Parshat Va'era: Why was Pharaoh Punished?

While sitting at our Pesach Seder reading through the story of the ten plagues, we confront a difficult question: Why was Pharaoh punished for not letting the Jews go? After all, we find by numerous plagues that Hashem hardened the heart of Pharaoh, effectively removing his free will. So then why was he punished?

The Ramban suggests a novel idea; Pharaoh’s initial acts of killing Jewish babies was so bad that his ability to do teshuvah was removed. Without the ability to do teshuvah, he was judged and punished on his initial acts of killing the babies and in actuality he was NOT punished for anything he did after Hashem hardened his heart.

What does this mean? He was punished for his original actions?

Rabbi Andi Yudin, a dear friend of mine, recently told me this: it is quoted in the name of Rav Yisrael Salanter that when it comes to mizvot, we know there is a principle of לפום צערא עגרא. The more effort you put into a mitzvah, the more reward you shall receive. When you do a mitzvah that seems simple or easy, you are rewarded as if you did a challenging mitzvah. For example, at first davening every day with a minyan may seem challenging, but one who commits himself to it will get used to it, eventually it becoming second nature. Rav Yisroel Salanter states that you still get rewarded as if it was still hard for you to perform. Essentially, you earned the fact that it has become easy by doing it over and over.

The same is true about aveirot. In the beginning it is not so challenging to overcome a sin and correct your ways. But, as you get used to performing aveirot it becomes harder to stop doing them. So how does Hashem view us and choose to punish us? Since at the beginning it was easier to stop, I am punished for things as it were in the beginning, since I could have stopped them from reoccurring.

For Pharaoh, included in his end game was his beginning game. Since he committed terrible aveirot in the beginning, he was punished for his original aveirot; he could not be punished for his later actions which were done without free will.

There is a powerful message for all of us here. Some mitzvot are harder for us than others. The effort you make in the beginning allows you to continue to be rewarded later on, even if it gets easier to do that mitzvah. So Lefum Tzara Agra goes both ways. Pharaoh was punished at the end for what his actions were in the beginning, when he should have stopped, but he was not punished for his later actions after Hashem removed his free will.

Let us all remember that unlike Pharaoh, we have free will to choose good and to keep the Torah and Mitzvot. We will be rewarded for our efforts, even after mitzvot become easier to perform!

Parshat Shemot: Does It Really Matter Where We Live?

Sefer Shemot begins repeating the names of בני ישראל and then says יוסף היה במצרים, “Yosef was in Egypt.” We all just finished sefer Beraishit last week -, it’s been a while that Yosef was in Egypt already, so why does the Torah feel the need to again tell us he was there?

I use the context of the Avot and their personal struggles to reflect upon some different hashkafot existing in Orthodoxy today. It goes without saying that our Avot were on a high spiritual level we cannot fathom, but yet the Torah describes their struggles for us to learn from. Avraham struggled with two competing sons, specifically with Yishmael and who he would become. Yitzchak dealt with the rift between Eisov and Yaakov and they each struggled with that relationship, regardless of what Yitzchak fully understood was going on. Yaakov dealt with 12 sons, 10 of which had a real struggle with Yosef. Regardless of how we understand their justification for selling Yosef, they had to deal with a father who expressed more love for one sibling. Despite all of this, everyone after Avraham was raised in a Jewish environment, in some sense a sheltered shtetl in an attempt to infuse only Torah philosophies. In fact, the Torah says this almost explicitly when it describes Yaakov having heard Yosef is alive. He sends Yehudah ahead to Egypt to settle in the city of Goshen, where they could be in their own environment, away from the impurity of Egypt proper. The bottom line?  Avot seemed to prefer a sheltered community to a more mixed or diverse one.

Yosef, although he grew up in a sheltered environment, after being sold and sent to Egypt, spent most of his years in a land of impurity. And yet, he grew into the gadol that the king of Egpyt relied on to run the country, he withstood the temptation of the wife of Potifar, and essentially lived in Egyptian society without compromising on his avodat Hashem at all. Perhaps that is why the Torah emphasises where Yosef lived. In Egypt, where the sides were stacked against him, unable to live a true Torah Torah lifestyle,  he rose to the occasion and did not let that waiver from what he knew to be true and right at all. Moreover, he produced אפרים ומנשה, who seemed to have a much more peaceful relationship than their uncles, great-uncles and great-great-uncles. Isn’t it interesting, that this was the case despite them being the first to grow up in a totally non-Jewish environment? Perhaps this is why the tradition for thousands of years has been that on Friday night we bless our sons that they should be like אפרים ומנשה, not only to live a peaceful life, but to be strong in your conviction to Torah and Mitzvot, regardless of what the world around you is promoting and endorsing.

