Miriam stood by at a distance because she had been prophesying and saying, ‘My mother is destined to have a son who will redeem Israel.” When Moshe was born, the house was filled with light, and her father kissed her on her head and said: “Your prophecy has been fulfilled.” When they cast Moshe into the Nile, her mother struck her on her head and said, “Where is your prophecy?” This is why she stood at a distance.
לְ דֵ עָ ה – To know the fate of her prophecy. When Batya then arrived, found the tevah, and opened it – what exactly did she see? We’re told:
וַ תִּ פְ תּ ַ ח וַ תִּ רְ אֵ הוּ אֶ ת ֶלֶ ד הַ י וְ הִ נֵּ ה נַעַ ר בּ ֹכֶה.
She opened it and saw the child, and behold a boy was crying. Rabbotai, was it a יֶלֶד or a נַעַר? Was it an infant child or a young boy? How could it be both that Pharoah’s daughter saw? The Gemara says: הוּא יֶלֶד וְקוֹלוֹ כְּנַעַר – He was the age of an infant child, but his voice is as loud as a young boy. Yalkut Shimoni provides another answer, however. Batya saw a young infant, but the cries she heard came from elsewhere. One opinion says it was an angel crying, and another opinion says it was Aharon who began crying. The Ba’al HaTurim also explains – based on the numerical value of נַעַר בּ ֹ כֶ ה being equal to אהרן הכהן – that the pasuk according to the latter opinion, indicating that it was not only sister Miriam present for the event but also brother Aharon. Paaneach Raza explains, it was due to Aharon’s cry that Batya determined the child to be from Bnei Yisrael, because Aharon, from the tribe of Levi, was dressed as a yid and not as a slave. She heard Aharon cry in fear and compassion for the baby’s fate and connected the dots that he must be the baby’s brother, and thus the baby must be Jewish.
Another explanation is provided by the Maharam Lublin, who says Moshe knew full well he’d survive and succeed in both mission and life. It was him who was crying, but not for himself. His cries were for those who did not survive! Upon seeing the lives of so many other baby boys taken (at the Nile) before they even had a chance to shine, he cried like an older person who grasped the gravity and pain of that loss.
We’ll now fast-forward, just as the pesukim do, to Moshe’s time in the house of Pharoah, where we’re told:
וַיְהִ י ָ מִ ים בּ ַ י הָ הֵ ם ִגְ דַּ ל וַי מֹשׁ ֶה ֵצֵא וַי אֶ ל־אֶ חָ יו ַ רְ א וַ י בְּסִבְלֹתָם ַ רְ א וַ י אִ י שׁ מִ צְ רִ י מַ כֶּ ה אִ י שׁ ־ ע ִ ב ְ רִ י מֵ אֶ חָ יו׃
It was in those days when Moshe grew up that he went out to his brethren, and he saw their burdens. One day, he saw an Egyptian beating one of his Hebrew brethren.
Chazal ask (Shemot Rabbah 1:27), was Moshe the only one who grew up? Was it strange that he grew up, to the point we need to be told this obvious fact? And was he not supposed to go outdoors? The pasuk is telling us Moshe grew up to indicate it was in an atypical manner, different than the rest of the world, and he stepped out twice. The first time, he witnessed an Egyptian beating a Jew, and the second time, he saw two Jews quarreling. R’ Avraham Yoffen, in HaMusar v'HaDat, asks why he had to leave the palace for this. He clearly knew his brethren were suffering, as every minister paraded in and out of the palace, reporting not only on the progress of pyramid construction, but on the state of the slaves. He knew full well what was taking place outside. After all, it was Moshe himself who obtained the Shabbat exemption on behalf of the workers – convincing Pharoah they’d be more productive if given one day each week to physically heal – so clearly, he was holding and could have stayed inside. Would it not have been more productive for him to stay there, to work on better terms and improved conditions? He went out and saw firsthand how they were battered from every direction, but he could have asked for the same reports and used his time more effectively. Chazal point out how instead of staying back, Moshe took off his royal garments, stepped out, and helped rearrange the loads on Bnei Yisrael’s backs so they were more manageable and tolerable. He cried out, “Woe is me over you; if only I could die for you!” He would shoulder the burden and help each and every one of them with their wounds and their load! Hakadosh Baruch Hu said to him, “You left your affairs and went to observe your brother’s suffering, and you treated them in a brotherly manner; I will leave the upper and lower worlds to speak with you.”
