Thursday, May 19, 2016

Firewater From Heaven: The Red Sea, the Ten Plagues, and World Peace

Published in Nitzachon, the Adas Torah journal.


One of the great mysteries of the redemption from Egypt is the Splitting of the Red Sea. It may be the premier supernatural event of the Exodus, but it all seems so unnecessary. His country in ruins, Pharaoh had already surrendered. The Jew were on the march to Mount Sinai, laden with the spoils of Egypt and savoring the thrill of freedom. Why ruin the party with more drama?
Make no mistake, Hashem deliberately instigated the pursuit of the Egyptian army.
Hashem spoke to Moshe, “Speak to the Children of Israel. They should go back and encamp… by the sea. Pharaoh will say the Children of Israel are wandering about the land; the desert has closed them off! I will strengthen Pharaoh’s heart and he will pursue after them. I will then be honored through Pharaoh and his entire army, and Egypt will know that I am God. (Shemos 14:1-4)
Had Hashem not told the Jews to go back and camp by the sea, had Hashem not hardened Pharaoh’s heart, he never would have taken chase. The Splitting of the Sea thus holds the strange distinction of being the greatest miracle we didn’t need. Couldn’t we just leave Egypt in peace? Why split the sea?[1]

Right vs. Left
After the tenth plague, Moshe presents the mitzvah of tefillin and repeatedly relates it to yetzias mitzrayim:
Moshe said to the nation, “Remember this day that you departed from Egypt, from the house of slaves. For with a strong hand, bechozek yad, Hashem took you out…
“It will be for you a sign on your hand and a remembrance between your eyes… for with a strong hand, b’yad chazaka, Hashem took you out from Egypt…
“It shall be a sign on your hand and totafos between your eyes, for with a strong hand, b’chozek yad, Hashem took you out of Egypt.” (Shemos 13:3,9,16)
If tefillin is supposed to remind us that Hashem took us out with a “strong hand,” why do we wear it on the left arm, typically the weaker of the two?[2]  The surprising answer is that Hashem’s “strong hand” is actually His left! The Ohr HaChaim, Rabbi Chaim ibn Attar (d. 1743), explains:
We need to understand why Hashem didn’t choose the superior right hand for the performance of this mitzvah. Our rabbis have said it is because the [left arm] is adjacent to the heart which is on the left side.[3] What they said is true, but I believe I can [also] offer a good reason based on the Torah’s own explanation, “for with a strong hand [Hashem took you out of Egypt].” You should know that the attributes of the Almighty, He should be blessed, have two dimensions; one is called yad hagedola, the “great hand,” and the other is called yad hachazaka, the “strong hand.” “The great hand” is the quality of chesed and goodness, and the “strong hand” is the gevurah, the divine might, that makes evildoers pay for their crimes. Now, at the time of the Exodus, Hashem reached out with His “strong hand” and struck His enemies with ten plagues. This is why the Almighty ruled that tefillin… should be placed on our weaker hand which is symbolic of the “strong hand” that took us out of Egypt.
We can better understand this teaching of the Ohr HaChaim by quoting what he writes elsewhere:
Know that there is a divine attribute of chesed, kindness. To help humans understand it, it is called the “right hand”[4] and the “great hand.” The divine attribute of gevurah and din, might and justice, is called the “left hand”[5] and also the “strong hand.”[6]
To summarize. As an infinite being, Hashem obviously lacks a body and has no hands. The Torah’s references to divine body parts are just metaphors[7] to help us understand how Hashem relates to people: His “strong hand” refers to His judgement, and His “great hand” refers to His kindness.  Despite the fact that the strong hand is called “strong,” the great hand of kindness is actually the stronger of the two.[8] The divine “great hand” is thus symbolized by our right and the divine “strong hand” corresponds to our left.[9] This is consonant with the Kabbalistic tradition that “right” is chesed and “left” is din. It follows that since tefillin is meant to recall the judgement of Egypt by the (so-called) “strong hand,” we wear it on our left arm.

Strong vs. Great
On the one hand, the Ohr HaChaim’s contention that “yad hagedola” refers to chesed is consistent with the standard usage of the word gadol.[10] On the other hand, it flies in the face of the single place in Tanach where the expression is actually used. The Torah tells us that after the Egyptians drowned in the Red Sea, “the Jews saw hayad hagedola, the great hand, Hashem used in Egypt and the Jews feared Hashem” (Shemos 14:31). The “great hand used in Egypt” is obviously a reference to the Ten Plagues and this is why it elicited a fear response. The “great hand” of the verse is thus not divine kindness, it is divine judgement, and this is exactly how both Rashi and the Ramban explain it.
“The great hand – the great gevurah performed by HaKadosh Baruch Hu” (Rashi ad loc.). “According to the teachings of Kabbalah, the yad hagedola was revealed to them, namely midas hadin, the divine attribute of justice, which Hashem expressed in Egypt” (Ramban ad loc.).
If pshat and Kabbalah are in agreement that the “great hand” is gevurah and din, how can the Ohr HaChaim claim that it is chesed?!
In all fairness, the Ohr Chaim ends his exposition on tefillin with this caveat: “Although we do find that the “great hand” is often used [to refer to justice], this is just the attribute of compassion agreeing with the attribute of justice, but the primary term for justice is the strong hand [not the great hand].” To be frank, his defense is unsatisfying. If the “strong hand” is the primary term for justice, why does the Torah say the Jews saw Hashem’s “great hand” in Egypt? It should say we saw His “strong hand”!
The problem here is not only with the Ohr HaChaim. The fact is, Hashem did take us out with His “strong hand.” Moshe said to the nation, “Remember this day that you departed from Egypt… for with a strong hand Hashem took you out…” (Shemos 13:3). If Hashem used His “strong hand” for the Exodus, why didn’t we see it? Why did we see His “great hand”?

