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Towards the beginning of Parashat Vaera, God orders Moshe to transmit to Benei Yisrael a promise that has become known as the "four expressions of redemption": "Say, therefore, to Benei Yisrael: I am God. I will free you (ve-hotzeiti) from the labors of the Egyptians and deliver you (ve-hitzalti) from their bondage. I will redeem you (ve-ga'alti) with an outstretched arm and through extraordinary chastisements. And I will take you (ve-lakachti) to be My people… " (6:6-7).

The Yerushalmi in Masekhet Pesachim (10:1) posits that it was based on these four terms that Chazal instituted the requirement to drink four cups of wine at the seder. Actually, Rav Menachem Kasher (in his "miluim" to the Torah Sheleima on Parashat Vaera) notes over twenty different reasons for the four cups that appear in traditional sources. Nevertheless, undoubtedly the four expressions used by God at the beginning of Parashat Vaera are generally assumed to be the basis for this obligation.

The question, of course, arises, why did Chazal find it appropriate - and even necessary - to establish a mitzva commemorating these four expressions in God's promise to Benei Yisrael? On Pesach we celebrate the Exodus, the actual redemption. Why must we recall God's reassurance to the people?

To better appreciate the significance of the promise commemorated through the four cups, let us look at the verses immediately preceding these four expressions: "… I am God. I appeared to Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov… I also established My covenant with them, to give them the land of Canaan… I have now heard the moaning of Benei Yisrael because the Egyptians are holding them in bondage, and I have remembered My covenant." The four expressions of redemption thus describe the fulfillment of God's oath to the patriarchs. Rashi explains, "Say, therefore - based on that oath [to the patriarchs] - I am God - trustworthy in My promise." The reassurance conveyed through these expressions stems specifically from the Almighty's oath to the forefathers that these promises reaffirm.

This, perhaps, explains the commemoration of the four cups of wine: the reliability of God's promise. At the seder we declare that the Almighty's oath to the patriarchs is itself "something to drink about," a reason for celebration. Whereas in Egypt this promise was greeted by the embittered slaves with skepticism, to say the least - "They did not listen to Moshe (6:9) - at the seder we drink in celebration of this promise, expressing our firm belief that God fulfills His covenant to our ancestors.

On this basis, we can perhaps suggest a reason for the common practice of raising our cups of wine as we sing "Ve-hi she-amda" at the seder. The immediately preceding paragraph reads, "Blessed is the One who kept His promise to Avraham Avinu… ," referring to the "berit bein ha-betarim" where the Almighty promised Avraham to redeem his offspring from exile and bring them to Eretz Yisrael. We then declare, "Ve-hi she-amda la-avotenu ve-lanu" - it was this promise that has allowed Am Yisrael to withstand generations of persecution and still survive. As we make this declaration, we raise our cups of wine, the cups we drink in celebration of God's promise, expressing our firm belief in its ultimate fulfillment.

The four cups of wine, then, convey to us a most powerful message: no matter what happens, we have God's eternal promise of redemption. Even as the darkness of exile thickens and the flame of hope begins to flicker, the Almighty's covenant to Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov remains firm.

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Before we read of the ten plagues in Parashat Vaera, the Torah first presents a brief genealogical record of the tribes of Reuven, Shimon and Levi (6:14-25). While we generally tend to give little attention to these name listings, at times they provide information that proves critical in our understanding of Biblical history and chronology.

