Rabbi Yochanan Zweig
“And these are the names of the Children of Israel...” (1:1)
The name given to both the new Sefer and Parsha is “Shemos” – “The Book of Names”. Aside from the introductory verse which recalls the names of the twelve tribes, one is struck by the lack of names in this week’s parsha; the midwives are not identified by their real names, Amram is referred to as “a man from the house of Levi”, Yocheved is referred to as the daughter of Levi, Moshe is referred to as the “boy” or “youth”, Miriam as “his sister” and Bisya as the daughter of Pharaoh. Why does there appear to be a concerted effort to conceal the identities of the characters in this week’s parsha?
Rashi cites the Talmud as saying that Yocheved was one hundred thirty years old when giving birth to Moshe. The Ibn Ezra is perplexed as to why the Torah should highlight the miraculous nature of Sarah giving birth to Yitzchak at the age of ninety, yet make no mention of Yocheved giving birth to Moshe at the age of one hundred thirty.
When she descended to the river to bathe, Bisya, the daughter of Pharaoh saw the basket containing Moshe floating among the reeds of the Nile. According to the Talmud, she extended her arm toward the basket which lay far out of her reach. Bisya’s arm miraculously became elongated so that she was able to reach the basket. If the basket was far from her reach, what could have motivated Bisya to stretch forth her arm? Surely she could not have expected her arm to extend miraculously.
Parshas Shemos tells of the heroism of Shifra and Pu’a – Benei Yisrael’s midwives who defied Pharaoh’s command to kill every newborn boy. In reward for their courageous decision to keep the boys alive, the Torah tells, ויעש להם בתים– God “made homes for them” (1:21).
Rashi, based on the Gemara in Maseches Sota, explains the word בתים (“homes”) in this pasuk as a reference to dynasties. These women were Yocheved and Miriam – Moshe’s mother and sister – and the dynasties of the kehuna, leviya, and kingship descended from them. Yocheved was Levi’s daughter, and thus the kohanim and Leviyim descended from her, while the royal line of David Ha’melech descended from Miriam. Why was this the reward for the midwives’ heroism? God normally rewards מידה כנגד מידה, in a manner that resembles the deed that was performed. Why was the midwives’ refusal to kill the infants rewarded specifically with the dynasties of leadership?
Rav Yosef Sorotzkin, in Megged Yosef, answers this question by noting the previous pasuk: “God brought goodness upon the midwives; the nation multiplied and became exceedingly numerous.” The Torah seems to interrupt the story of God’s reward to the midwives by telling us of the nation’s continued rapid population growth. Rav Sorotzkin explains that the phrase implies that this was the midwives’ greatest reward – seeing Bnei Yisrael’s sustained growth. Their sole concern was the wellbeing of their people; they were not interested at all in any sort of personal reward. The satisfaction of seeing that the nation multiplied and became exceedingly numerous, that Benei Yisrael continued growing, with more and more healthy babies being born, provided them with more joy and satisfaction than any reward could have possibly provided.
When Hashem saw the midwives’ selflessness, how their display of courage and self-sacrifice was intended solely for the benefit of the nation, without any ulterior motives, and without any desire for fame or recognition, ויעש להם בתים – He decided that the nation’s leadership would descend from these women.
The most important quality of a leader is sincerity, a genuine devotion to the people, without any interest in “kickbacks” or prestige. A true leader feels rewarded by seeing his success, by witnessing the benefit he brings to the people under his charge. He does not need any feedback, praise, compliments or public recognition. And so Hashem wanted the leadership of Bnei Yisrael to emerge from Shifra and Pu’a, the two women who wanted nothing in return for their self-sacrifice other than the joy of seeing the fruits of their labor.
There are many “thankless jobs” that involve a great deal of work, and tend to invite complaints and criticism, instead of compliments and praise. Personally, in my experience, I am privileged to receive warm, positive feedback for my efforts, but many rabbis do not. The role of gabbai in shul is notorious for its thanklessness; the gabbai puts in time and effort to ensure that everything runs smoothly, but receives only complaints when he forgot to give someone aliya, without ever receiving a compliment. When one chooses to serve in any sort of leadership position, he must go into it expecting nothing in return. These roles demand an attitude like Shifra’s and Pu’a’s – seeing the success of one’s work as enough of a reward, such that no fame or recognition is needed.
