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PEsach Perspectives By Rabbi Eli Gewirtz

One of the fascinating aspects of the Seder is its numerous inconsistencies. Yes, the inconsistencies: we wash netilat yadayim (the ritual washing of hands) for karpas, yet do not recite the netilat yadayim blessing; we comfortably recline in our seats and have others pour wine for us in keeping with the idea that we are to feel like royalty, yet we eat bitter herbs and a plain hard-boiled egg, foods usually associated with mourning.

While you deliberate about these, and other seeming incongruities, I’ll highlight another one that never fails to catch my attention: the joyous singing of the song “v’hi she’amda”. In this song, we proclaim that “It [i.e. the covenant made by G-d with our forefathers] is what has sustained us throughout the generations”. Indeed, knowing that G-d’s protective hand has been and always will be there for us, is reassuring. But the Haggada continues: Guess what? It’s not just a thing of the past. Our enemies too, will always be there – ready to pounce on us and wipe us off the face of the planet. How refreshing… let’s eat! (Good thing that we’re about to drink another cup of wine.) Is this really something to sing joyously about?

Rabbi Chanoch Ehrentreu, the author of the Kometz Hamincha, notes that the term “v’hi,” (“it”, in “it has sustained us”) refers not only to the sacred covenant between G-d and His people, but also to our past suffering; explaining that “it”, [our suffering] - has sustained the Jewish nation. Both in Egypt and beyond, whenever we were attacked as a nation, Jewish unity came to the surface. That unity, which is often only evident when we experience “it” (the suffering), is what has shielded us from the evil designs of our enemies. G-d smiles upon us when there is unity in our midst – even if we’ve fallen short on other aspects of our obligations to Him. This passage in the Haggada reassures us that even though our enemies will continue their attempts to break us apart, we will always remain unified.

With all the tragedies we experienced this year in Israel, from the incessant rocket fire on Sderot, to the lives of the eight precious yeshiva students who were cut down in their prime, it can be hard to approach the Pesach Seder with a joyous heart. The “v’hi she’amda” song however, places our suffering in perspective. Though we can never replenish our losses, we can take a measure of comfort and pride in the unity that emerged among Jews from across the Jewish landscape. Jews, no matter how they identify themselves, see other’s losses as their own. It is this special unity that will sustain us, and which gives us something to sing about.

Creating unity and community among Jews of all backgrounds is at the core of our mission at Partners in Torah. Through the learning and long-distance friendships that develop among Jews from around the world and from every walk of life, we’re bringing Jews together and spiritually enriching their lives. In only one hour a week, the bond and family ties that were forged at Mt. Sinai, are reinforced through the study of our heritage. You too can take part in this special endeavor by joining Partners in Torah today. Yes, it’ll be the most rewarding hour of your week. But more importantly, it’s a chance for us all to experience Jewish unity.

Isn’t it about time for us to enjoy the benefits of Jewish unity without the suffering.

Wishing you and your family a joyous Pesach,
Rabbi Eli Gewirtz

PEsach Perspectives By Ozer Alport

בני ראובן ... ובני שמעון ... ואלה שמות בני לוי לתלדתם גרשון וקהת ומררי

“The sons of Reuven … the sons of Shimon … These are the names of the sons of Levi in order of their birth: Gershon, Kehas, and Merari.” (6:14-16)

On Passover we celebrate Hashem’s redemption of the Jewish people from Egypt. Just as the story of the Exodus is about to begin (starting with the 10 plagues), the Torah first traces the ancestry of Moses and Aaron, Hashem’s agents in carrying out of the redemption. This family tree begins with Jacob’s eldest sons and progresses to the tribe of Levi, which produced Moses and Aaron. After listing the sons of Jacob’s two oldest sons, Reuven and Shimon, the Torah records, “And these are the names of the sons of Levi in order of their birth: Gershon, Kehas, and Merari.” Why does the Torah emphasize that it is stating the names of Levi’s sons, a point which isn’t mentioned with regards to the sons of Reuven and Shimon?

Rabbi Yeshaya Horowitz, known as the Shelah HaKadosh (1560-1630), answers based on Rashi’s comment (5:4) that the tribe of Levi wasn’t included in Pharaoh’s enslavement of the Jews and therefore lived relatively easy and comfortable lives. It certainly would have been easy for them to isolate themselves in Goshen, so engrossed in Torah study and spiritual pursuits that they did not take notice of the suffering of their fellow Jews.

