the captives, and bring them to a land of milk and honey. And, he, himself, is born a slave, like unto his brethren, so that from this lowly start, he may serve as interlocutor between G-d and man (Exodus 20:19, Deut. 5:5, Psalm 106:23).
Thus, he enters the world at a time of darkness, when the ruler seeks to prevent his birth. For, Pharaoh had been told by his prognosticators, that a redeemer would be born. Pharaoh makes a drastic attempt to prevent the redeemer from fulfilling his role, by making a decree against all male infant children. Yet, the infant Moses, through divine guidance, is spared from this decree in a remarkable way.
“And when she could no longer hide him, she took for him an ark made of reeds, and smeared it with tar and pitch, and put the child inside the ark; she placed the ark in the river, near the bank, within a clump of reeds.”
– Exodus 2:3
Pharaoh’s daughter, who traditionally is named Batya, found the babe, had compassion towards the Hebrew child and raised him as her own son in the palace. Moses grew up cognizant of his heritage as a Hebrew, because he was nursed by his natural birth mother. Moreover, this awareness remained with him, in terms of having a clear sense of his own identity as a Hebrew.
And, so, he went out amongst his brethren one day, in his adult years, he sympathized with their persecution. He fled Egypt, because he attempted to foment a rebellion of the Hebrew slaves against Pharaoh. In Midian, he married, and herded sheep for his father-in-law; until one day, he saw something very surprising – a vision of sorts. A bush in flames; yet, the bush was not consumed. An angel appeared to him in the bush; and, G-d spoke to him.
Moshe received his mission from G-d, to serve as the redeemer of his people, the children of Israel. Yet, Moshe, the humblest man alive at the time, as recorded later in Torah, hesitated to take the mission. The L-RD assured him that his older brother Aaron would help him along the way with the mission; and, so, he set out riding on a donkey to Egypt, where his brethren were still enslaved.
“And Aaron spoke all the words which H’Shem had spoken unto Moses, and did the signs in the sight of the people. And the people believed; and when they heard that the L-RD had remembered the children of Israel, and that He had seen their affliction, then they bowed their heads and worshipped” (Exodus 4:30-31, JPS 1917 Tanach).
holy scribbles 