Rashi (in Bereishit 15:13 and Shemot 12:40), as well as other commentators, use the data presented here in Parashat Vaera to help calculate the duration of the Egyptian bondage. Whereas the verse in Parashat Bo informs us that Benei Yisrael spent 430 years in Egypt, Rashi demonstrates from our parasha that this is clearly not the case. This presentation identifies Kehat as the grandfather of Moshe Rabbeinu (6:16,18,20). Now earlier, in Parashat Vayigash, the Torah includes Kehat among the seventy members of Yaakov's household who migrated from Canaan to Egypt (Bereishit 46:11). For Benei Yisrael to have spent 430 years in Egypt, this amount of time must have passed from Kehat's arrival in Egypt to the eightieth year of his grandson, who at that age led the slaves to freedom (Shemot 7:7). Given that Kehat lived a total of 133 years, and his son, Amram (Moshe's father), lived only 137 years, this is clearly a mathematical impossibility. Virtually all the commentators therefore accept the view of the Mekhilta (which is implied as well by the Septuagint - see Masekhet Megila 9b) that the 430 years began more or less at the time of the "berit bein habetarim" (God's covenant with Avraham in Bereishit 15). (There are several different variations of this general approach; iy"H we will devote a S.A.L.T. to this topic in next week's series.)

The lone exception is the Shadal, who insists that Benei Yisrael spent 430 years in Egypt, as the verse in Parashat Bo indicates. He refutes the aforementioned proof by claiming that the Torah omitted from its listing in Parashat Vaera several interim generations. In fact, he brings what appears to be convincing proof for his argument. In Parashat Vaera, the Torah enumerates only eight grandsons of Levi: Livni, Shimi, Amram (Moshe's father), Yitzhar, Chevron, Uziel, Machli and Mushi. This generation, which included Moshe's father, obviously preceded the Exodus by only one generation (as Moshe, Amram's son, led the slaves to freedom). Now in Sefer Bemidbar 3:39 we learn that in the year following the Exodus the tribe of Levi numbered 22,000 men. How could the tribe have grown from eight to 22,000 in a single generation?! Clearly, then, there must have been several generations omitted from the Torah's genealogical listing. Thus, we have no reason to reinterpret the verse in Parashat Bo that records Benei Yisrael's 430-year stay in Egypt.

Rav Yaakov Medan (Ram at Yeshivat Har Etzion) published an article some years ago in which he refuted this argument of the Shadal. Rav Medan argues quite simply that the Torah's listing does, in fact, mention every generation, but it records only the more important members of each generation. In Bereishit 48:6, Yaakov tells Yosef that although his two sons, Efrayim and Menashe, will form two independent tribes, any younger brothers born to Yosef will be included under their tribes, rather than forming additional tribes. Based on this precedent, it stands to reason that only the older or "primary" brothers were listed as "heads of families" (see Shemot 6:14). In truth, Levi had many more than eight grandchildren, but only the most prominent among them earned mention in the text. Rav Medan adds that the Torah never mentions any children born to tribes other than those listed in Parashat Vayigash as among those who descended to Egypt. Yet, most of the twelve brothers were still at a young, childbearing age, and we have no reason to believe that they stopped begetting children upon their arrival in Egypt. (Case in point, Levi himself had a daughter, Yokheved, in Egypt - Bemidbar 26:59.) Quite clearly, then, there were many brothers in each generation not mentioned by name in the Torah's genealogical record here in Parashat Vaera, as they were subsumed under their brothers' families. No generations *****

The concluding verses of Parashat Vaera tell of the seventh plague, that of hail. After Pharaoh once again promises to set the slaves free, Moprays to the Almighty and the storm immediatecomes to a halt: "Leaving Pharaoh, Moshe went outside the city and spread out his hands to God: the thunder and the hail ceased, and no rain came pouring down upon the earth" (9:33). Chazal (Berakhot 54b), cited by Rashi in his commentary to this verse, explain that even the raindrops that had already begun making their way from the sky froze in midair. What purpose did this miracle serve? It is generally assumed that God does not overturn the rules of nature - including gravity, presumably - without reason. What message did He convey through the airborne suspension of these raindrops?