In order to combat such natural feelings, Levi specifically gave his children names which would eternally remind them of the suffering of the rest of the Jews. The name Gershon (whose root means ‘foreigner’) alludes to the fact that the Jews were considered foreigners and temporary dwellers in Egypt, not fitting in regardless of how easy life may have been in Goshen. Kehas (whose root means ‘set one’s teeth on edge’) hints to the fact that the backbreaking labor set their teeth on edge, and Merari (whose root means ‘bitter’) refers to the bitterness of the Egyptian enslavement.

The following story presents a contemporary application of this teaching. The wife of the Chofetz Chaim, Rabbi Yisrael Meir Kagan (1838-1933), once panicked when she awoke in the middle of the night to find his bed empty. Upon finding him sleeping on the floor, he explained to his puzzled wife that with World War I raging all around them and Jews being chased from their houses all across Europe, how could he possibly allow himself the comfort of sleeping in a comfortable bed?

Similarly, when a great fire once ravaged most of the Jewish section of the town of Brisk, Rabbi Chaim Soloveitchik (the Rabbi of the town, whose house was spared) insisted on sleeping in the synagogue together with the rest of his homeless congregants in order to share in their suffering. These stories are not at all surprising, considering that Rabbi Kagan was a Kohen (Priest) and Rabbi Soloveitchik was a Levi, both descendants of the tribe of Levi,who clearly understood the lessons of their ancestors!

Seder Points Rabbi Elazar Meisels

1. What About The Kids?

“It is concerning four types of sons that the Torah speaks: one is wise and one is wicked, one is simple, and one who doesn’t know how to ask…” Haggadah Shel Pesach

By highlighting the four types of sons and the unique method of addressing each one, the Hagaddah seeks to teach us that the story of the Exodus is of such primary importance that every child must be taught its morals and lessons, each according to his unique nature. This message, of course, holds true for all matters of child- rearing, but it presumes that we are aware of the importance of educating our children in the first place. Sadly, this awareness is not as strong nowadays as it once was, and the effects of its absence are being seen throughout the Jewish world. Children often grow up with scarcely a smattering of knowledge and popular myths related to Judaism that hardly inspire deeper involvement with it. Relying on a free trip to Israel once that child has entered university to foment greater commitment is a foolhardy risk that rarely compensates for years of lost education. Strangely, Pharaoh was better aware of this reality than many Jews are. He was most agreeable to the idea of allowing the elders of the Jewish people to leave and serve G-d in the desert. It was the youth he insisted on holding on to, a decision that cost him dearly, as plague after plague decimated his country. The entire story of the Exodus is really all about one thing: the education of the children!

2. No Limits

“And there he [Israel] became a nation”

[Deuteronomy 10:22] – This teaches us that the Jews were distinctively different there [i.e. in Egypt]” Haggadah Shel Pesach. They distinguished themselves in Egypt by dressing differently than the populace, speaking in the Holy Tongue, using their Jewish names, and abstaining from sexual immorality. In this merit they were redeemed from Egypt. – Mechiltah (Rabbi Yishmael’s Halachic writing on the Book of Shemot)

The Story of the Exodus is the story of how Hashem determined that we were willing to dedicate our existence to subjugating ourselves to His will, and His subsequent decision to accept our offer and acquire us as His special nation. This exchange was completed through our unusual commitment to certain Jewish traditions even under great duress, and His willingness to suspend the laws of nature in order to rescue us from the clutches of the cruel Egyptians. We behaved in extraordinary fashion and thereby merited to be rescued in extraordinary fashion. Recounting these events each year at the Seder affirms our belief that the events of yesteryear were not one-time occurrences, but a prototype for all future generations. There is no limit to what Hashem will do on our behalf, so long as there’s no limit to what we’ll do on His.