Rav Yoffen asks his question, wondering how many actual people he directly helped when stepping out. Was it just the few he encountered right away? Was it ten or twenty? Maybe it was a hundred or a few hundred? Let’s go wild and say it was two thousand! Do you know how many workers were out there in the fields? There were 600,000 men! Moshe couldn’t possibly have made the slightest of dents in those numbers. So why not play the macro game from within the palace? Each small concession gained there might positively impact 100,000 or even all 600,000! Rav Yoffen strengthens his question by looking at the second outing, where Moshe witnessed an Egyptian beating a Jew, and responded by killing him. Why did he need to kill him? He lived in the palace – could he not have walked back to his office, summoned the defense minister, handed over a note with this Egyptian perpetrator’s address, and then watched as the rasha was served a drone like al-Arour (yimach shemo) in Beirut a few days ago? He had all the controls, why did he need to dirty his hands? And if you answer that Moshe’s hands remained clean because he killed the Egyptian using Shem Hashem, then why not call over another yid, hand him a card to read from, and let him do the act while you stand far enough away not to be implicated? Look what happened as a result of Moshe initiating the killing – no more Moshe Rabbeinu! He was chased from the palace all the way to Midyan. Why did Moshe respond the way he did?
Rav Yoffen answers these questions poignantly. He says, Moshe, in truth, wanted to act in such a way. When we’re told ַרְ א כִּי אֵין אִישׁ ִפֶן כֹּה וָכֹה וַי וַי, it is because Moshe was looking around for someone who could execute the act for him. But he found nobody capable. And the reason he didn’t then take the matter back to the palace in order for it to be handled shortly thereafter by a drone or sniper, is because this was Moshe Rabbeinu! This was his nature! He could not see the suffering of another Jew! He was incapable of telling the Jew being stricken, “Don’t worry, I’m heading back to the palace and this guy on top of you will meet his maker real soon. Stay strong and hang in there just a bit longer.” This was not in his vernacular, and it was impossible for him to accept that he’d be back in the palace while his brother continued suffering. Moshe could not continue knowing he didn’t do everything to shoulder the load of his brother and eliminate his pain as much, and as fast, as possible.
More evidence of this can be found in the war against Amalek, when Moshe went up the mountain, stood tall and raised his arms until the battle was completely won. Who was this war waged against? We are told exactly who Amalek attacked:
זָכוֹר אֵת אֲשׁ ֶר־עָשָׂה לְך עֲמָלֵק בַּדֶּרֶ ך בְּצֵאתְכֶם מִמִּצְרָיִם׃ א ֲ שׁ ֶ ר ק ָ רְ ך כׇּל וַיְזַנֵּב בְּ ך בַּדֶּ רֶ ך הַ נֶּחֱ שׁ ָ לִים אַ חֲ רֶ יך וְ אַ תָּ ה עָיֵף וְ יָגֵעַ וְ לֹא יָרֵ א אֱ -ל ֹהִ ים׃
Remember what Amalek did to you on your journey, after you left Egypt – how, undeterred by fear of G-d, he surprised you on the march, when you were famished and weary, and cut down all the stragglers in your rear.
Amalek attacked הַ נֶּחֱ שׁ ָ לִ ים אַ חֲ רֶ יךכׇּל – all the stragglers in your rear. These were the people who the Ananei HaKavod spat out, not the elders or wise men. These were the eirev rav – all the rebel rousers and riffraff! The idol worshippers from shevet Dan who worshiped the idol snuck out from Egypt! The Cloud did not want these people within, and Amalek attacked them. And what did Moshe do? He waged war. Rav Chaim Zaichik asks why. Firstly, why for these people? Secondly, why not stay home and daven for the desired outcome? Why engage in a very difficult battle? He answers just like the previous answer. This was Moshe Rabbeinu’s character. He could not sit at home while his brethren were attacked. Regardless of who they were, it was not in the realm of possibilities for him to remain inside while a war was being waged outside. He needed to step out and experience the same risk and pain his brothers faced.
As Rashi says, Moshe Rabbeinu’s eyes and heart had to be right there with the suffering and distress of his people, and it was not enough to watch from afar or receive reports. He took off his royal clothing and stepped out to help. He helped shoulder the burden and carry the load for ten, or perhaps a hundred people, but he’d have done the same for one. Yes, that is what he had to do – whatever he could. His nature did not allow otherwise.
Rav Chaim Vital says, the reason Moshe Rabbeinu was chosen from the entire human race to be the one who brought Torah to Bnei Yisrael was because he shouldered the burden of his fellow – נוֹשֵׂא בְעֹל עִם חֲבֵרוֹ, one of the מ " ח קִ נְ יָ נֵ י תּ וֹ רָ ה, the 48 attributes necessary for attainting and maintaining mastery over Torah (Pirkei Avot 6:6).