The Ambidextrous Redeemer
After the Sea crashes down on the Egyptian Army and the Jews are saved, they celebrate and express their thanks to Hashem by singing the Song by the Sea. Its lyrics include this anthropomorphism:
Your right hand is decorated with strength; Your right hand smashes the enemy. (Shemos 15:6)
Rashi explains:
“Your right hand… your right hand” – twice. When the Jews fulfill the Will of Hashem, the left becomes right.
“Your right hand is decorated with strength” – to save the Jews, and Your other right hand smashes the enemy (midrash). In my opinion, the very same right hand [that saved the Jews also] smashed the enemy, doing something humanly impossible, performing two tasks with a single hand.
All of Rashi’s comments are in agreement about the basic meaning of this verse. The two stanzas refer to two different acts, the salvation of the Jews and the destruction of the enemy, and both acts were performed by Hashem’s “right hand.”
Now, the idea that Hashem saved the Jews with His right hand is understandable; after all, it was an act of chesed and chesed comes from the right. But how can we say that He destroyed the Egyptians with His right hand? Punishments are always performed by the left!
The midrash tells us that the revelation at the sea was such that even the lowest Jew saw something that the prophet Yechezkel never saw.[11] In what way was splitting the sea a greater revelation than prophecy? How was it a bigger miracle than the Ten Plagues? The answer is that the plagues were indeed miraculous, but they had a single function, to punish the Egyptians. The splitting of the sea, however, had a dual function. At the sea, Hashem saved the Jews with chesed and decimated the enemy with gevurah, and he did both in the very same act. Retribution and redemption occurred simultaneously. This revelation of achdus, Hashem’s unity, was unparalleled by the plagues. Ordinarily, Hashem keeps His unity hidden from man. Although we know it to be true, in our world diversity reigns and the infinite oneness of the Creator is unfathomable.[12] At the sea, however, Hashem revealed His achdus for all to see in a selfless act of love.[13]
Like Creation itself, splitting the sea was not something Hashem had to do – and that is precisely why it was so meaningful. By definition, an act of love is voluntary, and ideally it discloses something personal. Hashem wanted to forge an intimate relationship with the Jewish People and that required a revelation of His essence. This is why He split the sea.
Hashem charged into battle like a man of war, ripping the sea in half and drowning the Egyptians, and He did it all as a gift for the Jewish People. When they saw how much Hashem loves them, they realized that He does not have two different hands at all. The yad hachazaka and the yad hagedola are one and the same; Hashem’s left hand of justice is His right hand of kindness! “The Jews saw the great hand… and the nation feared Hashem and they believed in Hashem” (Shemos 14:31). They feared His justice, they believed in His love, they recognized His unity, and then they began to sing.
Your right hand is adorned with strength;
Your right hand smashed the enemy!

Fire vs. Snow
המשל ופחד עמו, עשה שלום במרומיו.
“Dominion and terror are with Him; He makes peace in His heights” (Iyov 25:2).
“Dominion” – this is [the angel] Michael. “Terror” – this is [the angel] Gavriel.
“He makes peace in His heights” – [In His heights] fire and water mix together and the water does not extinguish the fire. (Rashi)
The two halves of this verse appear unrelated until you read the midrash. “He makes peace in His heights” – Reish Lakish taught, “[The angel] Michael is entirely snow and [the angel] Gabriel is entirely fire,[14] and they stand next to each other without harming each other” (Devarim Rabba 5:12).
Michael is snow? Gavriel is fire?! If not for the assistance of our trusted commentators, the meaning of these strange statements would be over our heads. The Eitz Yosef (Rabbi Chanoch Zundel ben Yosef, d. 1867) explains, “Michael is entirely snow – this means he represents the attribute of compassion, which ‘cools off’ the attribute of justice.[15] Gabriel does the opposite.” Citing multiple sources, The Maharzu (Rabbi Zev Wolf Einhorn, d. 1862) asserts, “Michael… is always chesed and Gavriel is din.” The idea appears in the Zohar. “In every place, Michael is first from the side of chesed” and “Gavriel is from the side of gevurah.”[16] These characteristics fit neatly with what we say in the nighttime Shema, “On my right is Michael and on my left, Gavriel” (Maharzu ad loc.). 
This may all sound like esoterica bordering on the mystical, nonetheless, it is in the gemora. When, due to the many sins of Israel, the time came to destroy Yerushalayim, Hashem ordered Gavriel to “fill his cupped hands with burning coals from between the heavenly cheruvim and throw them upon the city” (Yechezkel 10:2). Instead of taking the coals himself, Gavriel had Michael pick up the coals first (ibid 10:7).
Rabbi Shimon Chasida said, “Had the coals not cooled off [as they passed] from the hands of Michael[17] to the hands of Gavriel, there would be no remnant nor survivor from the enemies of Israel.[18] (Yoma 77a)
To the prophet Yechezkel, the tempering of Hashem’s justice appeared as a vision of the angel Michael cooling off the burning coals of the angel Gavriel. This is a not a vision of God Himself, but of the differentiation and interaction of His attributes, chesed and din, as they make their way down into our world. The roots of divine compassion, high above the angels, cannot be seen by Yechezkel. Unfathomable to the human mind and impossible to depict in a vision, the higher reality is the seamless achdus of Hashem. The unity of left and right may not be visible to the prophets, but it was experienced by all who stood by the Red Sea and they put the revelation to verse. “Your right hand is adorned with strength; Your right hand smashed the enemy!” At the sea, even the lowest Jew saw something Yechezkel never saw.
This is not a minor theological distinction, it is night and day. The midrash is explicit.
Rabbi Eliezer said, “At the sea, a maidservant saw something that Yechezkel and Yeshaya did not see… For the prophets only saw prophetic visions, as the verse states, “The heavens opened and I saw visions of Elokim” (Yechezkel 1:1). Since they saw seraphim and holy chayos on the right and on the left they therefore did not recognize the honor of their creator.[19] However, when HaKadosh Baruch Hu was revealed by the sea, not angel, nor seraph, nor holy chayos appeared with Him, and as a result, the Jews recognized the honor of their creator with the sight of the neshama and the sight of the heart – and it seemed to them as if they saw it with their eyes! Even babes and the nursing young saw the honor of their creator, pointed at Him with their fingers, and said, “This is my God!”[20]
 
Kaddish
Some Kabbalistic secrets are not so secret. This one appears in the Halachic code of the Tur, in the Laws of Kaddish.
[Then you say] “oseh shalom bimromav,” He who makes peace in His heights. This is a reference to the angels which are fire and water, two opposites, and neither one extinguishes the other. (Tur, Ohr HaChaim 56)
Later in Ohr HaChaim (123), the Tur describes the well-known ritual at the end of Kaddish.
When saying “oseh shalom bimromav,” he turns his face toward the left, and when saying “hu yaaseh shalom” he turns to face toward the right.
This halacha is based on the gemora (Yoma 53b) which adds that since we are facing Hashem when we daven, our left is Hashem’s right and our right is Hashem’s left. After all we have learned, the Maharsha’s comments will not surprise us.
When he says “oseh shalom bimromav” (He who makes peace in His heights) i.e., above where compassion is found, he turns his face to Hashem’s right, and when he says, “hu yaaseh shalom aleinu” (He shall make peace for us) i.e., below, he turns to face towards Hashem’s left which indicates the attribute of justice.
At the end of Kaddish, in a powerful combination of words and movements, we make an appeal for Shalom, for peace. We speak not of the ordinary peace between men, but of the peace and perfection of Heaven. It is a prayer for Hashem’s unity to flow into our world so that the flames of justice will be smothered by the cool waters of His infinite compassion.