3. Which Is Worse?

“And we cried out to Hashem, the G-d of our forefathers, and Hashem heard our voices and He saw our affliction, and our burden and our oppression.” [Deuteronomy 26:7] “Our burden” – this refers to the [murder of the] children as it is said, ‘Every boy that is born must be cast into the river, but every girl shall be allowed to live.’ [Exodus 1:22] - Haggadah Shel Pesach

If Pharaoh’s only intent was to kill the boys, why must he mention that every girl will be allowed to live? Wasn’t that self-evident? Apparently Pharaoh’s intent was far more devious than is apparent at first glance. His goal was not just to murder the boys and prevent a leader from arising from within their midst, but also to ensure that the Jewish girls would have no alternative but to marry the Egyptians and assimilate completely into Egyptian society. To their credit, as much as the Jewish parents feared losing their sons to this terrible decree, they also dreaded the thought of losing their daughters to the ravages of intermarriage. They recognized that whereas their sons were being sentenced to physical death, their daughters were being sentenced to spiritual death, and this thought was equally distasteful in their eyes. Their stubborn refusal to accept their dreadful fate compelled them to cry out to the Almighty to plead for deliverance and serves as a model for all generations in which Jewish mothers painfully agreed to send their children to die, rather than allow them to be raised as non-Jews.

4. Bitter-Sweet

“This Maror (Bitter Herbs) that we eat – why do we eat it? Because the Egyptians embittered the lives of our fathers in Egypt…” - Haggadah Shel Pesach

This symbol has never lost its strength for it has never been in short supply. Yet, tradition teaches us that just as the bitterness of the Egyptian exile gave way to the sweetness of the Mannah (Sustenance), the arrival of the Messiah will herald the end of the bitterness of our current exile and replace it with the sweetness of redemption and the freedom to serve Hashem fully.

5. Complete Redemption

“Just as we have been worthy of making the Seder this year, so may we merit performing it in the future.” - Haggadah Shel Pesach

Ramban (Nachmanides) in his introduction to the Book of Exodus makes the point that the redemption was incomplete until the building of the Mishkan [tabernacle], which made it possible for the Divine Presence to rest upon the Children of Israel. That is why this prayer which begs for the final redemption, asks that we be allowed to serve Hashem in the Beis HaMikdash [Holy Temple] with the offering of the Paschal Lamb, as this symbolizes the completion of the redemption.

6. Chad Gadya – Justice At Last

“There came the Holy One blessed is He, and slaughtered the Angel of Death who killed the slaughterer who slaughtered the ox that drank the water that put out the fire…” - Haggadah Shel Pesach

Although various opinions exist regarding the meaning of this song, one thing is certain; it is not simply a playful story for children, but a song laden with deep meaning. The Jewish people are compared to a lamb which is set upon by many enemies who devour each other in turn. Finally, the Almighty steps in and dispenses with all of them. This is the story of the eventual salvation of the Jewish people from the hands of their tormentors, none of whom will escape His wrath for their abuse of His children. Although as the centuries pass, it appears as if they’ve escaped unscathed for their indiscretions, we know that just as Egypt was ultimately laid to waste, our persecutors will eventually meet a similar fate at His hands. Anything less, would be a travesty of justice and a blot on His righteous nature!

Let us reflect upon the obligation to eat maror (bitter herbs) on Pesach night, and the lessons that can be learned from it.

The Torah requires that the pesach-offering be eaten together with both matzah and maror (see Shemos 12:8). Nowadays, in the absence of the Beis HaMikdash (Holy Temple), the pesach-offering cannot be brought and so the obligation to eat maror is Rabbinic (however, we do commemorate the combined eating of maror with matzah during the Seder ritual of koreich.)

Why do we eat maror? Rabban Gamliel tells us in the Haggadah that we do so to recall the fact that the Egyptians embittered the lives of our forefathers in Egypt, forcing them to perform crushing labor with mortar and bricks, and all manner of labor in the fields (see Shemos 1:14). However, as we have already discussed, the mitzvot of Pesach are more than symbols; they carry lessons for our lives. What lessons can we learn from maror?

One important lesson regarding Hashem's mercy may be gleaned by taking a closer look at the explanation offered by Rabban Gamliel. The maror commemorates the terrible suffering of the Jews, as detailed in the Torah. But what was the consequence of that suffering? It resulted in the Jewish people leaving Egypt after only 210 years, instead of being oppressed there for the full 400 years that Hashem had foretold to Abraham. Thus, the suffering was not pointless — it enabled the Jews to leave Egypt and become a nation almost two hundred years earlier.

