PARASHAT BESHALACH

By Rav David Silverberg

            Parashat Beshalach includes the famous shirat ha-yam – the song of praise sung by Benei Yisrael after the miraculous splitting of the Sea of Reeds and the drowning of the pursuing Egyptian army.  In one verse in this poem, Benei Yisrael describe the Almighty as, “osei fele” – literally, “accomplishing wonders” (15:11).

            Rav Shimshon Refael Hirsch, in his commentary, notes that the conventional translation of the word pele as “wonder” is imprecise.  The term “wonder” describes the response and perspective of the beholders of the “wonder.”  We react with “wonder” upon seeing an event to which we are not accustomed, that is so starkly different from our expectations and experiences.  Pele, by contrast, describes the essential nature of the event – not our reaction to it.  In Rav Hirsch’s words:

But pele designates the occurrence, not according to its effect on us, but according to its real nature, as being independent of, and usually in contrast to, the laws of Nature, and so [they] are a revelation of the One Who is above, and directs the laws of Nature.  The first and intentional pele was the creation of the laws of Nature, and every further interference with these laws by God is a pele, and remains a pele even if we cease to “wonder” at it because we are constantly and daily conscious of this indirect acting and guiding of God.

Thus, according to Rav Hirsch, the term pele denotes an act of absolute independence, an event that transpired not as a result of the laws of nature, but rather independent of those laws.

            Rav Hirsch proceeds to explain on this basis the use of the root p.l.e. in reference to voluntary vows and commitments that a person takes upon himself (see Vayikra 27:2, Bamidbar 6:2).  Such a vow, Rav Hirsch comments, is “an act of pure freewill on the part of a human being, independent of the actual moral law.”  It is called a pele because it exists independently of the fixed system of the Torah’s obligations.  This term thus quite accurately describes the situation of a person who chooses to commit himself to an obligation that does not stem from Torah law, but rather from a person’s independent decision.

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            Parashat Beshalach describes the manna, the miraculous “food” that descended from the heavens each morning during Benei Yisrael’s sojourn through the otherwise uninhabitable wilderness.  The Torah tells that when Benei Yisrael collected manna for the first time, “They gathered [manna], some more and some less.  But when they measured it with an omer, he who had gathered more had nothing extra, and he who had gathered less was not lacking – each had gathered according to what he eats” (16:18).

            Regardless of how much manna a person collected, it ended up equaling the precise amount needed for the family.  Part of the miracle of the manna – beyond the obvious miracle of food descending from the skies – was the automatic apportioning of an omer’s worth for each member of every household, irrespective of the amount collected.

            Interestingly enough, however, it appears that the people were nevertheless required to collect the precise amount needed for everyone at home.  Despite the fact that the manna would always turn out to be the required quantity, the people were enjoined to personally collect that amount, rather than rely on God’s automatic apportioning.  Moshe instructs Benei Yisrael, “This is the thing that God had commanded: Each man should gather from it [the manna] according to what he eats: an omer per head, according to the number of your souls – each of you shall take for those in his tent” (16:16).  It seems that the people were commanded to take precisely an omer per family member, even though this amount would be provided – no more and no less – regardless of how much or how little one collected.

            Rav Shimshon Refael Hirsch, who understands the entire system of the manna as symbolic of the Torah’s perspective on earning a livelihood, explains this command, too, as reflecting an important aspect of the Torah’s outlook.  He writes:

But the intention to gather the right quantity seems to have been an essential, indispensable condition, otherwise, after the first experience, nobody need to have bothered to gather more than a minimum quantity since the result would be a sufficiency, and in no case more.  In this lay the whole teaching of the importance of conscientious industrious work to be able to rely on the blessing of Providence in seeking a livelihood for oneself and one’s family.

The manna’s daily descent from the heavens undoubtedly teaches the confidence we must have in God’s ability and willingness to provide our material needs each day.  At the same time, however, the Torah certainly does not deny or negate the need to actively pursue a livelihood, rather than sitting idly and expecting its arrival.  The effort – albeit minimal – required of Benei Yisrael to collect the appropriate quantity symbolizes the “conscientious industrious work” that is necessary for becoming worthy of God’s daily “manna.”  Although the people could have simply collected a single, infinitesimal morsel, which would have transformed into an omer for each family member, God nevertheless required each person to collect the amount needed to feed his family – to teach the importance of hard work and personal responsibility in securing a livelihood.

