Shmooze News February 22, 2025
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Shabbos Mevarchim Chodesh Adar
Rosh Chodesh will be Friday and Shabbos.
The Molad for Adar will be on Thursday night {Feb 27}, 2 minutes after 7
For You Were Strangers in Egypt
One of the many mitzvos that we have in this week’s parashah is one that forbids the oppression of the ger. The Torah says, You shall not taunt or oppress a ger (stranger), for you were strangers in the land of Egypt (Shemos 22:20). What does the second half of the verse (you were strangers in the land of Egypt) have to do with the first half (You shall not taunt or oppress a ger)? In what way does our experience in Egypt serve as the background to this mitzvah?
The Rishonim offer different explanations. We will explore three approaches:
Rashi (ad loc.) explains that if you were to taunt this newcomer for being a stranger, he can do the same to you. For you too come from strangers, in that you are descended from those Israelites who were strangers in Egypt. In other words, “those who live in glass houses should not throw stones.”
Chinuch, though, has a different approach. According to him, the Torah here is telling us to tap into our collective national memory to recall the pain that we once went through, so that we will find within ourselves the appropriate compassion toward those now going through the same challenges. In this vein, Chinuch writes, “[With these words] the Torah reminds us that we have already been burned with the great anguish experienced by those who find themselves among strange people in a foreign land. By recalling the great heartache that this involves and remembering what we had experienced [while in Egypt], … our compassion will be aroused toward others in the same situation” (Sefer HaChinuch, Mitzvah 431).
Finally, Ramban suggests a totally different understanding of our verse. According to him, “for you were strangers in the land of Egypt” is not the explanation for why it is wrong to oppress the stranger. Rather it serves as the warning of its consequence! He explains by noting that the reason an oppressor of the stranger might think that he can get away with such behavior is because he thinks that the stranger is defenseless, lacking anyone to stand up for him. Hashem reminds such would-be-oppressors that there was a time that we too were oppressed strangers in a foreign land – Egypt. Hashem saw that oppression and carried out vengeance upon our tormentors, the Egyptians. Ramban paraphrases Hashem as saying, “I see the tears of the oppressed, who have no one to comfort them, and whose oppressors have all the power. I save every person from the hand of the one who is mightier than he, for I pity those who cry out to Me” (Ramban, Shemos 22:20).
May Hashem, indeed, hear the cries of the defenseless captives still trapped under the oppressive hands of our enemies, and carry out vengeance against those oppressors, speedily in our days.
Wishing you all a Shabbat Shalom / Good Shabbos.
Rabbi Moskovitz
Shmooze News February 15, 2025
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Moshe, Avraham, and the Angels
In this week’s Parashah, Moshe goes up to Shamayim to receive the Torah. However, our Sages note that Moshe’s presence there was not universally appreciated. There were ministering angels (Malachei Ha’Shareis) who were affronted by the prospect of the Torah being given to man. They argued that the Torah, which had been in heaven from time immemorial, should remain there among them and not be transferred to mankind (see Shabbos 88b).
The Midrash (Shemos Rabbah 28:1) states that at that time the ministering angels sought to attack Moshe. To protect Moshe from their fury, Hashem changed the features of Moshe’s face to mimic those of Avraham Avinu. Once Moshe appeared like Avraham, Hashem then turned to the angels and said, “are you not now embarrassed before him!?”
Why would they be embarrassed when looking at Avraham? According to one Midrash, by showing them Avaraham, Hashem was reminding the angels of what they had eaten centuries earlier in his home. The verse there says, [Avraham] took cream and milk and the calf which he had prepared and placed these before them…and they ate (Bereishis 18:8). Even during their short sojourn on earth, they did not do a very good job of keeping the Torah. They ate meat and milk which even a small Jewish school child would learn is not allowed! And now they felt a right to keep the Torah up with them?! They were embarrassed and therefore let Moshe take the Torah down from heaven (Midrash Tehillim/Shocher Tov §8).
However, there is another Midrash which gives a different version of the conversation between Hashem and the angels that led to their embarrassment. He said to them, “isn’t this the one to whom you went down [to earth] and partook of food in his home?!” He took you in and fed you! He opened his home and his heart to you! How then can you now be inhospitable to him!? And the angels agreed. Hashem then turned to Moshe – and by extension to each of us – and said, “You should know, לא נתנה לך תורה אלא בזכות אברהם, the Torah is only given to you in the merit of Avraham.”
Yes, it is certainly true that Moshe was the greatest prophet that ever lived; greater than Avraham Avinu. But the Torah was not given to Moshe in a vacuum. Maamad Har Sinai, the Revelation at Sinai, was not a new story. It was the next chapter in a much longer story. It was a continuation of what began back in Sefer Bereishis.
The chessed of Avraham and Sarah changed the world, not just in their generation, but for all generations to come. It continued to reverberate centuries later at the time of the giving of the Torah, for it was through their kindness that our angelic detractors were put to rest. And it is through that foundation of chessed upon which they built our nation that we ultimately merited to receive the Torah.