Can it be that one particular trait of נוֹשֵׂא בְעֹל עִם חֲבֵרוֹ results in worthiness to deliver the Torah? Here’s another example that demonstrates an answer of yes. According to Rashi, what Moshe witnessed when he stepped out of the palace was an Egyptian taskmaster beating an officer from Bnei Yisrael who was responsible – and held accountable – for the work of ten Jews. The Jewish officers would be punished if their group did not produce a collective quota, yet the officers absorbed the punishment regardless of who in the group was responsible for the shortfall and did not point to any guilty party who underperformed. For this selfless act, they were rewarded with Ruach HaKodesh and they became leaders of Bnei Yisrael (Bamidbar 11:16):
ֹאמֶר ה' אֶל־מֹשׁ ֶה אֶסְפָה־לִי שִׁבְעִים אִישׁ מִזִּקְ נֵי יִשְׂרָ אֵל אֲשׁ ֶר יָדַעְתָּ כִּי־הֵם זִקְ נֵי הָעָם ו ְ שׁ ֹ טְ רָ י וְלָקַחְתָּ אֹתָם אֶל־אֹהֶל מוֹעֵד וְהִתְיַצְבוּ שׁ ָם עִמָּךּ
And G-d said to Moshe: Gather seventy men for Me, from the elders of Israel; men whom you know to be the elders of the people and its officers; and bring them to the Tent of Meeting, that they shall stand there with you.
These were the seventy worthy officers, who Moshe knew shouldered the burden of their fellows and absorbed their punishment. Moshe saw it, knew it, and made this group the first set of leaders who’d teach Torah to the people. The Midrash (Bamidbar Rabbah 15:20) wraps up its explanation with a bold declaration:
מִכָּאן אַתְּ לָמֵד שׁ ֶכָּל מִי שׁ ֶמּוֹסֵר עַצְמוֹ עַל יִשְׂרָ אֵל זוֹכֶה לְכָבוֹד וְלִגְדֻלָּה וּלְרוּחַ הַקֹּדֶשׁ , לְכָך כְּתִיב: אֲשׁ ֶר יָדַעְתָּ כִּי הֵם זִקְ נֵי הָעָם וְשׁ ֹטְרָיו, מִי הֵם, אוֹתָן שׁ ֶכָּתוּב בָּהֶן וַיֻכּוּ שׁ ֹטְרֵ י בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָ אֵל.
From here you learn that whoever hands himself over for the sake of Israel merits dignity, greatness and the holy spirit. It is therefore written, “whom you know to be elders and officers of the people.” From the ones of whom it is written, “And the officers of the Children of Israel whom the taskmasters of Pharaoh had set over them were beaten.”
Sefer L’Chai Ro’i brings a tremendous learning from Rav Moshe Shmuel Shapiro, rosh yeshiva of Be’er Yaacov. To become leaders is one thing, but to become the Sanhedrin, responsible for teaching Torah and upholding the laws of Torah, is totally different. It is understandable how this brave group of officers could mold into tribal – nesi’im, or even obtain Ruach HaKodesh, but how does their leadership in the work fields qualify them for the daunting tasks of the Sanhedrin that rely on knowledge and wisdom? The fact they could take a beating for their fellow yid certainly doesn’t indicate they know the entire Torah, so how can they make that leap? The answer is found in the Gemara (Menachot 53b):
יבא טוב ויקבל טוב מטוב לטובים , יבא טוב זה משה דכתיב ותרא אותו כי טוב הוא , ויקבל טוב זו תורה דכתיב כי לקח טוב נתתי לכם , מטוב זה הקב"ה דכתיב טוב ה' לכל, לטובים אלו ישראל דכתיב הטיבה ה' לטובים.
Let the good one come and receive the good from the Good for the good ones. Let the good one come; this good is Mosshe, as it is written about him: “And when she saw him that he was a goodly child”. And receive the good; this is Torah, as it is written: “For I give you a good doctrine; do not forsake my Torah”. From the Good; this is referring to Hakadosh Baruch Hu, as it is written: “The Lord is good to all”. For the good ones; these are the Jews, as it is written: “Do good, Lord, to the good ones”.
Torah is good and descends from those who are good to those who are good. One who is willing to bear the burden of their fellow and absorb punishment on their behalf, has such tools of good to receive Torah. Moshe Rabbeinu began this process based on his goodness of sharing in the burden of his brethren. The officers then continued the chain, based on the same character trait.