Rav Moshe Feinstein zt"l (Kol Ram, vol. 2, p.66) suggests a beautiful answer. In several different places in halakhic and Midrashic literature we find the dictum of "ve-halakhta bi-drakhav," that we must emulate the Almighty's conduct. Just as He deals graciously and compassionately with His creatures, so must we. It stands to reason, Rav Moshe suggests, that God's conduct in Egypt is intended for us to emulate. (Incidentally, this would perhaps explain why this miracle does not appear explicitly in the text. The story of the Exodus as recorded in the Torah relates the punishment suffered by the Egyptians on account of their arrogant disobedience of God's command. In this account, there is no reason to mention this specific miracle of the suspension of the raindrops. The Midrash, however, often draws general lessons from verses in totally unrelated contexts.) By bringing the hailstorm to an immediate and absolute halt, God instructs us as to the true meaning of obedience. We are to obey His commands the way He answered Moshe's prayer. Moshe prays for the end of the storm, and the Almighty responds by instantly freezing the entire system; His compliance, as it were, is total and absolute. True, it would have made no difference whether or not those raindrops hit the ground - but this is exactly what the Almighty wanted to teach us. When it comes to mitzva observance, we obey unconditionally and disregard our own intuition. Although many sages have encouraged the study of "ta'amei ha-mitzvot," the underlying reasoning behind mitzvot, our conclusions cannot affect our practical observance of the Torah's laws. As God strictly "obeyed" Moshe's decree, so must we abide by God's word.

Rav Moshe does not mention the "Mishnat Rabbi Eliezer" (19), one Midrashic source for the rain's suspension in midair. The passage there concludes, "The Almighty performed these wonders for us only for us to relate and discuss in every generation… " At first glance, this Midrash appears to negate any particular reason for this miracle; it occurred simply for us to describe as an expression of the Almighty's power. Rav Moshe's analysis, then, would be superfluous. Upon further reflection, however, we may suggest that to the contrary, ideas such as the one discussed are precisely what we are to "relate and discuss." The Midrash notes that this miracle served no practical purpose as part of the Exodus story; it is merely for us to discuss in future generations. It stands to reason that this "discussion" involves the particular message conveyed through this wonder, such as the one developed by Rav Moshe.

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After the fourth plague, that of "arov" (wild beasts), Pharaoh summons Moshe and offers to allow the Hebrew slaves to worship God in Egypt, rather than setting them free. Moshe rejects the offer, explaining that their worship of God involves the sacrifice of the Egyptian deity (the sheep). Surely, Moshe claims, the Egyptian population will respond violently should they witness their slaves performing this sacrilege! Pharaoh accepts this argument and agrees to allow Benei Yisrael to travel a short distance into the wilderness to sacrifice to God (Shemot 21-24). Of course, as soon as the plague came to an end, Pharaoh refuses to release the slaves.

The question arises, what kind of argument does Moshe pose before the king? If Egypt has been sufficiently subdued after four devastating plagues that they acquiesce to God's demand, why would they dare assault Benei Yisrael when they sacrifice sheep? Now that Pharaoh is prepared to allow Benei Yisrael to worship, why would the populace respond violently? Perhaps even more troubling, Pharaoh accepts Moshe's argument and - at least at that point - grants the slaves permission to leave!

The Chatam Sofer answers by reinterpreting Moshe's claim. Moshe here does not express concern for the welfare of his constituents, but, to the contrary, he shows sensitivity to the religious sentiments of the Egyptians. Undoubtedly, at that point the Egyptians would not realistically consider attacking their former slaves. They would, however, very much desire to do so. Such an overt offense to their belief system would cause them great distress and anguish, something that Moshe sensitively wishes to avoid. Pharaoh thus agrees to let the slaves leave.

One may raise several objections to this approach; for one thing, many sources indicate that the korban pesach ritual was meant as a public rejection of Egyptian paganism. But in any event, it is of paramount significance that the Chatam Sofer attributes to Moshe Rabbenu this level of sensitivity for Am Yisrael's oppressors. Although they deserve to be punished, and punished severely, the emotional trauma of observing an outright offense to their strongly-held beliefs was unwarranted.

