In Exodus 9:10, the Torah refers to the plague of boils as "avabu'ot poreiakh," which means "an inflammation breaking out." In the Talmud (B. Baba Kamma 90b), Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi says that the boils that the Egyptians had on their skin were moist on the outside and hard on the inside. This is the opposite of normal boils, which are hard on the outside and contain liquid pus on the inside.
The Torah Temimah says that Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi's interpretation is necessary because if the boils were ordinary, they wouldn't really count as a plague. Boils come and go, sprout and heal. In fact, he notes that only a boil that is wet on the outside and dry on the inside disqualifies the firstborn animal sacrifice; a regular boil is not a big enough defect to matter. Torah Temimah says that these "wet on the outside and hard on the inside" boils are the "Egyptian boils that do not heal" mentioned as a divine punishment in Devarim 28:27.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Parashat Va'Era 5772: Frogzilla!
The second plague that God sent to Pharaoh was the frog infestation. Sometimes, the Torah refers to these animals in the plural - tzefarde'im - but in Exodus 8:2, the Torah uses the singular, tzefardeya. Grammatically speaking, this is not unusual. In English, some animals are referenced by their singular name even when a plural is intended (e.g. fish, deer, etc.)
The Talmud uses the discrepancy to present us with two similar midrashim on verse 8:2. Rabbi Akiva says that there in fact was only one giant frog, and it covered the whole land of Egypt like a kind of amphibian Godzilla. Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah says that there was one giant frog, and that the people split it open hoping to kill it, but instead let out swarms of smaller frogs.
These midrashim teach us a lesson for our lives today. When one has an enormous problem on one's hand, the temptation is to panic and do something drastic. But when we act irrationally and out of fear, we are liable to make the enormous problem even worse by allowing it to multiply. It is better to not attack the problem until a sensible, rational solution is found.
The Talmud uses the discrepancy to present us with two similar midrashim on verse 8:2. Rabbi Akiva says that there in fact was only one giant frog, and it covered the whole land of Egypt like a kind of amphibian Godzilla. Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah says that there was one giant frog, and that the people split it open hoping to kill it, but instead let out swarms of smaller frogs.
These midrashim teach us a lesson for our lives today. When one has an enormous problem on one's hand, the temptation is to panic and do something drastic. But when we act irrationally and out of fear, we are liable to make the enormous problem even worse by allowing it to multiply. It is better to not attack the problem until a sensible, rational solution is found.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Shemot 5772: The Brick Around Pharaoh's Neck
Usually, the Torah refers to B'nai Yisrael (the children of Israel) in the plural. But in this week's portion, Pharaoh speaks about the Jewish people in the singular, as if the entire nation were one person. In Exodus 1:11, we read, "They (the Egyptians) placed taskmasters upon him...and he built garrison cities for Pharaoh, Pitom and Raamses." We would normally expect the verse to say "The Egyptians imposed taskmasters upon them...and they built garrison cities..."
What accounts for this unusual usage of the singular declension? The Talmud (B. Sotah 11a) explains it with a midrash: "Rabbi Elazar taught in the name of Rabbi Shimon that they (Pharaoh's advisers) hung a brick around Pharaoh's neck. Whenever a Jew would claim that he was too refined to do the work assigned him, they would say, "Surely you are not more refined than our Pharaoh!" That is, they would say to the complaining Jew, "If our royal king can have a brick hung around his neck, then you, a miserable slave, can do manual labor."
The midrash justifies this interpretation with the "Vayasimu alav" in the verse 1:11. Those words mean literally, "They placed on him." In the p'shat (literal) reading of the verse, the word him refers to Israel. But in the drash (interpreted) reading, the word him refers to Pharaoh.
There is a lesson for our times in this midrash. Politicians should be willing to make the sacrifices that they ask of the people. Pharaoh, of course, was faking his sacrifice. But today's leaders should be subject to the same laws that they place upon us. In some cases, they write laws that specifically don't include members of Congress. In other cases, the laws do apply to them, but our representatives and senators act as though they are above the law.