Hailstorm
The plague of hail did more than knock down trees and kill the fools who remained outdoors. It also damaged the harvest. “The flax and barley were broken, for the barley was ripe and the flax had stalks. But the wheat and spelt were not broken because they were afilos” (ibid 9:31-32). What does afilos mean? It might mean “late.” Wheat and spelt grow later in the season and might have been pliable at the time of the hail. This would explain why they did not crack when struck like the hardened flax and barley. Rashi offers another possibility. “In the midrash (Tanchuma) there are sages who debate this and understand the word afilos to be a contraction of pilei pilaos.[21] [Hashem] performed a wonder of wonders for them that [their wheat and spelt] were not destroyed.”
Every one of the Ten Plagues was a great miracle. Why does the survival of some grain stand out as a “wonder of wonders”? Because it was an act of kindness in the midst of a plague. Here Hashem is hammering the Egyptians with a furious hailstorm and He makes a miracle so they will have food to eat. Judgement and kindness working in tandem is a truly wondrous thing, especially for polytheists who believe in competing gods. The hail was a sign of the Creator, the One God in whom justice and kindness live together in peace.
There is a second example of miraculous coexistence in the plague of hail.    
Moshe stretched out his staff on the heavens and Hashem gave thunder and hail, and fire traveled towards the earth. Hashem rained down hail on the land of Egypt. There was hail and fire flashed inside the hail… (Shemos 9:23-24)
 Hail is ice. How could fire burn inside hail? Rashi explains.
[It was] a miracle inside a miracle; fire and hail combined. Hail is water, but to fulfill the Will of their Master they made peace with each other.
Once again, we are faced with what appears to be a meaningless miracle. Fire and water made peace? What for? Why is Hashem wantonly violating the laws of nature? The answer is that the plague of hail came from a different place, a place beyond nature.
Hashem spoke to Moshe, “Stretch your hand on the heavens and there will be hail on the entire land of Egypt…” (Shemos 9:22)
“On the heavens” – According to the midrash (Aggadah), HaKodosh Baruch Hu raised Moshe above the heavens.” (Rashi ad loc.)
Above the heavens!” In our universe fire and water are incompatible, but the hail was not of our universe. It came from outside, from above the heavens, from a place of pure peace. “Oseh shalom bimromav” (Iyov 25:2). “In the heights there is nothing other than Shalom” (Ramban ad loc.).

The Gift of Plagues
The plagues were not so much about punishment as they were about religious education. As the Ramban explains, the plagues addressed the old problem of paganism.  
From the time paganism arose in society in the days of Enosh, man’s faith in God began to falter. Some denied God’s existence altogether, claiming the world always existed… others denied God’s knowledge of the details [of human behavior]… others conceded His knowledge, but denied His providence, making man like the fish of the sea that are not supervised by God and for whom there is no punishment or reward…
However, when Hashem favors a community (i.e., Egypt) or an individual (i.e., Pharaoh) and performs a wonder for them, altering the world’s ordinary course and its nature, the falsity of all those positions becomes clear to everyone, for the amazing wonder demonstrates that the world has a God who created it; He knows, He supervises and He is omnipotent. (Ramban to Shemos 13:16)
Hashem’s agenda was to convert Pharaoh from polytheism to monotheism, and to that end, He signed Pharaoh up for an introductory course in Jewish theology, otherwise known as the Ten Plagues. For the seventh class, fire and ice are the instructors and the lesson is unity, a unity unlike anything in human experience.[22] As Pharaoh was told explicitly, the hailstorm happened “so that you will know that there is none like Me in all the earth” (Shemos 9:14). On earth there is division and conflict; above there is only peace.
One thing is clear. Hashem wants Pharaoh and the Egyptians to know Him well, and according to the Ramban, it is because He favors them. They may not have received it as such, but the plagues were actually a gift.[23] There is nothing better for the condition of man and society than the knowledge of God.[24]
In light of what we know about the symbols of fire and snow, we can well understand how the wheat survived the hail. The hail was firewater from another world, a revelation of the wondrous coexistence of divine justice and compassion. It destroyed the barley, it protected the wheat, and it served as a sign that Hashem was moving forward with His plan to end paganism and bring peace to earth though the creation of His Chosen People. Of course, skeptics claimed it was meaningless. The wheat was soft and pliable and it survived the hail naturally. They had a point, but such arguments could only be entertained until the Splitting of the Sea.
Viewing the plagues in retrospect from the revelation at the sea, “the Jews saw the yad hagedola, the great hand, that Hashem used in Egypt” (Shemos 14:31). Great hand? We were taken out of Egypt by the yad chazaka, the strong hand, not the great hand! This is true, but after they were saved, the Jews had an epiphany. The yad hachazaka of Egypt and the yad hagedola of the sea are one and the same! There was miraculous chesed concealed within the terrible plagues – concern and caring for the welfare of both Jew and Egyptian. Hashem’s justice and compassion, punishment and kindness, destruction and creation, the left and the right, it is all one. This is the greatest wonder of all.
May the One who makes peace in His heights make peace for us and for all of Israel, and say: Amen!