In one of his addresses to his students, the late Rav Avraham Pam zt"l (esteemed Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshivat Torah Ve-da'at in Brooklyn, NY) derived from this explanation of the Chatam Sofer an important principle concerning sensible and sensitive conduct. One must exercise discretion and sound judgment when deciding how to act in the presence of others, even - or especially - when it comes to matters of religious observance. In the very opening halakha in the Shulchan Arukh, the Rema writes unequivocally that one must observe Torah and mitzvot regardless of what those around him will think or say. Embarrassment and peer pressure do not excuse one from his religious responsibilities. By the same token, Rav Pam emphasized, matters involving added stringency not specifically required by halakha require careful consideration. A person who wishes to take on laudable but optional modes of stringent conduct must not do so at the expense of the feelings of others. The Sefer Chassidim, for example, rules that one may not observe personal fast days for spiritual elevation if this would cause his parents distress. One must carefully weigh all factors and considerations when engaging in religious activity that potentially affects others.

Rav Pam applied this principle in the opposite direction, as well. He tells that his maternal grandfather, Rav Shimon Dov Analik, who was of Lithuanian persuasion, served as a rabbi in a Polish community consisting of many chassidim. Although he personally did not accept the chassidic stringency of refraining from soaked matza ("gebrokts") on Pesach, he ate it only in private so as not to offend the sensitivities of the chassidim in his town.

The Chatam Sofer teaches that at times personal conduct in the presence of others can be as harmful as direct insults. We must therefore exercise sound judgment even with regard to matters not directly affecting those around us, as often times they do affect others, if only indirectly.

(Based on The Pleasant Way by Rabbi Shalom Smith, pp.83-85.)

*****

Anyone who has ever read Parashat Vaera, or who has learned the basic story of the Exodus, knows about the cycle that repeated itself several times before Benei Yisrael finally left Egypt. Moshe and Aharon warn Pharaoh of an impending plague should he refuse to let the slaves free. The king refuses, suffers the plague and expresses a change of heart, and Moshe then brings the plague to a halt. Pharaoh returns to his hard-line stance, and the cycle repeats itself once again.

The Midrash (Shemot Rabba 12:9) writes that this unstable conduct exhibited by Pharaoh is characteristic of the wicked in general: "So are thewicked: so long as they are in trouble, they subdue themselves. Once the trouble passes, they returnto their corrupt behavior. Similarly, Nevuchadnetzar [the Babylonian king who destroyed the Temple] would praise the Almighty when he was in trouble… but once he found himself in a position of greatness, he began priding himself… Pharaoh acted this way, as well: 'When Pharaoh saw that the rain and the hail and the thunder had ceased, he continued sinning… (Shemot 9:34).'"

While the message of this Midrash is clear, its choice of an example is not. Why does the Midrash point specifically to Pharaoh's reaction to the end of the seventh plague, that of hail, as exemplifying his instability? Haven't we encountered his change of heart several times over throughout this parasha? What is unique about Pharaoh's reaction to this plague that renders it particularly characteristic of religious intransigence?

Some have suggested that after the plague of hail, we find mention for the first time of the hardening of the hearts of Pharaoh's courtiers (9:34). Until now, the Torah records only Pharaoh's obstinate disobedience, perhaps suggesting that he alone refused to bend, while his royal attendants had been convinced by God's might. This verse, however, clearly indicates that the heart-hardening malady was not limited to Pharaoh alone; his servants shared his zigzagging reaction to the miraculous events, thus serving as an example of this common characteristic of the wicked.