            We might also note the fact that the manna that went uncollected outside the camp melted in the desert sun (16:21).  Chizkuni and Seforno note that the people had to be vigilant and ensure to arise and leave home early enough to collect their packages of manna before it melted in the sun.  In fact, according to Ibn Ezra (Peirush Ha-katzar), the people would go out to collect the manna before sunrise.  The manna arrangement – as miraculously convenient as it was – did not allow for “sleeping in.”  The people were expected to leave home early and make sure to “get to the office on time,” or else they were left without food for themselves or their families.

            Thus, while the manna teaches about the importance of relying on the Almighty’s ability to provide our daily needs, it also emphasizes the indispensable role of personal responsibility and effort in providing for ourselves and our families.

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            We read in Parashat Beshalach about the manna which fell from the heavens each morning during Benei Yisrael’s sojourn in the wilderness.  Each person would collect a portion for every member of his household, and any manna that was left over to the next day would go spoiled.  On Erev Shabbat, however, an extra portion fell for each member of the nation, and that portion would be safely preserved and remained intact until the next day, Shabbat, on which no new portion fell.

            A famous passage in the Midrash traces the origins of this phenomenon back to the time of creation.   The Torah writes after the creation story, “God blessed the seventh day and sanctified it, because it was on it that He ceased all His activity…” (Bereishit 2:3).  The Midrash (Bereishit Rabba 11), cited by Rashi, comments:

He blessed it through the manna and sanctified it through the manna.  He blessed it through the manna – for on all days of the week, an omer would descend, and on Erev Shabbat, two omarim [fell].  He sanctified it through the manna – in that it did not fall on [Shabbat] at all.

According to the Midrash, the special quality of Shabbat that was manifest in the context of the manna in the wilderness is the clearest expression of the “blessing” and “sanctification” which God bestowed upon Shabbat at the time of creation.

            During the six days of creation, God brought into existence everything that the human being would need to live on earth.  By the time Shabbat arrived, all the raw materials needed for human existence were in place; nothing more needed to be created.  This process repeats itself each and every week.  Each day, people – like Benei Yisrael in the wilderness – leave their homes to collect their daily “bread from the heavens.”  Of course, people must work and toil for their livelihood – in contrast to the period of the wilderness – but essentially, their sustenance comes to them as a gift from the Almighty.  Every weekday, God repeats the process of creation by providing mankind what they need to survive.

            Shabbat, however, was “blessed” and “sanctified” as a day when no creation is necessary.  Just as after the six days of creation God “saw everything that He made, and behold, it was very good” (Bereishit 1:31), and thereupon designated the day of Shabbat, similarly, as the week comes to a close we are to look upon all we have and acknowledge that “behold, it is very good.”  In the wilderness, Benei Yisrael did not leave to collect manna on Shabbat because they had received an extra portion the previous day.  Likewise, every Shabbat, we are to feel as though we have no need to work for our sustenance – because it has already been provided.  The process of “creation” that occurs during the workweek ends with the onset of Shabbat, at which point God has given us all that we need, and we can thus spend the day delighting in our blessings and giving praise to the One who bestowed them.

            This Midrash, then, points to the concept of Shabbat as a time of contentment.  The compelling parallel between the Shabbat after creation and the Shabbat in the wilderness conveys the message that on Shabbat we must acknowledge the completion of the weekly creation process, and recognize that we have been given all that we need.  While during the workweek we must, by necessity, direct our minds toward our needs and the effective means of fulfilling them, Shabbat is the time to feel satisfied and content, to recognize that the Almighty has given us all that we need, and to put off any lingering worries or concerns until Sunday.

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            We read in Parashat Beshalach of the manna which fell each morning to sustain Benei Yisrael during their sojourn through the wilderness.  A portion fell each morning for every member of the nation, and any manna that was left over until the next day spoiled.  On Friday, however, two portions fell for each person, one of which was safely stored and preserved for Shabbat.  On the first Shabbat, Moshe told Benei Yisrael to partake of the extra portion that had arrived the previous day, because no new manna would fall on that day, Shabbat.  However, the Torah relates, “On the seventh day, some from the nation went out to collect [manna], and did not find any” (16:27).

            In the next verse, we read of God’s angry reaction: “The Lord said to Moshe [to tell Benei Yisrael]: Until when will you refuse to observe My commands and laws…”

            According to the simple reading of the text, it appears that God refers here to the lack of faith displayed by those who left the camp to search for manna on Shabbat morning.  Despite Moshe’s promise that the extra portion that fell the previous day would suffice for their needs on Shabbat, and his informing them that no manna would fall on Shabbat, this group chose to test Moshe and look for manna even on Shabbat.  They did not trust his prediction that the manna would not fall on the seventh day.  This is indeed the approach taken by, among others, Abarbanel and Rav Shimshon Refael Hirsch.