Wishing you all a Good Shabbos / Shabbat Shalom
Rabbi Moskovitz
Shmooze News February 8, 2025
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At One and The Same Time
In this week’s parashah we read about the miracle of the splitting of the sea. In its description of that miracle, the Torah says, The Children of Israel came within the sea on dry land; and the water was a wall for them, on their right and on their left (Shemos 14:22). The next number of pesukim then describe how the Egyptians followed us into the sea and ultimately drowned within it. The Torah then states again, The Children of Israel went on dry land in the midst of the sea; the water was a wall for them, on their right and on their left (ibid. v. 29). Why is this repeated?
Ibn Ezra (to v. 29) suggests that the Torah here is describing a “miracle within a miracle.” It is not that we passed through on dry land, and only after did our enemies drown within the sea. Rather, those two events were happening at one and the same time. That is why after the Torah discusses the Egyptians drowning, it restates that “the Children of Israel went on dry land…,” since we were still going through on dry land as they were drowning.
This simultaneous salvation and destruction can be seen in the medium used by Hashem for both. To save the Jewish people, Hashem sent “a blast from [His] nostrils” by which “the waters were heaped up” and “stood straight as a wall” (ibid. 15:8). This wind allowed us to walk through on dry land. And while that first wind was blowing to help us pass though, another was sent to do the very opposite for our foes. You blew with Your wind — the sea enshrouded them; the mighty sank like lead in water (ibid. v. 10).
While Hashem was lovingly helping his fledgling nation across the seabed, He was drowning our erstwhile enemies. Not sequentially, but simultaneously!
This same phenomenon seems to be expressed in the pasuk, Your right hand, Hashem, is glorified with strength; Your right hand, Hashem, smashes the enemy (ibid. 15:6). Rashi (ad loc) explains that unlike humans who cannot do two things simultaneously with one hand, Hashem’s right hand that is “glorified in strength” to save the Jewish people, is the same right hand by which He “smashes the enemy” – at one and the same time!
The right hand of Hashem is a reference to His chessed, His loving kindness. That same Divine trait of love and care which helped us comfortably pass through a raging sea, is the same trait that destroyed those who sought to harm us. With a wind He split the sea for us, and with a wind He made it come crashing down upon our enemies. Not as two separate acts coming from two different perspectives, but rather as one expression of His endless love for us, His beloved nation.
Wishing you all a Shabbat Shalom / Good Shabbos
Rabbi Moskovitz
Shmooze News February 1, 2025
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A Palpable Darkness and a Piercing Light
The ninth plague was that of Darkness. The Torah describes this plague by stating that: there was a thick darkness throughout the land of Egypt for a three-day period, no man could see his brother, nor could anyone rise from his place for a three-day period (Shemos 10:22-23). Ramban (ad loc.) writes that this darkness was not simply the lack of light, but that it had a thickness to it; one in which the light of a candle would not work.
In fact, our Sages note that the darkness got progressively stronger and more tangible. For the first three days, the Egyptians simply could not see one another, but for the last three, they could not rise from their place. Whatever position they were in is how they remained throughout those later three days (Rashi ad loc.). The Egyptians who enslaved and imprisoned the Jewish people for years, now got a taste of their own medicine (Midrash Tanchuma).
The Chiddushei HaRim suggests that the language of the above verses hints to an important ethical lesson. At first, the Torah notes that, “no man could see his brother.” That is, the wicked Egyptians were callous by nature, and as a rule willfully chose to look away from one another. And as the Chiddushei HaRim explains, the greatest form of darkness is being oblivious to the pain and suffering of one’s brother. By not extending a helping hand or opening an empathic heart, they not only averted their gaze, but brought a darkness upon themselves that compounded itself to the point where they themselves could not “rise from [their] place.”
The Torah contrasts the experience of the Egyptians with that of the Jews. It states, for all the Children of Israel there was light in their dwellings (Shemos 10:23). That is, even if they were in “their dwellings” – the homes of the Egyptians, there was light (Rashbam ad loc.). Not through a candle or the like – for a candle could not overcome that darkness (as noted above). Rather, the light that lit the way for the Jews was of a different quality, a different kind of light; one that came from Above (Midrash). It was a light that we know as the Or HaGanuz (the Hidden Light); the primordial light of creation that was hidden away for the righteous and kept off limits for the wicked (הש''ך על התורה). When the wicked Egyptians Jews. Such light provides not only illumination, but clarity and clairvoyance. It gives one the ability to see what normally cannot be seen, such as where the Egyptians hid their valuables (מעינה של תורה בשם האדמו''ר מקוצק).
Combining the above ideas, one could suggest that unlike the wicked Egyptians who “did not see their brothers,” and were therefore ensconced in darkness, the Jews had a different view. “For all the Children of Israel there was light,” for they did see to the needs of their brothers and sisters. In looking out for one another, they brought down a spiritual and holy light; one of righteousness that not only dispels darkness, but gives the greatest clarity of all.
Wishing you all a good Shabbos / Shabbat Shalom
Rabbi Moskovitz