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PARASHAT BESHALACH

By Rav David Silverberg

            Parashat Beshalach features the famous shirat ha-yam, the song of praise sung by Benei Yisrael after the miracle of the splitting of the sea.  This song contains the famous verse, "Zeh Keli ve-anveihu," which is generally translated to mean, "This is my God – and I shall glorify Him!" (15:2).  Targum Onkelos, however, translates this phrase differently, as a reference to the Beit Ha-mikdash: "This is My God – and I shall build for Him a Temple."  As Rashi explains, Onkelos associated the word ve-anveihu with the Hebrew word naveh, which is generally interpreted to mean "pasture."  He thus understood the term as a reference to the solemn, serene atmosphere of the Beit Ha-mikdash which may be likened to a peaceful, rural landscape.

            Rashi himself, however, suggests a different interpretation of this word, associating it with the term noi, or "beauty."  According to this interpretation, Benei Yisrael here declare, "I shall tell of His glory and His praises to those who walk on earth."

            Rav Moshe Feinstein (Kol Ram, vol. 3) suggested (al derekh derush) that these two interpretations may not necessarily represent two distinct and unrelated approaches to the word ve-anveihu, and might rather represent two mutually dependent aspects of the same theme.   Even according to Onkelos' definition of the word, it refers to serving and giving praise to God – which is, after all, among the basic functions of the Beit Ha-mikdash.  Rashi's interpretation of ve-anveihu serves to remind us that constructing a Beit Ha-mikdash does not independently suffice to bring glory to the Almighty; one must utilize the Mikdash properly for this purpose.  If Benei Yisrael truly wish to "glorify" God, they must construct a Mikdash and then ensure to visit it, support it, respect it, and, most of all, use it in the proper manner and with the proper intentions.

            Rav Moshe applied this message to religious institutions generally, emphasizing that building synagogues and yeshivot is but the first stage – albeit the critical first stage – in our nation's efforts to serve the Almighty.  Communities must be reminded that even after these institutions are built and securely funded, they will not be successful unless the people use them and look to them for guidance and inspiration.  If our goal is truly ve-anveihu, to bring honor and glory to the Name of God, then we must not only "build a Mikdash," establish religious institutions, but also, as Rashi explained, "tell of His glory and His praises," make use of these institutions as places of sincere avodat Hashem.

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            Parashat Beshalach tells of the manna, the miraculous food that descended each morning from the heavens to sustain Benei Yisrael during their sojourn through the wilderness.  We read that after the manna's initial descent, there were those among Benei Yisrael who disobeyed Moshe's command not to leave any for the following day, and when they awoke the next morning, they discovered that the leftover portion had rotted and spoiled (16:20).

            On the simplest level, this quality of the manna, that it would spoil when left over until the following morning (except on Shabbat), was intended to ensure Benei Yisrael's sense of dependence on God each day.  Since the manna became inedible after a single day, Benei Yisrael went to sleep each night without any food for the following day, an experience which, over the course of time, undoubtedly engendered within them a firm sense of trust in God's ability to provide a means of sustenance.  This lesson was critical for the people to learn before crossing into Eretz Yisrael and developing an agricultural infrastructure.  Before they could become "self-reliant" and eat the fruits of their own efforts, they had to first undergo the manna experience which reinforced their realization of man's absolute dependence on the Almighty for even his most basic needs.

            Some writers, however, pointed to other themes latent within this quality of the manna.  According to Rav Shimshon Refael Hirsch, the spoiling of the manna was intended to teach Benei Yisrael about what happens to ill-begotten fortunes: "The lesson this whole procedure taught for gaining one's livelihood was: that which Man hoards up against God's will in a miserly, property-worshipping, God-denying spirit, God gives over to the worms and it becomes foul."  Attempts at securing a livelihood through forbidden means – such as leaving over manna in direct violation of Moshe's warning – are bound to fail; whatever profits are gained in such a manner will ultimately "rot" rather than bring success and good fortune.

