Showing posts with label Shemot. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shemot. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 19, 2022

Pesah: Seeing the Light


Listen to this morning's class on Pesah, "Seeing the Light," here.


Follow along with the sources here.

Wednesday, March 31, 2021

Yessiat Misrayim - Continuing the Partnership

 

Listen to this morning's class, "Yessiat Misrayim - Cotinuing the Partnership," here.


Follow along with the sources here.

Friday, March 26, 2021

Yessiat Misrayim - The Return to Origins

 


Listen to this morning's class, "Yessiat Misrayim - The Return to Origins," here.


Follow along with the sources here.

Tuesday, January 14, 2020

Parashot Shemot/VaEra: De Javu...All Over Again


Listen to last night's class on Parashot Shemot/VaEra, "De Javu...All Over Again," here.

Follow along with the sources here.

Friday, December 28, 2018

Parashat Shemot: Horizontal Thought

Horizontal Thought
Thoughts on Shemot 2018
Click here to view as PDF
The Torah’s description of Am Yisrael’s slavery in Egypt bears several striking similarities to the earlier episode of Migdal Bavel. Whereas the people of “all of earth” had once come together to construct a “city and a tower with its top in the heavens” with mortar and bricks (Bereshit 11:1-4), Am Yisrael were now forced to use mortar and bricks to build store-cities (Shemot 1:10-14). And similar to the motive of that initial construction to “make a name” amidst the fear of becoming “scattered over all the earth,” Pharaoh – “King Rameses” now feared that Am Yisrael would “go up from the land” and thus commissioned the building of “Rameses,” a city that bore his name.[1] What is the underlying message of these parallels?

Consider, in this context, the Torah’s very next narrative in Sefer Bereshit: the life of Avraham. God’s first words to him of “Lekh lekha – go forth” (Bereshit 12:1) contrasted to the anticipated settling of Bavel’s city-construction. And whereas the people of Bavel had futilely pursued a “name” with their stable city, God then promised Avraham “a great name” (12:2) by means of his movement.[2]

We possess the ability, as individuals and a society, to grow in two different directions: vertically and horizontally. Growing upwards means strengthening preexisting foundations by continuing along the path that was already begun. Growing sideways, in contrast, means chasing your thoughts or dreams into the precarious realm of the undiscovered. The “builders of Bavel” had singularly focused their growth on a vertical trajectory. They feared the instability of venturing out sideways, and so they built up on steady foundations. Avraham’s growth was differently focused, however, as he followed God’s word to spread out and grow horizontally. By doing so, Avraham endeavored into the realm of the unknown and sought growth along the uncharted paths that loomed at his sides.

The verdict is still out regarding the essential role of the Internet to our intellectual growth. There is no doubt that we have grown by the unprecedented ease of access to information that it has brought. The question remains, however, whether our continued intellectual growth as its result points horizontally or vertically.

Describing the way that the Internet changed his mode of thinking, Nicholas Carr wrote: “Once I was a scuba diver in the sea of words. Now I zip along the surface like a guy on a Jet Ski.”[3] He explained that a well-rounded mind requires both an ability to find and quickly parse a wide range of information and a capacity for open-ended reflection.[4] Carr therefore bemoaned our increased tendency to superficially skim information as a result of Google’s immediate search result, and yearned for the “deep, prolonged engagement with a single argument, idea or narrative” which he had once enjoyed.[5]

Tom Nichols similarly suggested that the art of “research” has been lost to people’s “search for pretty pages online to provide answers they like with the least amount of effort and in the shortest time.”[6] Citing studies which found that people don’t actually read the articles from a search on the Internet, but rather glance at the top line of the first few sentences and then move on, Nichols reflected: “This is actually the opposite of reading, aimed not so much at learning but at winning arguments or confirming a preexisting belief.”[7]

Living in a world that is increasingly governed by Google searches, our thoughts have become vertical. We busy ourselves with building higher and higher in our collection of data. The skill of horizontal thinking, however, is at risk of extinction. We are slowly forgetting the art of creative and in-depth thinking.

The Torah’s parallel descriptions of Am Yisrael’s slavery in Egypt and the episode of Migdal Bavel teaches about the shortcomings of a society stuck in vertical growth. Although Am Yisrael proliferated in Egypt – “And Bnei Yisrael were fruitful and swarmed and multiplied and grew very fast, and the land was filled with them” (Shemot 1:7), their growth was stunted by an inability to move outward. They were trapped in a land of vertical growth and the only way out was redemption.

Although distant from a life of physical servitude, today’s intellectual environment also suffers from the difficulty of horizontal growth constraints. Paving our own path to redemption, we must seek return to a world of imaginative thought and discovery. Embracing our generation’s unique tools for vertical growth, we must focus our minds upon the path of horizontal growth.


[1] For a further analysis of the similarities between these two episodes, see Judy Klitsner’s Subversive Sequels in the Bible (New Milford, CT, 2011), pg. 31-62.
[2] Recall our lengthy discussion of this in our message for Lekh Lekha, “Movement.”
[3] Nicholas Carr, “Is Google Making Us Stupid? What the Internet is Doing to Our Brains,” The Atlantic July/August 2008.
[4] Nicholas Carr, The Shallows: What the Internet is Doing to Our Brains (New York, NY, 2010), pg. 168.
[5] Ibid., pg. 156.
[6] Tom Nichols, The Death of Expertise: The Campaign Against Established Knowledge and Why it Matters (New York, NY, 2017), pg. 111.
[7] Ibid., pg. 120.