We live in a Jewish world that continues to polarize. Unfortunately, the intermarriage rate continues to rise and the non-orthodox world continues to dwindle; in some cities a little faster, in others a little slower, but the numbers are declining consistently. In the Orthodox world, the right wing charedi community continues to grow at strong levels; this world seems to promote more of the “fully” sheltered environment with a complete focus on Torah and mitzvot and not much of an emphasis on contributing to the  world around us, to general education and professionalism. Even in the once called Modern Orthodox community, its own polarization is occurring - more and more people who want to call themselves modern orthodox, but in practice seem to be more ‘modern’ than they are orthodox. For many this term and community has turned more into a social structure for a community, than a description of philosophy towards Torah and mitzvot.

It would seem to me that if we looked to Yosef for chinuch advice, much of the Jewish world would not be following his modale. I suppose the Chareidi approach has its value, but more so if they really live in seclusion, without interacting with the general world. But if they are to live and make a living in the world at large, there may be a few areas that need improvement in their approach. If we look to the non-Orthodox world that is devoid of complete commitment to Torah and Mitzvot, perhaps we can understand why their numbers are dwindling and why their youth are less interested. If we look at the “Modern” or “Centrist” Orthodox community, I believe we need to look at  the Orthodoxy as being equally as important as the Modern. The original philosophy of Rav Soloveitchik and Rav Hirsch, although different, both understood the need of the modern Jew to live and interact in the world around them. They understood the need and value that general education has to allow us to become professionals and to deepen our appreciation for Hashem’s world. They understood that our reality was like אפרים ומנשה; that we would grow up in a secular world and despite the growth of Torah learning, increased number of shuls and Jewish Day Schools, there is a balance that has to be struck to live truly both modern and orthodox.

I do not espouse to have the answers to all of the Jewish communities challenges, but when it comes to this issue, I think back to a shiur I heard over twenty years ago on a cassette (for those of you who remember what those are) from Rabbi Mordechai Gifter, the Rosh Yeshiva of Telz Cleveland. Despite being from a more chareidi Yeshiva, Rav Gifter’s upbringing allowed him to understand the full gamut of the Jewish world;  he suggested that we stop using descriptors to Orthodox, and he prefered that we all aspire to be “Torah Jews.” He understood there are going to be philosophical differences in the Jewish spectrum, but the most important thing is are we Torah Jews. Is the Torah the main motivator in how live our lives? Is the Torah the main decider of how we practice and how we act? Perhaps this was the strength of Yosef and why the Torah emphasises in this week’s parsha that he was in Egypt. Despite being in Egypt, he was a Torah Jew and he was always sure to make Torah the motivator behind everything he did.

Parshat Vayechi: A Message for Life from Sefer Beraishit: Challenges Leads to Growth

As we conclude the book of Bereishit, I am struck by one reality: most of our Avot and Imahot did not have easy lives. They each had struggles and challenges, including family feuds and waiting many years for children. There is a famous Medrashic comment which states that our Imahot had to wait many years to have children because Hashem desired their tefillot. One common message we can take away from this is that Hashem wants us to daven; he wants us to develop a relationship with him and this is so important that He gives us challenges in life to bring us to daven.

I had the fortune of spending last week in Israel, visiting my son who is learning in Yeshiva for the year. Like many people when traveling to Israel, we often go with some apprehension and concern for safety. I found myself experiencing extreme emotions about this. On the one hand, my wife and I felt  the new security measures - walls on the highways, etc., gave us a greater sense of security than we had on previous trips. However, our trip ended this past Sunday, being only 10 minutes away from the terrible terrorist attack in Armon Hanatziv. Before I even had the chance to feel fear for my son, wife or myself, I was struck by what I saw happening around me. Despite the sadness and grief over the horrendous attack, Israeli’s did not let it bring them down, nor did it let them feel despair; they did not let it dampen their spirit for our country. Israelis continued on with their lives, as they walked the streets, malls, markets, shuks and centres with genuine feelings of safety and security. There was also a feeling in the air -  an ‘energy’, if you will - that our lives are all in the hands of Hashem. Even the non-religious taxi driver commented many times on how Hashem takes care of us, and that the strength of our country comes from our rallying together after events like these; that horrific acts such as what transpired that day can only serve to bring us closer together as a nation and a people, and reaffirm our commitment to our country. And all I could think of was ‘my goodness, what unbelievable people, what unbelievable strength of character, what a remarkable sense of purpose they have’ - מי כעמך ישראל!

To come full circle, my experience this past week helped me understand the words of Chazal, mentioned above in a different light. It is not just the tefillot that Hashem wants from us, but it is our struggle, it is our commitment to His Torah and His land which ultimately defines the way we choose to live our lives. It is not about having an “easy” life. “Easy” doesn’t mean better. The easy way doesn’t cause you to grow. Of course we should never know from such horrible tragedies, but perhaps we shouldn’t hope for everything to be easy. Perhaps we should look for times of struggle and challenges; those are what make us into great people!