            Rav Shimon Moshe Diskin, in his work Mas'at Moshe, suggests a very different theory to explain the symbolic significance of the leftover manna.  Generally speaking, the more "advanced" creatures spoil more rapidly than the "lesser" creatures.  Inanimate objects, such as stone and metal, do not normally decompose.  Vegetation, which is a "higher" form of existence, spoils over an extended period of time, whereas animal carcasses rot very quickly.  The overnight spoilage of manna, Rav Diskin suggested, was a result of – and thus testament to – its sublime, spiritual nature.  The Sages speak of the manna as the "food of angels," an "otherworldly" substance that sustained Benei Yisrael through entirely spiritual means.  It therefore rotted more quickly than other kinds of foods, regardless of the means of preservation employed.  According to this theory, then, the rapid spoilage of the manna served not to convey a particular message, as Rav Hirsch had explained, but was rather a function of its entirely spiritual nature and fundamentally different essence from all familiar means of sustenance.

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            As we discussed yesterday, the Torah tells in Parashat Beshalach of those who disobeyed Moshe's command not to leave over any manna until the following morning.  When they arose, they discovered that the manna had spoiled: "Va-yarum tola'im va-yiv'ash" – "It grew worms and spoiled" (16:20).

            Rashi, based on the Mekhilta, writes that this verse is written out of proper sequence: the manna first spoiled, and then, as a result of the spoilage, worms appeared.  Even though the Torah first mentions the surfacing of worms (va-yarum tola'im), and only then speaks of the rotting (va-yiv'ash), in truth the exact opposite occurred.

            Rav Moshe Leib Shachor, in his work Avnei Shoham, writes that his father pointed to this remark by Rashi as the basis for a comment of Rabbi Akiva Eiger in his hagahot (glosses) to Masekhet Nazir.  The Gemara (Nazir 4b) establishes that although Shimshon (leader of Israel's struggle against the Pelishtim during the period of the Shofetim) was a nazirite in that he let his hair grow and could not drink wine, he was not required – as ordinary nezirim are – to avoid coming in contact with human corpses.  As proof, the Gemara makes reference to an incident when Shimshon killed thirty Pelishtim in Ashkelon and seized their garments.  The verse (Shofetim 14:19) first mentions his slaying of the thirty men, and only then tells that he seized their clothing, indicating that he removed their clothes after they were already dead, thus proving that Shimshon came in contact with dead bodies.  Rabbi Akiva Eiger briefly comments on this Gemara, "See Rashi's commentary to the Chumash, Shemot 7:20."

Later writers were baffled by this remark of Rabbi Akiva Eiger, as Rashi makes no comment on that verse in Sefer Shemot.  Possibly, as Rav Shachor cites from his father, a printing error occurred and in truth Rabbi Akiva Eiger meant chapter 16, and not chapter 7.  (Bear in mind that the number 16 in Hebrew is represented with the letters tet-zayin, and it is therefore possible that the tet was erroneously omitted from the text, leaving only the letter zayin, which, of course, represents the number 7.)  Rabbi Akiva Eiger perhaps pointed to an inconsistency between Rashi's comment to our verse (16:20) and the Gemara's discussion there in Masekhet Nazir.  If, as Rashi claims, we may occasionally come upon a verse that records events in reverse sequence, then the Gemara has no proof to the fact that Shimshon seized the Pelishtim's garments only after killing them.  Perhaps that verse in Sefer Shofetim, like this verse in Parashat Bo, is written in reverse sequence, and in truth Shimshon first seized the garments before killing the men.

To resolve this difficulty, we might draw upon the explanation given by Rabbi Eliyahu Mizrachi for why the Torah reverses the sequence in this verse concerning the manna.  According to Rabbi Eliyahu Mizrachi, the Torah in this verse narrates the events as they appeared to Benei Yisrael.  Although the manna first spoiled and then attracted worms, the people first saw the worms collecting on and around the manna before the stench became strong enough for them to smell.  Thus, they noticed the worms collecting before they took note of the chemical spoilage, even though in truth the process unfolded in the reverse sequence.