We may, however, suggest a different interpretation, one which focuses on Pharaoh's temporary feeling of remorse triggered by the devastation wrought by the hail. The king summons Moshe and Aharon and exclaims, "This time I have sinned; God is the righteous One, and I and my nation are the wicked ones" (9:27). Although Pharaoh had previously promised to free the slaves and then reversed his decision, he had never before uttered a confession. Whereas in earlier instances Pharaoh concedes defeat, here, for the first time, he confesses wrongdoing. This, perhaps, is what the Midrash seeks to emphasize. Many or most people, not just the wicked, tend to experience changes of heart and fail to follow through on commitments. This can perhaps be excused as a basic frailty from which many human beings often suffer. The wicked, however, are capable of regressing from genuine feelings of repentance to defiance and corruption. These are the ways of the wicked.

The Mekhilta (in Parashat Beshalach) writes that Pharaoh and the Egyptians earned burial in reward for their confession, "God the righteous One." Similarly, the Mekhilta De-rashbi claims that in this merit God prohibited Benei Yisrael from harboring resentment towards the Egyptians (Devarim 27:8). Apparently, the sense of remorse expressed in this confession was sincere. Yet, the Midrash tells, the wicked fail to act upon these feelings and carry them through. They allow these moments of achievement to vanish without a trace, rather than using them as a starting point for further growth and development. The righteous, by contrast, exhibit the precisely opposite pattern. Though at times they may falter and err, they quickly reverse the trend and move themselves forward. While Pharaoh managed to retreat from his progress towards repentance, we must do just opposite - quickly reverse directions when we begin to fall, thereby ensuring our constant spiritual growth and progress.

*****

Forewarning Pharaoh of the imminent plague of hail, Moshe declares in the Name of God, "Let My people go… For this time I will send all My plagues upon your person, and your courtiers and your people… " (9:13-14). Rashi comments on this verse, "From here we learn that the plague of the firstborn was equivalent to all the other plagues." For centuries, scholars have attempted to understand what Rashi could have possibly meant in this statement. Hail was plague number seven; the plague of the firstborn, number ten. How could we derive anything concerning the final plague from God's warning regarding the seventh? How could "I will send all My plagues" possibly refer to the tenth and final of the plagues? Why would Moshe speak of the smiting of the firstborn now, as he predicts the hail?

Two general directions have been taken to this issue. Most later writers claimed the intrusion of an erroneous manuscript into widely circulated editions of Rashi's commentary, or some other textual or grammatical error that gave rise to the confusion. Another approach seeks to resolve Rashi's comments as they appear in our texts. Today we will look at some suggestions of the first type, while tomorrow we will study the second category of solutions.

The claim of an incorrect manuscript or punctuation comes in three forms, as recorded by Rav Menachem Kasher, in his supplements to "Torah Sheleima" on Parashat Vaera (no. 18). The most prevalent resolution, cited by Rav Eliyahu Mizrachi and several Ba'alei Tosefot, is to suggest a different punctuation, such that the word "bekhorot" (firstborn) becomes "bakurot," the feminine form of "bikkurim," or first fruits. Rashi refers to the hail as "the plague of the first fruits" because, as the verses clearly state (9:31-32), the storm destroyed specifically the newly blossomed vegetation. Stalks that had grown well in advance of the hail withstood the harsh storm.

A second theory, cited by the Abarbanel, the Rosh (in "Hadar Zekeinim") and others based on earlier manuscripts, claims that the word "bekhorot" was originally written as, "batzoret," or drought. Rashi thus intended that the absence of agricultural produce, as caused by the hail, was the most severe plague of all, which equaled in severity all nine others.

A third, perhaps more straightforward explanation along these lines argues, quite simply, that Rashi had actually written "makat barad" (the plague of hail), but copiers mistakenly wrote, "makat bekhorot" (the plague of the firstborn). Several sources claim that the confusion arose from the initials "mem - bet," which had stood for "makat barad" but were mistakenly read - and hence copied - as "makat bekhorot." This theory is cited by the Chida, in his "Nachal Kedumim." Rav Kasher himself expresses his preference for this view based on the simple fact that the only Midrashic source on which Rashi could have based his comment is the Midrash Ha-gadol on our verse. There the Midrash clearly writes, "the plague of hail is equivalent to all ten plagues."