This is an important lesson that we must apply to ourselves. Almost every life contains setbacks, disappointments, and frustrated plans. These are the maror that Hashem places in every person's personal "seder" of life; they are not random or coincidental occurrences, but Hashem's messages to us. It is imperative that we realize that they occur for our benefit, to lead us in the right path.

R' Moshe Feinstein often made the observation that while horseradish is possessed of much more bitterness than romaine lettuce, it is the romaine lettuce that is preferred for use as maror. He would explain that we are to understand from this that any bitterness that Hashem brings into our lives is intended only to awaken us to our shortcomings and to remind us to mend our ways and serve Him properly. The reminders need not be harsh (indeed, the Gemara in Arachin (16a) states that even pulling the wrong denomination of coin from one's pocket qualifies as yissurin, suffering), but they must be heeded. If they are ignored or explained away as happenstance, their severity must perforce be increased, so that they will be noticed. [Indeed, a common plaint of our times — why must so many tragedies and illnesses occur? — can, sadly, be answered with this simple fact. If we would take notice of lesser misfortunes and spur ourselves to change, the greater tragedies would not have to occur.] Thus, the most preferred maror is the least bitter — for if we receive the message with small hardships, we can spare ourselves greater travails in the future.

Maxwell? Not in Our House! Rabbi Elazar Meisels

Dear Rabbi,
We conduct a large Seder at our home each year, and the same question arises every year: Must we loyally follow the text of the Haggadah, or may we innovate in the recital of the miracles? My husband is of the opinion that we needn’t be smarter than the authors of the Haggadah and should stick to the original text. I maintain that it’s not a question of being smarter, but rather, I’d like to do so out of a desire to discuss the events in a more personal manner that resonate with us today. I know that it’s traditional to stick to the text and I’m prepared to do so if I must, but I’d love to know your opinion on the matter?
Thank you,
Debbie E.

Debbie,
As a rabbi, I couldn’t be happier about being asked to mediate this dispute between you and your husband, because it affords me a rare opportunity to side with both of you since you’re both right! There are differing opinions on the matter, so each of you can take comfort in knowing that a great Halachic (Jewish law) expert saw it as you did.

R’ Natrunai Gaon [Natronai bar Rav Hilai Abba Mari, leader of the Sura Academy c. 854-862] is quoted in Sefer HaManhig as saying that adherence to the text of the Haggadah is mandatory, and that any variation is akin to heresy, since it is based on the sacred words of the Mishnah and Talmud. Hence, one may not delete any part of the text, or replace it with other parts of the text, to accommodate their own personal preferences.

A very different viewpoint was expressed by Ritvah [Rabbi Yom Tov ibn Asevilli c. 1300] in his book titled Hilchos Seder HaHaggadah. He insists that ideally, one should discuss the aspects of the Exodus without a formal text, since the purpose of the discussion is to offer praise of Hashem, which is more intensely felt when expressed in spontaneous fashion. The text of our Haggadah, insists Ritvah, was only introduced for those who are ignorant of the Exodus and incapable of discussing it in an original manner. They may exempt their obligation by following the standardized text of the Haggadah. All others should seek to converse in as informal and genuine a manner as possible.

Raavad [Rabbi Avraham ben David of Provence, c.1125-1198] agreed with the opinion of Ritvah, and thus, it was his custom to expound upon a verse or two related to the Exodus prior to the recital of the Haggadah.

It is very important to note that even R’ Natrunai Gaon agrees that the Haggadah need not be recited in the original Hebrew, and should be recited in any language that the reader understands, so that its message is better internalized [quoted in Rit”z Ga’us, Chelek 2:102].

In practice, we seek to accommodate both opinions and therefore remain loyal to the original text, while not hesitating to probe it for additional insights and elucidations that lend inspiration and understanding. Thus, there is a tradition to spend some time in the days and weeks leading up to the Seder studying the Haggadah and the various commentaries so that one can discuss it in-depth, and with a degree of originality. This not only accommodates the opinion of Ritva and Raavad, but also adds depth to the conversation and keeps the focus on the Exodus, a subject all can agree upon, as opposed to current events and politics, which are rarely the subject of universal agreement.