[1] Classical commentators have addressed this question. See, for example, Ohr HaChaim 3:18 (end).
[2] The halacha that tefillin is worn on the left arm is derived from the Torah’s use of the word ידכה (Shemos 13:16), a conjunction of יד כהה, the weaker hand, which is the left (Menachos 37a).
[3] Menachos 37a; cf. Rambam, Hilchos Tefillin 4:2.
[4] “Every turn you make should only be towards the right…” (Yoma 15a).
[5] “Is there “left” above [in heaven]? Rather, there are those [angels] who “go right,” i.e., argue in favor [of the accused in the heavenly court] and there are those who “go left,” arguing to prosecute” (Midrash Tanchuma, Shemos 8). “A person should always push away with the left and draw in close with the right” (Ruth Rabba 2:16).
[6] Chefetz Hashem to Shabbos 89a. Cited by the “Yismach Moshe” commentary on the Ohr HaChaim (Korngot, 2009).
[7] Rambam, Yesodei HaTorah 1:8-9
[8] “Which divine attribute is greater, the attribute of goodness or the attribute of punishment? It should be said that the attribute of goodness is greater than the attribute of punishment…” (Yoma 76a). “The attribute of goodness is five hundred times stronger than the attribute of punishment” (Tosefta Sotah 3:4).
[9] Man was created “b’tzelem Elokim.” Although Hashem is infinite, incorporeal and unknowable to a physical being, man was designed in a way that enables him to have some insight into divine providence. For example, the statement that Hashem’s “eyes are always on the land of Israel” (Devarim 11:12) only has meaning to beings with eyes, and only someone who has experienced love can appreciate what it means when Hashem says, “I love you” (Malachi 1:2). The use of the left hand as a symbol of divine justice may thus allude to the fact that Hashem prefers not to use it. “I do not desire the death of the wicked one, but rather the return of the wicked one from his ways so that he will live!” (Yechezkel 33:11). Nonetheless, we would do well to remember that ultimately “the human mind is incapable of fathoming or investigating the true reality [of Hashem]” (Rambam, Yesodei HaTorah 1:9).
[10]Ha’el hagadol.” “Ha’el is the creator, and He is the gadol with chesed” (Rabbenu Bechaya to Devarim 10:17). The Jewish Nation praying to “Elohei Avraham,” the God of the man of chesed, is thus a fulfilment of Hashem’s promise to make Avraham into a גוי גדול (cf. Pesachim 117b). “לך ה' הגדולה” (Divrei HaYomim I 29:11) refers to the acts of creation (Berachos 58a). The Maharsha explains, “gedulah is the attribute of chesed, and with this attribute the acts of creation came to be, as the verse states, “עולם חסד יבנה” (Tehillin 89:3).”
[11] Yalkut Beshalach 244; cf. Rashi to Shemos 15:2.
[12] See Nefesh HaChaim 3:4-6.
[13] Chesed and din working in unison appears to be the central theme of the Song by the Sea. Examples abound. “The strength and vengeance of our God was our salvation” (Rashi’s translation of 15:2; see also Kli Yakar ad loc. and Ramban, s.v. zeh eli v’anveihu). “Hashem is a man of war; Hashem is His name” (15:3) – “The midas harachamim also waged war… at the very same time that Hashem waged war against the Egyptians He related to the Jews with midas harachamim” (Ohr HaChaim; cf. Seforno ad loc.). “With the wind of Your nostrils the waters piled up…” (15:8) – “This is the wonder: with the midas hadin He saved the Jews and with the midas harachamim he drowned the Egyptians!” (Chasam Sofer al HaTorah). “You stretched out your right hand; the earth swallowed [the enemy]. With Your kindness You guided us – You redeemed this nation!” (15:12-13). The unity of the event allows us to understand why Miriam only thanked Hashem for destroying the Egyptians (15:21) and did not even feel it necessary to mention the salvation of the Jews.
[14] Gavriel said… “I am the officer of fire” (Pesachim 118a). “There is a fire that overrides fire: [the fire] of Gavriel” (Yoma 21b).
[15] “Originally, they tied the red string on the inside of the door of the [Temple] Hall. When the goat reached the desert, [the string] turned white, as the verse states, ‘If your sins are red, they will be whitened like snow’ (Yeshaya 1:18)” (Yoma 67a).
[16] Zohar, Vayechi 235b and Tikkunei Zohar 455, 89a. For a plethora of Zoharic sources about the competing natures of Gavriel and Michael, see Margolis, Malachei Elyon, 24-31; 116-121.
[17] The Vilna Talmud has “cheruv,” following the verse in Yechezkel, but a shoulder note cites “Michael” as an alternative from the Ein Yaakov.
[18] When saying something negative about the Jewish People, the sages commonly use the euphemism “enemies of Israel.”
[19] לא היו מכירין כבוד יוצרם. [Sic!]
[20] Midrash Seichel Tov (Buber), Shemos 15.
[21] אפילות=פלאי פלאות
[22] “There is no other unity in the universe like the unity [of Hashem]” (Rambam, Yesodei HaTorah 1:70). 
[23] “We know the truth that HaKadosh Baruch Hu only wants to bestow goodness. He loves his creations like a father loves his son, but because of this love it is appropriate that a father discipline his son for his own good in the end, as the verse states, ‘Just like a man disciplines his son, so does Hashem your God discipline you’ (Devarim 8:5)” (Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto, Derech Hashem 2:8:1). 
[24] According to the Rambam, when Dovid HaMelech said “Being close to Hashem is good for me” (Tehillim 73:28) the closeness he speaks of refers to “knowledge, i.e., the intellectual comprehension [of Hashem], not physical proximity” (Moreh Nevuchim 1:18). In short, knowledge of Hashem is good for mankind (cf. The Aryeh Kaplan Anthology, Vol. I, pg. 216). Further evidence of Hashem’s interest in the fate Egyptians can be deduced from His dismay at their failure. After the Egyptian army is destroyed, the angels in heaven began to sing. Hashem rebuked them, “The creations of My hands are drowning in the sea and you are singing songs?!” (Yalkut Beshalach 233).

Tuesday, March 15, 2016

Haman Saves the Day

Click the link below to hear the audio recording of today's shiur at Gerber & Co. Once again, we are indebted to Mr. Selwyn Gerber for hosting.

How Hashem used our enemies to bolster our faith and pave the way for redemption.

Wednesday, March 9, 2016

Words, Weaves, and Waves: The Modern Cosmology of the Ancient Mishkan

Everybody knows that God created the world with words. He said, “Let there be light,” and there was light, and so it was with everything else. According to Jewish tradition, God created the world with ten such statements (Rosh Hashanah 32a), but the Talmud challenges this contention. In Genesis we find nine statements of creation, not ten! The Talmud has an intriguing answer. The very first verse, “In the beginning God created heaven and earth,” also counts and that gives us a total of ten. Rashi explains the Talmud’s meaning. In addition to all the recorded statements of creation, God also said, “Let there be heaven.”

What is “heaven”? Heaven (shomayim) can refer to the multitude of spiritual realms created by God, the abode of the angels and the constructs of sefiros and mazalos. Heaven can also refer to the cosmos, the space which holds the physical universe. Either way, heaven is invisible, intangible, and difficult for the human mind to grasp. (Maybe this is why the act of its creation is not explicitly stated by the Torah.) This much is clear: Heaven is not nothingness. Like matter and light, it is an entity created by God.

II

Six days you shall work and perform all your melacha, but the seventh day is Shabbos for Hashem, you shall not perform any kind of melacha… for in six days Hashem made the heavens and the earth, the sea and everything that is in them, and He rested on the seventh day. (Shemos 20:9-11)

When it comes to mitzvos, the Torah does not usually give us reasons, but Shabbos is an exception. The reason we rest on Shabbos was engraved on the tablets: Hashem created the world in six days and rested on the seventh and so we are commanded to do the same, to work for the six days of the week and to rest on the seventh. But this is no ordinary imitatio dei. The thirty-nine categories of work, the melachos of Shabbos, are very same list of labors that went into constructing the Mishkan.