The Maharal of Prague (in his "Gur Aryeh"), however, raises two convincing objections against rereading Rashi's comment as referring to the plague of hail. Firstly, in his commentary to Shemot 4:23, Rashi himself writes that the plague of the firstborn "is severe," and from context it seems clear that he means, "the most severe." How, then, could Rashi suddenly change his mind and consider hail the most devastating of the ten plagues? Secondly, the Maharal argues, if we view the plague of hail of the most severe of the plagues, it turns out that the most severe plague did not prompt Pharaoh to set the slaves free, whereas a "milder" plague, the smiting of the firstborn, did. Clearly, he writes, such a notion is inconceivable.

Tomorrow, iy"H, we will look at possible solutions that maintain the authenticity of our texts, such as the answer advanced by the Maharal himself.

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Yesterday we discussed the problematic comment by Rashi regarding God's warning to Pharaoh heralding the plague of hail, "For this time I will send all My plagues… " (9:14). Rashi derives from this verse that "the plague of hail was equivalent to all the other plagues." The difficulty in this comment is obvious: God here forewarns the plague of hail, not the smiting of the firstborn. How can Rashi understand this verse as referring to makat bekhorot (the plague of the firstborn)?

One explanation is offered (though in slightly different variations) by the Rosh (in "Hadar Zekeinim"), Rav Ovadya of Bartenura, and the Maharal of Prague (as the first of his two approaches, in his "Gur Aryeh"). This approach reads this verse as directly associated with the vethat follow: "I could have stretched forth My hand and stricken you and your people with pestilence, and you would have been effaced from the earth. I have spared you for this purpose: in order to show you My power, and in order that My fame may resound throughout the world" (9:15-16). According to these commentators, we must read verse 14, which speaks of "all My plagues," as introducing these two verses. God here impresses upon Pharaoh that He has the ability to bring upon the final plague, the smiting of the firstborn, immediately. He has delayed doing so, choosing to first unleash less severe plagues, in order to keep Pharaoh alive and thereby have His fame "'resound throughout the world." Thus, Moshe makes reference to the plague of the firstborn even as he warns of the seventh plague, the plague of hail.

The Maharal posits yet another theory, as well, building on the famous classification of the ten plagues into the three groups of "detzakh, adash, be-achav," as established by Rabbi Yehuda, cited in the Haggadah. The Maharal claims that each group represents a different stage in the process of God's demonstration of His power. The first three plagues (blood, frogs and vermin), he claims, occurred throughout Egypt, even in the regions inhabited by Benei Yisrael. (The Maharal does not note the considerable controversy surrounding this very issue. The Ibn Ezra indeed makes such a claim, for which he was sharply criticized by the Radbaz, in his reponsa - 813. The Radbaz insists that it is "forbidden" to consider such a notion, than any of the ten plagues affected Benei Yisrael's territory.) The second group of plagues, however, affected only the Egyptians, as recorded explicitly in the Chumash, more overtly reflecting God's hand punishing the Egyptians. The final group of plagues - hail, locusts, darkness and the smiting of the firstborn - is characterized by these plagues' having been unprecedented in historical annals, as the Torah emphasizes with regard to each (9:24; 10:14; 11:6; although so such comment is mentioned in the context of the plague of darkness, the Maharal implies that it was unnecessary, as quite clearly total darkness has never overtaken the earth for three full days). Thus, these final four plagues mark the most explicit exhibition of divine power, as they brought upon a fundamental deviation from the natural order.

It turns out, then, that the plague of hail introduced an entirely new stage in the process of Egypt's recognition of God. It should not surprise us, then, that Moshe would make reference to the plague of the firstborn amidst his warning concerning the hail, since with this plague God initiates the final stage of judgment against Pharaoh and Egypt.

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