There are many resources available to assist you in doing so, including a vast array of Haggadahs from Artscroll, the popular Judaica publisher [www.artscroll.com/pit20] that feature English translations, and approach the Exodus from a wide range of perspectives. They may cost a bit more than the version your Bubby picked up free in the grocery store with the Maxwell House coffee, but they’re well worth the investment in time and money.

Wishing you a joyous and kosher Passover!
Elazar Meisels

Submit your questions for publication consideration to questions@partnersintorah.org
Rabbi Meisels can be reached at rabbimeisels@partnersintorah.org

What’s In It For Me?! Rabbi Leiby Burnham

Dear Rabbi:
Soon, we will be sitting around our Seder tables drinking copious amounts of wine or grape juice and eating fragile matzos with a smattering of horseradish or lettuce. The highlight of the evening will undoubtedly be the dialogue of the Haggadah. But at some point after the karpas, afikomen and the 4 questions, many of us start to wonder when we’re going to get to that delicious pot roast whose aroma is tantalizing our senses. Underlying this thought is the bigger question "what does all this have to do with me?" Yes, it is great that our forefathers were taken out of slavery some 3,300 years and we should be thankful to G-d for that most magnanimous of acts. But how do I apply that to my life today, where the NBA and reality TV are definitely more interesting than ancient Egyptians?
Respectfully,
Sam G.

Dear Sam:
You may find it comforting to know that you are in very good company as your question was asked as soon as the Haggadah was written and the answer was included in the text in a few places. The first time "we" appears in the Haggadah is in the statement "had G-d not taken us out of Egypt then we, our children, and our children's children would still be slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt." Pharaoh is long gone and with him the entire ancient Egyptian civilization. How would we still be slaves to an entity that is nonexistent?

In order to understand this, let's look at another reference to “us” in the Haggadah. In what is often sung as a song, we make the following statement "ela sheb'chol dor vador omdim aleinu...." in every generation they rise up against us to destroy us, but Ha-shem saves us from their hands. Jews living in the West Bank with Katyusha rockets raining down on them, or those living in Iran, desperate to get out of a murderous regime, must certainly say these words with fervor. But what about us? What do we think of as we sit comfortably in our peaceful, suburban neighborhoods? Yes, we can think of them, but we lack the desperation they experience. How can we make this into something more real for us?

Let’s delve deeper into what Mitzrayim (Egypt) truly symbolized. Through that we can come to comprehend what the slavery represented, and hopefully we will discover a way to make the exodus meaningful for us. The Hebrew word Mitzrayim has the same letters as the word maitzarim which means boundaries or limitations. The Sages tell us that a slave never escaped Egypt. This was not because they had soldiers patrolling the entire border; rather the type of subjugation the slaves underwent went beyond the physical- it incorporated an element of psychological subjugation. The slave in Egypt couldn’t see any reality for himself other than his current state. He was stuck in the “borders” of limitation set up by the culture of Egypt, that told you that whoever you were was exactly who you would continue to be with no chance of change.

This mentality is antithetical to the Torah approach. We believe that one is given free will and always has the ability to elevate himself above his current limitations, to burst out from the “borders” of his current state. When G-d took us out of Egypt the exemption from physical bondage was a minor part of the exodus, the major component was the freeing of our minds, the gift of our newfound ability to see beyond our current state to our world of possibility.

This explains the perplexing statement, "had G-d not taken us out of Egypt then we, our children, and our children's children would still be slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt." It doesn’t mean that we would still be in Egypt serving a man named Pharaoh, rather, that we would still be trapped in the mind frame of Egyptian slaves, prisoners of a pattern which allows no room for growth or change.

With this new perception, we can understand that even in our generation, in our supposedly safe homes, we still have people rising up against us. The many who profess that a human is just a mechanism acting out whatever was solidified in his subconscious from ages 0-5, and that he can’t break out of it, the society that tells us that to sin is only natural and that it’s understandable because we can’t help ourselves. These people rise up against us because they limit our ability to grow and develop. These theories, so pervasive in our society, are the very ethos from which we were saved from at the exodus from Egypt.

In every generation, despite the fact that the popular notion may be one of reckless action, justified immorality and dishonesty, G-d takes us out of Egypt and gives us the Torah with its message of human ability. Its encouragement to transcend the shackles of our current state saves us from this danger of falling prey to these notions.