The forty minus one categories of work taught by the Mishnah, what do they correspond with? Rabbi Chaninah Bar Chama said, they correspond with the work of the Mishkan. (Shabbos 49b)

Rashi (ad loc.) explains that the Torah put Shabbos and the Mishkan together to teach us to learn one from the other. We could add that the Torah uses the word melacha for both. The Mishkan thus defines the term for Shabbos.

What is the meaning of this association? Why is Shabbos defined by the Mishkan? The answer is that the Mishkan symbolizes creation; it is an abstract, miniature replica of the entire universe.[1] The Mishkan’s project manager, Betzalel ben Chur, was a great mystic who knew the divine wisdom of weaving Hebrew letters into creative words.[2] The Mishkan’s construction thus not only parallels creation, it is a replay of creation; a second universe, modeled on the first, but built this time by man.[3] This is why Hashem rejoiced on the day of the Mishkan’s inauguration like the day He created heaven and earth (Megillah 10a).  

Now we can appreciate Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch’s explanation of the term melacha:

“You shall not perform any kind of melacha” means “You shall not do not perform any creative work.” Do not carry out your intention on any object; do not make any object the bearer of your idea and purpose. In short: Do not produce or create anything. (The Hirsch Chumash to Shemos ad loc.)

During the six days of the week, man engages in creative work, the thirty-nine basic labors that build up our world. This parallels Gods creation of the universe and it also parallels the construction of the Mishkan. Done right and for the right reasons, our workweek creates a space where the Shechina can enter and feel at home. And then, on Shabbos, we rest from creation itself, just like God. 
     
III

They told Moshe, “The nation is bringing more than enough…” Moshe gave the command and the word was spread in the camp: “Men and women should cease working for the sanctuary collection!” The people stopped bringing [materials]. (Shemos 36:5-6)

The pronouncement to stop bringing materials was made on Shabbos. From here we learn that one may not carry goods from one domain to another on Shabbos (Shabbos 96b). The implication is that it was previously permitted to carry on Shabbos (cf. Tosfos to Shabbos 87b, s.v. a’techumin). This comes as a surprise, especially in light of the fact that the mitzvah of Shabbos was introduced before Sinai, in Marah (cf. Rashi to Shemos 15:25). Why wasn’t carrying included together with all the other laws of Shabbos observance? Why was it delayed until now? Rabbi Yaakov Kamanetzky has a fascinating theory.

They came to Marah and they could not drink the water from Marah for it was bitter… They complained to Moshe, saying, “What shall we drink?” He cried out to Hashem and Hashem showed him a tree. He threw it in the water and the water became sweet. (Shemos 15:24-25).

The miraculous transformation of water from bitter to sweet demonstrated that the universe was created ex nihilo. God created matter and He manipulates it as He wishes. This, explains Reb Yaakov, is why the nation was given the mitzvah of Shabbos in Marah. For in Marah creation was revealed and on Shabbos we acknowledge creation by abstaining from creative acts.

All the prohibited activities of Shabbos are united under this basic principle, with the sole exception of carrying. There is nothing creative about carrying. The other categories of work introduce change, but moving an object from one domain to another does not affect the object, it merely changes its location.[4] This is why carrying was not prohibited in Marah.

However, when we received the command to build a Mishkan, carrying became prohibited. Why? Because the Mishkan broadened our understanding of creation.

When Hashem told Moshe, “Build Me a Mishkan,” he was astonished. [Moshe] said, “Hashem’s glory fills the upper and lower realms, and He says, build Me a sanctuary?! … Hashem responded, “The way you think is not the way I think. [Put] twenty boards on the north side, twenty on the south side and eight on the west side. Moreover, I will come down and constrict my presence to one square cubit. (Shemos Rabba 34:1)

How an infinite God fits in a finite sanctuary is unfathomable even to Moses, but at the very least we see that Creator is not bound by the constraints of space. The Mishkan thus demonstrated that God created not only the spiritual realms, but also "ordinary" physical space. If space is a “something,” it follows that moving an object into a different space affects the object. This, explains Reb Yaakov, is why we do not carry on Shabbos. It was thus a lesson we learned not at Marah, but from the Mishkan.[5]

IV

The historic announcement of the measurement of gravitational waves a few weeks ago raises the possibility of an alternative explanation for the prohibition of carrying on Shabbos.

We know that the Mishkan was a miniature universe, each component corresponding to a different part of creation. The tapestry that served as the Mishkan’s ceiling represented the heavens, as King David said, נוטה שמים כיריעה, “[God] spreads the heavens like a tapestry” (Tehillim 104:2; Shemos Rabba 33:4). This symbolism was further illustrated by the golden clasps that held the two tapestry panels together. “The clasps in the [tapestries’] loops looked like stars in the sky” (Shabbos 99a). Furthermore, the tapestry had two images woven into it; a lion and an eagle (Rashi to Shemos 26:1). The lion is one of the mazalos, a zodiacal constellation through which divine blessings flow and the eagle is king of the birds (Chagigah 13b). The two images thus depict the two meanings of shomayim; the spiritual heaven and the physical sky.

Ever since Einstein expounded the theory of relativity, scientists have compared the reality of space to a fabric, calling it the “fabric of space-time.” (Space and time are united under relativity, time being the fourth dimension.) Maybe not everyone always understood it as such, but the defining principle of modern cosmology was built into the Jewish Tabernacle in the Sinai Desert over three thousand years ago. Space is a tapestry.

The Torah tells us that the tapestries of the Tabernacle were handwoven by women (Shemos 35:25). This is not a piece of random trivia. Women are different from men; they are not obligated to perform time-bound mitzvos. This curious Halachic exemption is an expression of a deeper reality. Although God and His Torah transcend time, God’s sanctity can enter time by the performance of [certain] mitzvos here on earth (Sefas Emes, Bamidbar 631). However, this can only be achieved by beings who live within time and are bound by it (cf. Nefesh HaChaim 1:12). The transcendent nature of women[6] thus weakens their ability to sanctify time and, like the Creator Himself, it makes them uniquely qualified to weave the Mishkan’s tapestries, the [wo]man-made fabric of space-time.