I would now like to come back to shevet Levi. The tribe of Levi, from their onset, unified to carry the burden of their peers. Chazal say, Levi gave his children names that each reflected this trait: Gershon – because Bnei Yisrael were foreigners (גרים) in a foreign land; Kehat – because their teeth became dull (קהותשיניהם) from the difficulties they endured; Merari – because their lives were bittered (ו ַ י ְ מָ רְ ר וּ אֶ ת חַ יֵיהֶ ם) from the slavery. Why these name? It is very simple. Levi was exempt from the slavery. They were not part of it all but insisted on having their brethren’s plight front and center at all times regardless.
With this, we can understand that when Amram took Yocheved as a wife, the slavery had already started. While he and she were also exempt, being members of Levi, they named their children just like their ancestor: Miriam – because the lives of Bnei Yisrael were bittered (ו ַ י ְ מָ רְ ר וּ אֶ ת חַ יֵיהֶ ם); Aharon – to remind them of pregnancy (הריון), and Pharoah decreeing all baby boys be thrown into the Nile. They were not in slavery themselves and needed a method in which they’d not only remember but have their brethren’s plight in front of them at all times. And Moshe Rabbeinu did the exact same thing! In Midyan, he named his first son Gershom and second son, Eliezer. Which occurrence came first – Hakadosh Baruch Hu helping Moshe or Moshe being a stranger in a foreign land? The latter was clearly first, as it took place in Egypt before Moshe was even chased out to Midyan. Yet, his first son was named Gershom, because Moshe said, “I am here in Midyan, too far away from my brethren suffering in Egypt. I need a way to bring them closer.”
Rav Yonatan Eybeschutz, in Tiferet Yonatan, shares something beautiful on this week’s Parsha. The tribe of Levi, from which the redeemer (Moshe) came, did not perform any work in Egypt. Pharoah exempted them because Yaacov Avinu, at his funeral, ordered that two sons not carry his aron: Yosef, due to him being of royalty, and Levi, due to his future role in carrying the Aron Brit. Pharoah was at the funeral, and he asked Yosef why this was. Yosef explained, and Levi was immediately issued an exemption due to their status. Tiferet Yonatan writes, Pharoah saw through his magic, that the redeemer would descend from that tribe of Levi, and he was thrilled. If they were not working, there is no way they’d be tasked with redeeming the people. G-d would simply not send an outsider like that, he figured.
He doesn’t provide the example of Yitro at Har Sinai, but I believe it fits. Yitro visited Moshe and family in the desert after they left Egypt but was sent home just ahead of Matan Torah. Nowadays, it’s common to welcome an in-law with open arms but as soon as they start rearranging furniture and making other recommendations, the plane ticket, train ticket, or car ride home is quickly offered. After Yitro provided valuable advice to Moshe, why was he sent home? Moshe was instructed to send him home because וּ בְ שִׂ מְ חָ תוֹ ל ֹא־יִ תְ עָ רַ ב זָ ר – And no outsider can share in its joy (Mishlei.14:10). Yitro was sitting at home while the children of Hakadosh Baruch Hu were forming bricks, and therefore he was not welcome at the ceremony. One who did not take part in the slavery could not take part in the celebration.
Tiferet Yonatan says, Pharoah was licking his chops because he had just exempted Levi from hard labor, and therefore, he figured, the redeemer could never arrive and Bnei Yisrael would remain his slaves forever. At first, it seemed like Pharoah might actually be right. Next week, we’ll read how Bnei Yisrael did not hear, or listen to, Moshe due to being out of breath and tired from work. When they heard Moshe was from shevet Levi, they turned the other way, not remotely interested in what he had to say, and responding that they were told the redeemer would arrive from the tribe of Yehuda – with the name David ben Yishai. That is what was promised to them in Yaacov Avinu’s blessing – that Yehuda would lead.
Tiferet Yonatan addresses the question. Hakadosh Baruch Hu told Moshe His name is ה-ה אֲשׁ ֶר אֶהְיֶ -אֶ הְ יֶ, but when instructing Moshe how to relay His name on to Bnei Yisrael, it should be shortened to ה שְׁלָחַנִי אֲלֵיכֶם-אֶ הְ יֶ. The name given to Moshe reflects Hakadosh Baruch Hu being there with Bnei Yisrael in this exile just as He’ll be with them in the future exile. This was not a message for those already struggling, however. They didn’t need to hear they’d be redeemed, only to face exile once again. Moshe was to tell them only about one exile and one redemption – and if there was only to be one, surely, they figured, it had to be the ultimate redeemer, David ben Yishai.