So, as you sit at your Seder this year, take a moment to step back and think about the fact that you are free to be as great as you dream of being. This is the timeless message of Pesach - redemption not just from physical subjugation, but emancipation from emotional, psychological and spiritual barriers.

Next Year in Jerusalem!
Rabbi Leiby Burnham

Rabbi Leiby Burnham can be reached at rabbiburnham@partnersintorah.org

For Discussion Around the Seder Table By: Ozer Alport

א)In the song אחד מי יודע – Who Knows One – which is sung at the end of the Seder, each number from 1 to 13 is associated with something which has a unique connection to the Jewish people (e.g. matriarchs, books of Torah, days until circumcision). The number 9, however, is used to refer to the nine months of a woman’s pregnancy, which is relevant to non-Jews as well. How is this concept distinctly connected to the Jews?

ב)Hashem was revealed to Moses while he was shepherding the sheep of his father-in-law Yisro (3:1). A disproportionate number of our greatest ancestors – Abel, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Saul, and David – were shepherds. Why is this profession uniquely suited for one destined for spiritual greatness? (Rabbeinu Bechaye)

ג)Why did Hashem tell Moses (3:22) to instruct the Jewish women to deceitfully ask their Egyptian neighbors for permission to “borrow” their fine vessels and garments when He knew that they wouldn’t be returning them, and why didn’t he command them to ask for the items as gifts? (Rabbeinu Bechaye)

ד) The Medrash teaches that if Aaron had known that the Torah would immortalize (4:14) the fact that he went out to greet his returning brother Moses, he would have exerted himself much more and would have gone out to greet Moses while dancing and playing musical instruments. Shouldn’t Aaron’s actions have been purely motivated based on his assessment of what was appropriate in the situation, and not based on the publicity he would receive or how other people would judge him? (Imrei Daas by Rabbi Meir Shapiro)

ה) The Mishnah (Pesachim 10:5) rules that a person is obligated to view himself as if he actually took part in the Exodus from Egypt (12:41). As we are thousands of years removed from the physical Exodus, how is it possible for a person to fulfill this seemingly impossible legal requirement? (Rabbi Elozar Shach quoted in Me’Rosh Amanah)

ו)Why would Hashem give so many mitzvos (see e.g. 13:9) all with the purpose of remembering the Exodus from Egypt? (Sefer HaChinuch Mitzvah 16)

ז) On the way out of Egypt, Hashem chose not to lead the Jewish people by way of the nearby land of the Philistines because He feared that when they would see a war there, they would get scared and return to Egypt (13:17). As scared as they may have been, why would they even want to consider returning to a land where they had been brutally enslaved, oppressed, and killed for more than two centuries? (Noam HaMussar by Rabbi Nosson Wachtfogel)

ח) The Talmud (Sotah 2a) teaches that shidduchim – matchmaking – is as difficult as splitting the Reed Sea. In what way are the two comparable? (Aruch L’Ner Sanhedrin 22a by Rabbi Yaakov Ettlinger)

ט) The Talmud (Megillah 10b) relates that when the Heavenly angels saw the punishment being meted out to the Egyptians at the Reed Sea, they desired to sing Hashem’s praises, but Hashem answered them, “My handiwork and creations are drowning and you wish to sing!?” Why weren’t the Jews forbidden to sing the Song of the Sea (15:1-19) for the same reason? (Taam V’Daas by Rabbi Moshe Shternbuch)

י)The Medrash teaches that one of the merits by which the Jews were redeemed from Egypt was that they preserved their customary modest dress and did not adopt the stylish fashions of the Egyptians. Why did Hashem tell Moses (3:22) to instruct the Jews that in addition to gold and silver vessels, they should also “borrow” the Egyptians’ clothing, and how could they wear these garments after generations of insulating themselves from such clothing? (Meged Yosef)

Hey, I never knew that! By Ozer Alport

Amazing Insights About the Holiday of passover

Q: Rashi writes (1:7) that the Jewish women in Egypt miraculously gave birth to six children at a time. From where can this amazing fact be derived?