Monday, December 24, 2018

Parashat Shemot: Signs and Wonders


Listen to tonight's class on Parashat Shemot, "Signs and Wonders," here.

Follow along with the sources here.

Tuesday, January 9, 2018

Parashot Shemot-VaEra: Who's Taking Bnei Yisrael Out of Egypt?


Listen to last night's class, "Who's Taking Bnei Yisrael Out of Egypt?" here.

Follow along with the source here.

Friday, January 5, 2018

Parashat Shemot: Speech

Speech
A Message for Parashat Shemot 2018
Click here to view as PDF


The story of yessiat Misrayim is structured around Moshe’s constant conversations with Pharaoh. Time and again he approached Pharaoh with the fruitless demand of freedom for Am Yisrael. Why did he do so? Whereas the Torah made clear that the purpose of the plagues was to punish the Egyptians and show God’s might, the importance of Moshe’s repeated encounters with Pharaoh was never explained. What role did his many discussions with Pharaoh play in the grand scheme of yessiat Misrayim?

Let us first take note of a surprising reality that is reflected in the Torah’s description of Am Yisrael at the beginning of Parashat Shemot:

…And Bnei Yisrael groaned from the bondage and cried out, and their plea from the bondage went up to God. And God heard their moaning. (Shemot 2:23-4)

Am Yisrael employed a strange means of expression at that time. Instead of talking, they groaned, cried out, and moaned. The hard work of slavery had seemingly paralyzed their human ability to speak.

Indeed, the kabbalists describe the nation’s spiritual status at that time as one of galut ha-dibur – “exiled speech.” R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik z”l explained this reality as a direct effect of Am Yisrael’s servitude. He wrote:
The slave lives in silence…He has no message to deliver. In contrast with a slave, the free man bears a message, has a good deal to tell, and is eager to convey his life story to anyone who cares to listen.
R. Soloveitchik furthermore explained that the Torah’s repeated obligation to tell the story of yessiat Misrayim to our children comes in direct contrast to our slavery. It is the proof of our freedom.[1]

Moshe’s many conversations with Pharaoh, then, were stark representations of Am Yisrael’s freedom. His ability to bring forth a voice, to speak about a future and to vocalize his wishes were the fundamental signs of Am Yisrael’s liberation. Moshe was able to accomplish a task that had until then been impossible for the nation of slaves: speak.

Although it has been several thousand years since our slavery in Egypt, many of us still live in the sad state of spiritual slavery. We do not speak. Driven by fear or self-doubt, we never express our true hopes, beliefs or ambitions. By structuring the story of our national redemption around Moshe’s countless speeches to Pharaoh, the Torah urges each of us to find our voice – and sound it.

Shabbat shalom!

Rabbi Avi Harari


[1] R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik, “Redemption, Prayer, Talmud Torah,” in Confrontation and Other Essays (New Milford, CT, 2015), pg. 65.

Monday, January 1, 2018

Parashat Shemot: Was Moshe Ever Supposed to Bring the People into Israel?


Listen to this evening's class, "Was Moshe Ever Supposed to Bring the People into Israel?" here. Follow along with the sources here.

Sunday, December 31, 2017

Parashat Shemot: Loneliness

Loneliness
A Message for Parashat Shemot 2017
Click here to view as PDF


And God saw that he had turned aside to see, and Hashem called to him from the midst of the bush and said “Moshe, Moshe!” And he said, “Here I am.” (Shemot 3:4)

…And God’s messenger called out to him from the heavens and said, “Avraham, Avraham!” And he said, “Here I am.” (Bereshit 22:11)

Moshe’s first encounters with God bear several striking parallels to Avraham’s experience at the Akedah. The way in which God first addressed the individuals and how they responded is identical. Each underwent fateful moments on identified mountains – Har HaMoriah by Avraham and Har Horev by Moshe. Both missions centered around the destiny of a “unique son” –  Avraham’s Yitzhak, and God’s “My son, my firs-born, Israel” (4:22). And both Avraham and Moshe experienced the near murder of their son – Avraham by his knife-wielding hand, and Moshe by God, who “sought to put him to death” on his way at a night camp (4:25).

Most important among these parallel narratives, however, is the immediate aftermath of the individual’s adherence to the command of God.

Avraham’s ascent to Har HaMoriah progressed as a joint mission with his son, the verses twice stating “And the two of them went together” (Bereshit 22:6,8), but his retreat from the mountain was alone – “Avraham returned to his young men, and they stood up and went together to Beer Sheva” (22:19). Avraham experienced the tragic irony of reaching the height of his relationship with God at the very moment his connection to his son was diminished.

Moshe’s mission began with the support of others, as well. Following an emotional embrace with Aharon, the brothers addressed the elders of the nation who “believed and heeded” (Shemot 4:31). The two then addressed Pharaoh, as commanded by God, but were met by an angry group from the nation upon their departure. The group shouted at them, “Let God look upon you and judge, for you have made us repugnant in the eyes of Pharaoh and in the eyes of his servants” (5:21). It was then that Moshe came to know the lonely existence of an eved Hashem. It was a state-of-being first endured by his great-grandfather Avraham, several hundred years before.

The person who finds God is homeless, fatherless, and childless – not biologically but spiritually. He is related neither to his parent nor to his child; he has to give up and disengage. (R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik)[1]

The similar stories of Avraham and Moshe are the sobering paradigms of true commitment to God. The life of an eved Hashem necessarily entails difficult moments of loneliness. As we strive to become genuine servants of God, we must be prepared to summon our courage and strength during those moments of separation, when choosing His word over that of society.