Before the command to build a Mishkan, the Jews knew that that Hashem created the world, but they did not know that He also created physical space, for the Torah is ambiguous on that point. It was fair to assume that space does not need creating; it is just nothingness. However, when the people learned that the Mishkan, the microcosm of the created universe, includes a tapestry representing space, that taught them that space is not nothingness. Space is a fundamental component of creation, an entity comparable to a tapestry.  With that insight came the prohibition of carrying on Shabbos, for now the Jews understood that carrying is a profoundly creative act. Changing an object’s location creates a disturbance in the cosmos, vibrating space-time and violating the day of rest.[7]

Gravitational waves oscillate through space in a particular pattern. When space expands horizontally, it contracts vertically, and when it expands vertically, it contracts horizontally. (The wave is unimaginably miniscule, but is nonetheless real and measurable.) It is like a piece of fabric: when you stretch it in one direction, it gets narrower in the other. Fabrics behave this way because they are woven of weft and warp threads. We cannot say what space-time is made of, but comparing it to a fabric turns out to be the perfect analogy.

One of the thirty-nine prohibited activities on Shabbos is weaving. Which component of the Mishkan required weaving? The tapestries, the symbol of space! “He spreads out the heavens like a tapestry.” A tapestry, indeed! It is fascinating that according to some Talmudic sages, a basic law of hotza’ah, the prohibition of throwing objects in the public domain, is learned from the weaving of the Mishkan’s tapestries (cf. Shabbos 96b).

Until recently, carrying was thought to be the least creative of the prohibited activities of Shabbos.   Now we discover that moving an object makes waves that race across the cosmos at the speed of light. Who knew?

V

Space has great symbolic significance in rabbinic thought. Although we find multiple names for God in Scripture, the sages – amazingly – did not refrain from coining new ones. One of the rabbinic divine names is HaMakom, “The Place,” or “Space.” This is not to say, Heaven forfend, that the sages ascribed divinity to space. Not at all. Just like everything else, space was created by God. Rather, the sages use space to help educate us about the nature of Hashem’s relationship with the universe.

Why did they invent a new name for God and call him “Space”? Because He is the location of the universe. The universe is not His location. (Bereishis Rabba 68)

Rabbi Chaim Volozhiner explains the space analogy.

Despite the fact that physical objects do have their own independent reality, nonetheless, without a space to occupy they simply could not exist. The same can be said about the entire universe. Although [the universe] is perceptible and appears to have an independent reality, God is its “space.” If God’s will did not maintain its existence, the universe would most certainly cease to exist! (Nefesh HaChaim 3:2).

The idea sounds esoteric, however, according to the Rambam, it is the foundational principle of Judaism.

The foundation of the foundations and the pillar of the wisdoms is to know that there exists a first being. He brought all things into existence… If one were to imagine that He does not exist, then nothing else could exist either. (Yesodei HaTorah 1:1-2)

VI

This all takes us to a deeper idea, a basic principle of Kabbalistic thought. (I am out of my depth here and sensitive theological concepts do not belong on a blog. I beg the reader to infer nothing without a careful study of the entire third section of Nefesh HaChaim.)

The idea, irresponsibly abbreviated and inaccurately translated, is that the Infinite God is unaffected by creation. From His perspective, I reiterate, from the perspective of the Infinite, creation is meaningless and the universe simply does not exist. Ein Od Milvado. There isn’t anything else other than Him (Nefesh HaChaim 3:3).

To be frank, this is none of our business. We are strictly and explicitly prohibited from indulging in God’s perspective (see Nefesh HaChaim 3:3,6,8). Kabbalistic secrets may be out of bounds, but the study of subatomic particles is permitted and it too challenges our perception of reality. The deeper we go, the more we realize how tenuous matter is. Atoms are 99.9999999999% empty space. Electrons have more in common with waves than particles, and protons, when you break them down, are hardly more significant. The solidity of matter is a mirage; everything can be reduced to waves and forces governed by equations. In other words, it’s all words. Matter is nothing more than the divine statement which created it, the weavings of Hebrew letters and numbers into words and laws. Matter is no more solid than empty space, but even this feeble reality evaporates into non-existence when gazed upon by the Eyes of God.

There is a second perspective, also legitimate, and that is the perspective of Man. The Torah and the view from earth both confirm that God did create a universe. To our great relief, we do, in fact, exist. Moreover, Hashem relates to us (Nefesh HaChaim 3:5).[8]

When our father Yaakov awoke after spending the night on Mount Moriah, he declared, “this is nothing other than the House of God; this is Heaven’s Gate!” (Bereishis 28:17). Rabbi Chaim Volozhiner takes Yaakov literally. At the border between heaven and earth, site of the future Temple, there really is nothing other than God. Here Yaakov was privy to the higher reality, God’s hidden perspective (Nefesh HaChaim 3:7).

Don’t make the mistake of thinking that such spiritual vision is unique to Yaakov. There is a place where the laws of nature go soft and the human perspective turns transparent: The Holy of Holies.

In the Mishkan, the Holy of Holies measured ten cubits by ten cubits. The Holy Ark sat in the center of the room and the Divine Presence, the Shechina, spoke to Moshe from a point between the two Cherubim which stood on the Ark’s lid. The Ark was two and half cubits wide and a cubit and a half deep, but if you measured from any side of the Ark to the nearest wall, the distance was always the same: five cubits (Yoma 21a). The Ark did not take up any space, because the Ark was not in space. Built by Betzalel, it transcended the universe. The Ark stood in a different dimension, the dimension where “there is nothing other than Him.”

Space is both overrated and underrated. We overrate it when we think it is inflexible and inviolable, and we underrate it when we forget that it was created by God’s first act, depicted by the Mishkan’s curtains, legislated by the laws of Shabbos, and utilized as a divine name. Maybe because space is so basic to our existence we just don’t think about it much. Kind of like God.




[1] Cf. Shemos Rabba 33:4. As such, the Mishkan communicated the notion that God was motivated to create the universe because He “desired” to rest His Shechina in a lower realm (Midrash Tanchuma, Naso 16). However, the Shechina’s ultimate destination is not the Mishkan, but man: “Build Me a Mishkan and I will dwell within you” (Shemos 25:8; Nefesh HaChaim 1:4, author’s note).
[2] “Betzalel knew how to combine the letters which created heaven and earth” (Berachos 55a).
[3] The Mishkan thus parallels the Tablets which also came in two sets, the second of which was fashioned by man (Shemos 34:1; compare 32:16).
[4] Indeed, the rabbis consider carrying an “inferior” prohibition compared to the other thirty-eight categories (Tosfos to Shabbos 2a, s.v. pashat).
[5] Of course, it is permitted to carry items within a single domain. It is also permitted to move and to walk. Nonetheless, the idea of space as a created entity is expressed by observing the legislated Halachos of Hotza’ah.
[6] Adam was created from the earth, whereas Eve was created from Adam.
[7] See note 5.
[8] As much as these two perspectives appear mutually exclusive, they are ultimately united, see Nefesh HaChaim 3:7.

Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Sacred Space

Click below to listen to today's shiur on Parshas Terumah delivered at Gerber & Co. in Century City.