If so, then this verse is not written in reverse chronological sequence; it merely chose to present the events as they unfolded from the perspective of the people, rather than how they unfolded in actuality.  Hence, this comment of Rashi does not set a precedent of "reverse narrative" within a single verse, and the Gemara legitimately deduced from the verse in Sefer Shofetim that Shimshon first killed the Philistine men before seizing their clothing.

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            Towards the beginning of Parashat Beshalach, amidst the Torah's description of Benei Yisrael's departure from Egypt, we read that Moshe took the remains of Yosef with him for burial in the Land of Israel (13:19).  The Mekhilta famously applies to Moshe in this context the comment made by King Shelomo in Sefer Mishlei (10:8), "Chakham leiv yikakh mitzvot" – "The wise-hearted take mitzvot."  This verse, the Mekhilta remarks, demonstrates "the wisdom and piety of Moshe," in that "all Israel were involved in the spoils [of Egypt], while Moshe was involved in the mitzva of the remains of Yosef."

            One might, at first glance, question the Mekhilta's reference to the "wisdom and piety of Moshe" as manifest through his tending to Yosef's burial needs as the rest of the nation was preoccupied with amassing wealth.  True, this certainly demonstrated his "piety," the priority he afforded to mitzvot over material gain.  But in what way did this involvement underscore his "wisdom"?  In truth, this question can be raised regarding the verse in Mishlei cited by the Mekhilta: "The wise-hearted take mitzvot."  Why is the pursuit of mitzvot deemed an expression of one's "wisdom"?

            Rav Avraham Pam (as cited in Rabbi Shalom Smith's Rav Pam on Chumash) suggested reading this comment of the Mekhilta in light of another famous Midrashic passage relevant to the remains of Yosef.  The Yalkut Shimoni (Tehillim 873) comments that when Moshe beckoned the sea the split before Benei Yisrael, it refused; it was only in the merit of Yosef, whose remains were being transported to Eretz Yisrael for burial, that the sea "agreed" to part its waters and allow Benei Yisrael passage.  However one understands the connection between Yosef and the splitting of the sea indicated by this Midrashic passage, it emerges that Moshe's efforts in this regard proved vitally important – to put it mildly – in the process of Benei Yisrael's escape from Egypt.

            In this sense, Rav Pam suggested, Moshe indeed expressed profound "wisdom" in choosing to involve himself in retrieving Yosef's remains for transport rather than join in Benei Yisrael's frenzied accumulation of spoils prior to their departure from Egypt.  This preference indeed reflects not only "piety," but deep "wisdom" and foresight, as well.  Moshe had the wisdom to recognize the value of mitzva observance, and that its value far exceeds that of material wealth.  He understood that although wealth gives a person a sense of security and gratification in the immediate future, these benefits pale in comparison to the long-term benefit of mitzvot.  Moshe's involvement in retrieving Yosef's remains exemplifies how what at first seems like a "foolish" decision, to perform a mitzva at the expense of immense material gain, is ultimately proven to be the right decision.  Making this calculation, of the benefits of mitzvot versus material gain, indeed requires a certain depth in perception, the ability to see beneath the surface and beyond the immediate future.

            Cynics often scoff at the sacrifices that religious observance often entails, and consider it "foolish" to forego on material success for the sake of religious devotion.  In truth, however, it is the "wise-hearted" who "take mitzvot," who recognize that the value of Torah and mitzvot far exceeds anything that the material world has to offer.

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            Yesterday, we cited a comment of the Mekhilta lauding Moshe for caring for the transportation of Yosef's remains while the rest of Benei Yisrael were preoccupied with the accumulation of spoils from Egypt: "all Israel were involved in the spoils [of Egypt], while Moshe was involved in the mitzva of the remains of Yosef."  It is hard not to detect in this remark an element of criticism of Benei Yisrael.  Although the Mekhilta clearly focuses on the greatness of Moshe as manifest in his preference to involve himself in a mitzva, it also appears to criticize the rest of the nation for their disproportionate focus on collecting spoils, which blinded them to other pressing matters that demanded attention.