What accounts for this unusual usage of the singular declension? The Talmud (B. Sotah 11a) explains it with a midrash: "Rabbi Elazar taught in the name of Rabbi Shimon that they (Pharaoh's advisers) hung a brick around Pharaoh's neck. Whenever a Jew would claim that he was too refined to do the work assigned him, they would say, "Surely you are not more refined than our Pharaoh!" That is, they would say to the complaining Jew, "If our royal king can have a brick hung around his neck, then you, a miserable slave, can do manual labor."
The midrash justifies this interpretation with the "Vayasimu alav" in the verse 1:11. Those words mean literally, "They placed on him." In the p'shat (literal) reading of the verse, the word him refers to Israel. But in the drash (interpreted) reading, the word him refers to Pharaoh.
There is a lesson for our times in this midrash. Politicians should be willing to make the sacrifices that they ask of the people. Pharaoh, of course, was faking his sacrifice. But today's leaders should be subject to the same laws that they place upon us. In some cases, they write laws that specifically don't include members of Congress. In other cases, the laws do apply to them, but our representatives and senators act as though they are above the law.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Vayehi 5772: Bows and Arrows
We normally associate Judaism and Torah with peace. So it is somewhat surprising to read a militaristic verse like Genesis 48:22, in which Jacob says to Joseph, "And now, I assign to you one portion more than to your brothers, which I wrested from the Amorites with my sword and bow."
The Talmud (B. Bava Batra 123a) recognizes the surprising mention of weaponry and counters with a verse from Psalm 44: "I do not trust in my bow, and my sword will not save me." The Talmud resolves the conflict by saying that "my bow" in verse 48:22 refers to Jacob's power of prayer, and "my sword" in the same verse refers to his power of bakashah, or making a request of God.
Although weapons are sometimes necessary to defend innocent life, this midrash in the Talmud is simply saying that weapons do not change the world; only ideas can do that.
Vayehi 5772: Heavy Eyes
In Genesis 48:10, the Torah says that Jacob's eyes "were heavy from age..." In the Talmud (B. Yoma 28b), Rabbi Hama says in the name of Rabbi Hanina, "Our Patriarchs never lost the ability to study Torah. Jacob was old and was sitting in the yeshiva, as it is written 'And Jacob's eyes were heavy with age.'"
The Torah Temimah explains that the Jacob's eyes were heavy not with age but with the words of Torah that he had acquired over his lifetime. In other words, the Torah is not saying that Jacob's eyes were physically weak but rather that they were spiritually strong with the words of Torah.
He goes on to say that Jacob could not have suffered vision loss in the physical sense because a midrash says that God gave Jacob a taste of the World To Come and that Jacob lacked no good thing. Losing one's vision is a terrible thing, so logically, Jacob could not have lost his vision in the physical sense.
The Talmud's comments on Jacob's eyes reflect a respect for the elderly that we have lost in our society. We seem to think that the smartest, best people in the world are the people who happen to be between 18 and 30. They are the ones who have the best command of technology and they are the ones who are most likely to buy things. Governments love young people because they can be counted on for decades of tax payments, whereas the elderly become a costly expense.
But when our respect for the aged is separated from our economic concerns, we find that it is the elderly who most deserve our admiration. They are the ones who fought for our country, they are the ones who developed all the science we use, they are the ones who loved us and protected us so that we could live the lives of comfort that we enjoy today.
The Torah Temimah explains that the Jacob's eyes were heavy not with age but with the words of Torah that he had acquired over his lifetime. In other words, the Torah is not saying that Jacob's eyes were physically weak but rather that they were spiritually strong with the words of Torah.
He goes on to say that Jacob could not have suffered vision loss in the physical sense because a midrash says that God gave Jacob a taste of the World To Come and that Jacob lacked no good thing. Losing one's vision is a terrible thing, so logically, Jacob could not have lost his vision in the physical sense.
The Talmud's comments on Jacob's eyes reflect a respect for the elderly that we have lost in our society. We seem to think that the smartest, best people in the world are the people who happen to be between 18 and 30. They are the ones who have the best command of technology and they are the ones who are most likely to buy things. Governments love young people because they can be counted on for decades of tax payments, whereas the elderly become a costly expense.
But when our respect for the aged is separated from our economic concerns, we find that it is the elderly who most deserve our admiration. They are the ones who fought for our country, they are the ones who developed all the science we use, they are the ones who loved us and protected us so that we could live the lives of comfort that we enjoy today.
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