Special thanks to my father, Rabbi Noam Gordon, for his invaluable input. When I say invaluable, I mean invaluable. A big thank you also goes to our esteemed host Selwyn Gerber who came up with the title for the talk and challenged me to explore the contemporary relevance of the Mishkan. 

Tuesday, January 5, 2016

Dream and Self-Destruct: A New Take on the Torment of Pharaoh

When Pharaoh enslaves the Jews, he puts them to work on two projects: agriculture and construction - בחומר ובלבנים ובכל עבודה שבשדה. What are they building? Not housing (which, with their skyrocketing birthrate, would have been useful) but storage facilities. Huge storage facilities. Cities of storage facilities - ערי מסכנות.

Why does Pharaoh suddenly need so much storage space? According to Rashi in Divrei HaYamim (II 32:28), the word מסכנות is used exclusively to refer to granaries - and Rashi proves the meaning of the word from its appearance here in Shemos! An army of Jewish slaves working in the field is going to produce a huge surplus. Obviously, the Jews are building storage facilities for all the extra food. But why? Why is Pharaoh hoarding grain?

"A new Pharaoh arose over Egypt who did not know Yosef" (1:8). According to one opinion cited by Rashi, this was not a new king. (If it were, the Torah would presumably tell us that the old Pharaoh died, as it says later in 2:23.) Rather, the same old Pharaoh who knew Yosef personally was now ignoring him. But what does that mean? In what way is Pharaoh ignoring Yosef?

Years back, Pharaoh had two similar dreams on the same night. In his first dream, Pharaoh sees himself standing by the Nile River. He watches seven fat cows rise out of the water, only to be consumed by seven skinny cows who also come out of the water. In Pharaoh's second dream, seven fat ears of grain get consumed by seven thin ears of grain. 

Pharaoh awoke terrified. ותפעם רוחו - "His spirit was agitated and was clanging inside him like a bell" (Rashi 41:8). In other words, Pharaoh was having heart palpitations. To get a sense of the intensity of Pharaoh feelings, the Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar experienced the very same trauma - ותפעם רוחי - when he awoke after having a nightmare about a monster, a nightmare which foretold the destruction of his empire (Daniel, chap. 2). 

Pharaoh has premonitions about his dreams and the interpretations offered by his advisors reflected his fears. They suggested that the dream about the cows means that he will have seven daughters and he will bury seven daughters, and the dream about the grain means he will conquer seven kingdoms and seven provinces will rebel against his rule (Bereishis Rabba 89). However, Pharaoh is unsatisfied. He knows that his dreams are bigger and darker than that.

Called up from the dungeon to interpret the king's dreams, Yosef says that both the cows and the grain represent years (41:26-27). The two dreams are one and the same: seven years of plenty will be followed by seven years of famine, and the repetition indicates that Hashem is hurrying to make it happen (41:32). Yosef was pretty accurate; there were seven years of plenty, however, the famine lasted only two years. With the arrival of Yaakov the drought ended, as evidenced by the fact that the people began planting again (Rashi to Bereishis 47:19).

The premature end of the famine came as a great surprise to the Egyptians. Yaakov's sons understood that the destiny of the world revolves around Yaakov Avinu, but Pharaoh was sceptical. (If the presence of Yaakov can end a drought, why was there a famine in Israel?) Pharaoh could only conclude that Yosef was unreliable. He was a pretty good dream interpreter, but perfect he was not. There were inaccuracies. 

Pharaoh is now plagued not by drought, but by doubt. Yosef might have been completely wrong about the length of the famine. (Indeed, the Midrash cites opinions that the famine was originally destined to last not seven but twenty-eight or forty-two years, cf. Bereishis Rabba 89:9.) Then again, maybe Yosef was right and the famine will suddenly resume sometime in the future? (According to the Midrash ad loc., the famine did in fact resume centuries later in the days of King Yechezkel.) Either way, Yosef was off and that was a frightening prospect. Mistaken about the duration of the famine, he might also be wrong about some of the other details. Yosef claimed that the repetition of the dream indicated that it would begin soon, but what if not? What if the second dream refers to a second famine? The country must prepare itself! This is what the Torah means when it tells us that Pharaoh now chose to ignore Yosef (Rashi to Shemos 1:8). Pharaoh no longer accepted Yosef's interpretation of his dreams.

This explains why Pharaoh put the Jews to work: to prepare for the next famine. The storage facilities used last time will not suffice, for who can say how long the next famine will be? New and larger facilities must be built and the Jews will build them. After all, the famine is the Jews' fault. Dreams always follow their interpretation (even multiple interpretations; cf. Berachos 55b) and Yosef the Jew was the one who interpreted the dreams to mean that a famine will strike Egypt. The Jews created the problem. Let them fix it.

II

Who was right about the meaning of the dreams? Yosef or Pharaoh? The answer is not so simple.

In the seventh plague of hail, the Egyptian harvest is severely damaged (9:25); only the thin and flexible stalks survive (9:32). And in the following plague, the crops that survived the hail are consumed by locusts (10:5). Here we have the destruction and consumption of the Egyptian harvest marked by the number seven. Pharaoh's fears are confirmed: the dreams are still in play! Faced with a new famine, Pharaoh is relieved to have plenty of extra grain in his granaries, but at the same time, the plagues reawaken old fears.

When Pharaoh first entertained the possibility that Yosef was wrong (or chose not to reveal the whole truth), Pharaoh was forced to think out of the box. What if the dreams are not limited to foodstuffs? What if the fat cows represent not years, but the state of Egypt itself? What if, like Nebuchadnezzar, his dreams foretell the catastrophic fall of the Empire?

Pharaoh cannot help but suspect that skinny cows eating fat cows portends the miraculous victory of a weak underdog over the mighty, but fat, Egypt. The enemy looks eerily similar to the Egyptians. Stranger yet, both the victor and the vanquished are sourced in the Nile.

Rejecting Yosef's interpretation, Pharaoh believes his dream to mean that there is a mortal enemy hiding inside the country. The conclusion is inescapable: It's the Jews! Pharaoh warns his people that despite all appearances, the Jews are actually stronger than we are (1:9), and in the event of an invasion, the Jews will join forces with the enemy (1:10). Alarmed by the Jewish population explosion, Pharaoh decrees that all Jewish boys are to be drowned in the Nile. 