            Interestingly, however, the Mekhilta De-Rashbi (as opposed to the standard Mekhilta, which was composed by Rabbi Yishmael) expresses a different view, based on a verse towards the end of Sefer Yehoshua (24:32): "And Yosef's bones, which the Israelites had brought from Egypt, they buried in Shekhem."  This verse credits the entire nation, and not just Moshe, for the transportation of Moshe's bones, suggesting that they were somehow involved in this process.  The Mekhilta De-Rashbi explains:

Perhaps had Moshe not involved himself [in transporting Yosef's bones] Israel would not have involved themselves in it?   The verse thus states, "And Yosef's bones, which the Israelites had brought from Egypt, they buried in Shekhem."  This teaches that they had intended to bring it out [of Egypt], but when Israel saw that Moshe was involving himself in it, they said, "Let him [do it]; he [Yosef] is honored through the great ones more so than by the minor ones."

According to this view, Benei Yisrael were just as eager and willing to involve themselves in this mitzva as Moshe, but they allowed Moshe to tend to this matter himself as this brought greater honor to Yosef.

            These two perspectives on Benei Yisrael's attitude towards this mitzva at the time of the Exodus perhaps reflect a certain tension that occasionally arises between religious zeal and humility.  Although zeal and zealousness in the performance of mitzvot is a critical value in religious life, there are situations where the zealous desire to perform a mitzva expresses arrogance.  Delivering a regular Talmud class is certainly a great mitzva, but in a community of learned men it might be somewhat impudent for an ordinary member to offer his services in this regard.  Similar situations commonly arise concerning the role of chazan and other positions that involve – besides the performance of a great mitzva – a degree of honor and stature.  Just as it is generally praiseworthy for a person to zealously pursue opportunities to fulfill mitzvot, so must one know when to refrain from stepping into shoes that are too large for his feet, even in contexts involving a mitzva.

            The debate between the Mekhilta of Rabbi Yishmael and the Mekhilta of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai likely involves the simple question of what actually happened, whether or not Benei Yisrael gave any thought to Yosef's burial as they made their preparations to leave Egypt.  Alternatively, however, these two views perhaps agree that Benei Yisrael withdrew from this mitzva in deference to Moshe, and not due to their lust for wealth, but disagree in their assessment of this decision.  According to Rabbi Yishmael, this was a situation that demanded zeal and active involvement, and not humble withdrawal.  If so, then this debate represents the "grey areas" that we occasionally confront, where it is not entirely clear which is the proper approach to take.  In any event, careful thought and consideration is required to determine when a person should step forward with confident fervor and resolve to assume responsibility, and when he is best advised to stay back and allow other, more qualified candidates take on the given task.

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            The Gemara in Masekhet Berakhot (48b) tells that when the manna first descended to feed Benei Yisrael in the wilderness, Moshe instituted the recitation of the first berakha of birkat ha-mazon.  He ordained that this berakha be recited when one completes his "meal" of manna to give thanks to God for providing sustenance.

            The Sefer Ha-chasidim, as cited by several later writers, held that Benei Yisrael recited as well a berakha before partaking of the manna.  The text of that berakha, he wrote, was, interestingly enough, "Barukh Ata…ha-motzi lechem min ha-shamayim" ("Blessed are You…who brings forth bread from the heavens").  According to the Sefer Ha-chasidim, just as we recite a berakha before eating ordinary bread thanking God for "bringing forth bread from the ground," so did Benei Yisrael give praise to God in the wilderness for bringing forth bread "from the heavens."

            A number of later writers, however, disagreed with this assumption of the Sefer Ha-chasidim.  An interesting argument is advanced by Rav Aharon Lewin, in his Birkat Aharon (a work on Masekhet Berakhot), where he claims that reciting a berakha before eating manna is inconsistent with the nature and definition of the obligation of berakha rishona.  The Gemara in Masekhet Berakhot (35a) comments, "It is forbidden to derive benefit from this world without [reciting] a berakha."  The obligation of berakha rishona requires reciting a berakha before "deriving benefit from this world."  When Benei Yisrael ate the manna, they did not derive benefit from "this world," as the manna originated from the heavens, and, as such, they were not required to recite a berakha.