A:Rabbi Zalman Sorotzkin, in his book Oznayim L’Torah, recounts that a cynical Jew once approached his father-in-law Rabbi Eliezer Gordon. He argued that although he did believe in whatever is explicitly written in the Torah, he could not, as a modern intellectual, be expected to believe in apparently exaggerated Medrashim, such as the miracle that all of the Jewish women in Egypt gave birth to six children at a time.

Without batting an eyelash, Rabbi Gordon answered him with a mathematical source for the Medrash’s claim. In Parshas Bamidbar, the Torah (which the man claimed to believe in) relates the results of the census conducted approximately one year after the Exodus from Egypt. The total number of first-born males was 22,273 (Numbers 3:43), which means that there were a total of 22,273 families. The total of all of the men between the ages of 20 and 60 produced by these families was 603,550 (Numbers 1:46), and doubling this to account for the men under 20 and over 60 yields a total of 1,207,100 men.

Dividing 1,207,100 by 22,273 yields an average family size of approximately 54! It takes a woman almost a year to conceive and give birth to a child, and it took them around 2 years after giving birth until they were able to conceive again. Since they nursed their babies for 2 years each child required roughly 3 years. A woman normally has 27-30 child-bearing years during her life, and if each child takes 3 years, she will be able to give birth a maximum of 9-10 times during her lifetime. Dividing the 54 children the average woman had by the roughly 9 times she gave birth yields a result of exactly 6 children per delivery, a confirmation of the Medrash which left the cynic speechless!

Q: What lesson about Divine Providence can be learned from the fact that Pharaoh’s daughter brought Moses, the future redeemer of the Jewish people, into his palace and raised him under Pharaoh’s very eyes (2:10)?

A: Pharaoh was warned by his astrologers that a redeemer would be born, but that his downfall would occur through water. Pharaoh therefore decreed that every male born must be thrown into the river (Rashi 1:22). What an incredible act of Divine Providence it was that Pharaoh’s very own daughter, Bisya, brought a strange boy into the palace to raise as her own.

The child’s name was Moses, which refers to the fact that he had been drawn out of the river. Yet Pharaoh never asked any questions, and it never once occurred to him to suspect the implications of the origins of this child. In fact, the Steipler Gaon (Rabbi Yaakov Yisrael Kanievsky) points out that it was precisely Pharaoh’s attempts to kill the future redeemer of the Jews which set in motion the chain of events that ultimately brought that very same savior into Pharaoh’s palace where he unwittingly raised him like a grandson.

Similarly, Joseph’s brothers were jealous of his dreams that they would one day bow down to him, and in an effort to foil his rise to power they schemed first to kill him and then to sell him into slavery. Unbeknownst to them, Hashem was pulling the strings behind the scenes, setting into effect a plan by which their very attempts to nullify Joseph’s dreams became the mechanism which ultimately led to their fulfillment. Man can plan and scheme all he likes, but if Hashem wills it otherwise, those who attempt to outwit the system will see their grandest plans backfire on them.

Q: Due to the intense suffering imposed by the plagues, Pharaoh was finally forced to relent and allow Moses to take the Jews to worship Hashem for three days. The problem was in the details. Moses insisted that not only the male adults but also the elderly, the children, and the females would go. Pharaoh responded that under no circumstances would he allow the children to go as the sacrifices were anyway to be brought by the adults (10:9-10). In his response, however, no mention is made of the women. Did Pharaoh agree to allow them to go, and what was his reasoning?

A: Rabbi Yaakov Dovid Wilovsky, known as the Radvaz, suggests that Pharaoh’s original refusal to allow the Jews to leave for three days was predicated on his fear that if they did so, they would become cleansed from the spiritual impurities they had absorbed during their time in the immoral Egypt. Therefore, even now that he was forced by the plagues to allow the Jews to go serve Hashem, he attempted to do so in a diabolical way which would prevent any permanent “damage” to his wicked plans.

Pharaoh knew that Judaism is heavily dependent on the concept of mesorah (transmitting our beliefs from one generation to the next). He therefore refused to allow the elders to lead them to the desert, and he also insisted that the children not be present in order to cut off a vital link in the educational process. Yet he was still concerned that the adult males would come back inspired and share their newfound enthusiasm with the others.

Wishing all our Partners and Friends a Joyous Passover. חג כשר ושמח