Pharaoh is not a madman. His fears 
are well-founded. In fact, there is far more merit to this interpretation than Pharaoh would ever know. Egypt is compared to a cow, "Egypt is a beautiful heifer" (Yermiyah 46:20), and so are the Jews; the Midrash uses the analogy of a birthing cow to describe the exodus of the Jews from Egypt (Mechilta Beshalach 14:30). Seven starving cows consuming fat cows can thus refer to the seventy Jews who came to Egypt in search of food (Bereishis 46:27) and end up destroying the country. Yosef himself alluded to this interpretation of Pharaoh's dream when he said to his brothers, "Get your father and your families and bring them to me. I will give you the best of the land of Egypt and they shall eat the fat of the land" (45:18). 

Moreover, by the time of the Exodus the Jewish People had almost entirely assimilated into Egyptian culture. The Jews worshiped Egyptian gods (Rashi to Shemos 12:6) and they even looked like Egyptians, "both were uncircumcised, both grew their hair long, both wore shatnez..." (Shir HaShirim Rabba 2:6). It follows that thin cows eating fat cows symbolizes penniless Egyptianized Jews plundering Egypt of all its wealth (12:35-36). Nonetheless, just like the skinny cows in the dream, the Jews remain thin. Hashem starved them in the desert before feeding them Mannah (16:3), and the heavenly Manna had zero fat. (The body absorbed Mannah without producing any waste, Yoma 75b). Only later in the land of Israel do we find that "Yeshurun grew fat and kicked" (Devarim 32:15). The dream is thus a vision of the Chosen Nation living up to its mandate, remaining "thin" and recognizing its dependence on God, despite newfound wealth, independence and the heady illusion of power. 

The thin "Jewish cows" might also indicate that the Jews are exempt from paying for the material and financial damage they inflicted on Egypt. When an animal inflicts damage, payment is collected מגופו, from its own body (Shemos 21:35). In the event that the damager has no value, it is exempt from payment. A skinny, worthless cow will thus not provide compensation for the damage that it inflicts, and in the case of the Jews of Egypt, this is perfectly just. Although the Jews did bespoil Egypt when they left, when you factor in all the years of enslavement, the Jews got the worse end of the deal (cf. Sanhedrin 91a). The description of the thin cows as דלות, "poor" (Bereishis 41:19), can now be taken literally, and we have a new interpretation of the dream: the skinny cows (the Jews) ate the fat cows (the wealth of Egypt), but yet the Jews remained poor - the spoils of Egypt was insufficient compensation for the centuries of enslavement.

Alternatively, cows rising out of the river may refer not to the Jewish nation, but to Yosef. Yosef appeared Egyptian (cf. Bereishis 42:8 where his own brothers don't recognize him) and was called an "ox" (Bereishis 49:6; Devarim 33:17). As Egypt fell and the Jews departed, Moshe used the expression "Rise, Ox!" to bring up Yosef's body from the river bed (Rashi to Shemos 32:4). The idea of the cows representing Yosef is further bolstered by the fact that Yosef and the cows are both described in the exact same way, יפה תאר ויפא מראה, "of beautiful form and beautiful appearance" (Bereishis 39:6; 41:2,18). We might also add that in the birth order of the sons of Leah and Rochel, Yosef is number seven. 



III

Pharaoh could not grasp the full import of his dreams, nonetheless, he understood enough to make him sweat. On the one hand, his second dream may signify a second devastating famine. If true, he needs to enslave the Jews to work the fields and build granaries. On the other hand, his dreams might mean that the Jews will destroy and despoil Egypt. If that is the dream's meaning, he must act to defeat destiny, defend his country, and exterminate the Jews. Unsure which interpretation is correct, Pharaoh does both. First he enslaves the Jews to prepare the granaries. After that is complete, he moves on to the final solution: drowning the Jews in the river.  

In a delicious divine comedy, Pharaoh's attempt to destroy the Jews is what ultimately destroys Egypt and saves the Jews. Due to her father's evil decree, Pharaoh's daughter finds a Jewish baby in the river, and the rest is history. In retrospect, the mysterious skinny cows which Pharaoh saw destroying his country may in fact symbolize the leader of the Jews, Moshe. Pharaoh's daughter named him "Moshe" because, like the cows, she "drew him out of the water" (2:10; משה=משיתיהו). The rise of the Jewish Nation and the destruction of Egypt thus emerges from the Nile - as prophesied by Pharaoh's dreams. In fulfillment of the vision of cows eating cows, the Torah tells us that Moshe looked like an "Egyptian man" (2:19), and in the vision of the Egyptian astrologers, it is impossible to tell if the redeemer is Jew or Egyptian (Rashi 1:22). Tellingly, when the Jews desire to find a replacement for Moshe, they forge a Golden Calf. We might also add that Moshe is the seventh generation in line from Avraham and was born (and died) on the seventh day of Adar.

Pharaoh's first response to his dreams was to release Yosef from prison and elevate him to the highest position in the Kingdom. It was a desperate move. Pharaoh did it because he was delighted with Yosef's positive spin on his nightmare, but little did Pharaoh know that the monster in his nightmare was none other than Yosef himself. In the short term Yosef's interpretation provided relief and seemed to put the dreams to rest, but in the long term it led to his brothers moving to Egypt and ultimately to the destruction of Egypt - as prophesied by the dreams.

As he saw in his dream, Pharaoh stands by the Nile the entire time, watching helplessly as Egypt is destroyed by his own errors of leadership. To his eternal dismay, Pharaoh can only fault himself for first accepting Yosef's interpretation and then recklessly ignoring it and reinterpreting his dream. Dreams follow their interpretation, but Pharaoh's dreams have a life of their own: whatever he does, the dreams adjust and destroy. Pharaoh is not only a passive observer; he is God's puppet, compelled by God-given nightmares to destroy his country with his own hands.   


This too is foretold by the dream. The most basic and frightening feature of the dreams is cannibalization. The reason the skinny cows remain skinny after eating the fat cows is because they are the very same cows! Egypt consumes itself. Pharaoh is his own worst enemy - and it is his own dreams which drive him to self-destruct. In the end, the seven skinny cows coming out of the Nile refer to all the drivers that destroy Egypt: Yosef and Moshe, the Jews, the Egyptians, and Pharaoh himself.

As a postscript, we should point out the fascinating parallel to the dreams of Yosef. Frightened and jealous of Yosef's dreams, his brothers decided to eliminate him. "Let's kill him and throw him into one of the pits... and we will see what will become of his dreams!" (37:20). But Hashem saw to it that their attempt to wreak Yosef's dreams is what brought about their fruition. The brothers' sale of Yosef into slavery is what makes Yosef king and ultimately dooms the brothers to slavery (cf. Shabbos 10b) - the very things they were trying to prevent! Pharaoh suffered the same tragedy. The battle he waged against the nightmare that haunted him is what made it all come true.


Hashem works in mysterious ways, but sometimes he lets us watch the show.