Pharoah was ultimately wrong, because while the tribe of Levi didn’t work in physical labor, they toiled with great difficulty in learning. And Moshe Rabbeinu achieved the status of one who endured the struggles of slavery through his exemplary trait of נוֹשֵׂא בְעֹל עִם חֲבֵרוֹ. He shouldered the burden of all in slavery and was thus eligible to arrive as their redeemer. He tended to their wounds. He straightened their backs and rearranged their loads. He took on the weight they could not bear. He rose up and killed one who oppressed them, despite the personal cost of doing so. This was a leader. Mashiach waits at the gates of Rome, sitting and tending to the wounded, just as Yirmiyahu did during the exile to Bavel. This is what leaders and redeemers do.
The Gemara (Megillah 27b) deals with the question of why Tanaim lived long lives. None of the reasons listed include diets of salad and kilometers of jogging. Perhaps those were only added later. What we are told by Rabbi Zeira is that he never got angry in his home, never walked ahead of a greater scholar, never uttered word of Torah in unclean places, never walked four amot without meditating on words of Torah, never slept in the Beit Midrash, never called his fellow by their derogatory name, and never rejoiced when his peer stumbled. We’re all there, right? Checkmarks for them all? Even the sleeping during a shiur one? Rabbi Zeira was there, but we must ask about the last one in the list. Why would he ever consider rejoicing in such a circumstance? Such a person needs no enemies if that is how they treat their friends! This means one thing – when my friend was struggling, I could not live life being happy and celebrating. When my fellow was suffering, I was too. That is the recipe – נוֹשֵׂא בְעֹל עִם חֲבֵרוֹ.
At this moment, the levaya of a gadol, Rav Matisyahu Chaim Salomon zt”l is taking place at the Mir in Yerushalayim. Rav Salomon was the mashgiach of Gateshead Yeshiva for more than thirty years, before assuming the position of Mashgiach at the Bais Medrash Govoha in Lakewood twenty-five years ago. I want to share an idea in his name, that should be a merit to his holy Neshama. The Gemara (Berachot 27b) debates whether the Tefillah of Maariv is an obligation or voluntary. During the debate, it is recounted that Rabban Gamliel offended Rabbi Yehoshua to the point where Rabban Gamliel’s words were no longer recorded, and he was dismissed from his position as head of the Beit Midrash. Rabbi Elazar ben Azaria, aged only eighteen, was offered the position and accepted it. After the Halacha for Maariv was ruled to be like Rabbi Yehoshua, Rabban Gamliel decided he would approach Rabbi Yehoshua and make amends. Upon arriving at his house, he noticed all the walls were black, and said, “From your walls, it appears you’re a blacksmith.” He had no idea that Rabbi Yehoshua was forced to engage in that grueling trade in order to make a living. Rabbi Yehoshua replied, “Woe unto a generation that you are its leader as you are unaware of the difficulties of Torah scholars, how they make a living and how they feed themselves.” He refused to forgive him, until later relenting.
What does the word Nasi mean? Do you think it means to be elevated above everyone else? Olelot Efraim says no. Nasi means someone who’ll shoulder the burden of everyone else: נוֹשֵׂ א בְּעֹל כָּל הָעָם עַל הַכְּתֵפַיִם. Each shevet had a Nasi, and that leader’s job was to carry the weight of their entire tribe. Rabbi Yehoshua could not believe that Rabban Gamliel wished to be Nasi without understanding the basic needs and struggles of those he represented. Rabbi Yehoshua was a blacksmith at home because that is what he needed to do to pay the bills, and he could not simply take a mess-free job in a store, because it was forbidden for him to do so publicly. And Rabban Gamliel never inquired if all was well.
Rav Salomon zt”l says, in the name of his rebbe, Rav Aryeh Leib Gurwicz, that being a Nasi and being Moshe Rabbeinu required shouldering the burden of one’s fellows. Without that, the Torah that can be absorbed and relayed is limited. That is the power of Moshe Rabbeinu and the power of the officers in Mitzrayim who became the Sanhedrin. They carried the burden of all their peers.
We’re in such a difficult time right now. Bnei Ashkenaz, on Mondays and Thursdays, recite:
אַחֵינוּ כָּל בֵּית יִשְׂרָ אֵל ָרָ ה וּבַשִּׁ בְיָה הַנְּתוּנִים בַּצ...
Our brethren, the entire House of Israel who remain in distress and captivity...
What does the entire Beit Yisrael mean? There might be a few captives, or maybe ten, or Rachmana litzlan, the horrific number we’re dealing with at present. But none of these add