            One may, however, argue that to the contrary, the heavenly origins of the manna are even more of a reason to require the recitation of a berakha.  That same Gemara in Masekhet Berakhot establishes the obligation to recite a berakha before eating on the basis of two conflicting passages in Tehillim.  One verse (24:1) states that "the earth and its fill are the Lord's," indicating that everything on earth belongs to the Almighty, whereas a later verse (115:16) declares, "The heavens, the heavens are the Lord's, while the earth He has given to human beings."  The Gemara reconciles these verses by claiming that before one recites a berakha, the food he holds in his hand belongs to the Almighty, and once he recites a berakha it becomes his property, so-to-speak.  If this is true about "the land and its fill," that it belongs to the Almighty before one recites a berakha, then all the more so, it would seem, heavenly assets such as manna must be first "acquired" through the recitation of a berakha.

            The question regarding the recitation of a berakha before eating the manna was raised by a number of authorities with regard to the practical issue concerning bread baked from grain that had grown in a flowerpot (atzitz she-eino nakuv).  Since this bread cannot be said to have emerged "min ha-aretz," from the ground, the question arises as to whether one recites the standard berakha of ha-motzi lechem min ha-aretz over such bread.  The Chayei Adam (51:17, and in Nishmat Adam 152) reasons that just as Benei Yisrael did not recite this berakha over the manna, because it did not grow from the ground, so can one not recite ha-motzi over bread made with grain grown in a flowerpot.  In his view, one recites borei minei mezonot over this kind of bread.  Many other authorities, however, disagreed, and held that even over such bread one recites ha-motzi lechem min ha-aretz, and this seems to be the consensus among recent poskim (see Piskei Teshuvot, 204:2).

(Sources taken from the compendium Ke-motzei Shalal Rav)

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            Among the more famous verses in the Shirat Ha-yam, the song of praise sung Benei Yisrael after crossing the Sea of Reeds, is the declaration, "Zeh Keli ve-anveihu," which, as we discussed earlier this week, is generally translated as, "This is My God, and I shall glorify him" (15:2).  A well-known passage in Masekhet Shabbat (133a) explains that ve-anveihu refers specifically to the enhancement of mitzva performance by ensuring the aesthetic quality of mitzva articles.  Thus, for example, one should make a point of using a beautiful set of arba minim and sukka on Sukkot, to read from an aesthetically pleasing Torah scroll, wear a comely tallit, and so on.  One "glorifies" God by showing respect for religious worship through high aesthetic standards.

            The Gemara then proceeds to cite a different reading of this verse in the name of Abba Shaul.  In his view, ve-anveihu should be interpreted to mean "I shall emulate Him," rather than "I shall glorify Him."  Benei Yisrael here declare their commitment to emulating God's qualities of kindness, graciousness and compassion.  As the Gemara famously remarks, "Just as He is compassionate, so shall you be compassionate; just as He is gracious, so shall you be gracious."

            Rav Menachem Bentzion Zaks, in his work Menachem Tziyon, suggests that in truth, Abba Shaul might not necessarily disagree with the first view recorded in the Gemara.  He, too, perhaps understood ve-anveihu as referring to "glorifying" God by ensuring the high aesthetic quality of articles used in the performance of mitzvot.  He merely adds that this applies not only to one's sukka, lulav, Torah scroll and tallit, but to one's self, as well.  A person committed to mitzvot brings glory to God by refining his character and acting kindly and sensitively towards others.  A religiously observant Jew is no less an "instrument" of mitzva performance than the four species or a Torah scroll, and thus the concept of hiddur mitzva, of beautifying mitzva articles, requires following God's example of kindness and compassion.  When an observant Jew earns respect and admiration for his stellar character and qualities, for his honesty and pleasant demeanor, he brings "glory" to God as required by the ideal of ve-anveihu.  Conversely, when a religiously observant Jew acts tactlessly and selfishly, if he speaks disrespectfully or dishonestly, without showing care and concern for those around him, then he brings shame to himself, his faith and his people, and most certainly fails to glorify the Name of God.