            Many sources in the Chazal and later commentaries, however, point to various halakhic violations of Shabbat that may have been committed by this group of people.  A comprehensive list of these theories is presented by Rav Menachem Kasher, in his Torah Sheleima (vol. 14, miluim 18).  Among the violations mentioned are techum Shabbat (leaving 2000 cubits outside one’s city), carrying utensils (for collecting the manna) into the public domain, me’amer (piling) and tolesh (uprooting from the ground).  What likely prompted this general approach was God’s response, in which He condemned the people’s failure to observe His “commands and laws” (“mitzvotai ve-torotai”).  This expression appears to refer to a violation of a specific directive, as opposed to a general lack of faith.

            Rav Hirsch implicitly addresses this question, in his commentary to this verse, where he suggests that attempting to earn one’s living on Shabbat violates the very basis of God’s commands and laws:

He who seeks his livelihood on Sabbath against God’s Will denies that his food is sent from God at all.  He reveals his belief that he can get his livelihood without any reference to God’s Will, even against God’s Will, and that it is not the Divine goodwill but his own actual efforts and that which can be obtained by the ordinary means governed entirely by physical laws, which keeps him and feeds him… The Jew who seeks his livelihood on Sabbath, completely turns his back to God, and to following His will, places himself on his own, and tears up the bond with all His teachings…for with chilul Shabbat is expressed the denial to pay any attention at all to the commands and teachings of God.

            In any event, we mentioned earlier that according to one view, the people who went in search of manna violated the prohibition of techum Shabbat, which forbids leaving beyond 2000 cubits beyond the boundaries of one’s city on Shabbat.  Rav Kasher cites this interpretation from the Ralbag, and suggests that it might also emerge from the Gemara’s discussion in Masekhet Arakhin (15a).

            According to this reading, we might draw a connection of sorts between this interpretation and the straightforward understanding of the verse, in light of the theme of contentment which we discussed yesterday.  The people who left in search of manna failed to feel content and secure with their current provisions; they were unable to make the heroic declaration that Shabbat observance requires – “I have all I need, and I have no reason to go and try to obtain more.”  Moshe had instructed, “Eat it [the extra portion] today, for today is Shabbat for the Lord; today, you will not find it in the field” (16:25).  He bid the people to stay at home and enjoy the blessings that are already there, rather than search for more.  Those who violated his instruction failed to experience the feeling of contentment that Shabbat demands.  They fell prey to the obsessive desire for acquisition, which consumed them and did not allow them to feel secure and content with what they had in their homes for even one day a week.

            The prohibition of techum Shabbat may perhaps relate to this same theme.  It essentially tells us that whatever we need is already in our homes or in its immediate surroundings.  If all week we run about trying to secure a livelihood, on Shabbat we are to feel that our needs have already been cared for, that our cupboards are fully stocked.  For one day a week, we must delight in this feeling of contentment and experience no desire to go out and obtain more.  Thus, those who went searching for manna on Shabbat indeed transgressed the prohibition of techum Shabbat, in the sense that they did not feel content with what they had in their tents, and insisted on scurrying about in search of even more.

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            Parashat Beshalach concludes with the account of Benei Yisrael’s battle against Amalek, the nation that launched an unprovoked attack against them as they traveled toward Sinai.  The Torah tells that Moshe stood on top of a nearby hill during battle, and so long as he kept his arms held upward, Benei Yisrael were successful in fending off their assailants (17:11).

            A famous Mishna in Masekhet Rosh Hashanah (29a) discusses the nature of this miracle: “Can Moshe’s arms make or break war?  Rather, this teaches you that whenever Israel would look upward and subjugate their hearts to their Father in heaven, they would overpower [the enemy]; otherwise, they would fall.”  The Mishna clarifies that Moshe’s arms did not serve as some “charm” that enabled Benei Yisrael to defeat the Amalekites.  They rather directed the combatants’ attention to the heavens, in the merit of which they were granted victory.

            To what specific emotional experience does the Mishna refer?  What kind of feeling did Moshe’s raised arms serve to evoke?  At first glance, we might explain that the Mishna refers simply to prayer.  By pointing upward, Moshe reminded the people – who had just been freed from a pagan nation – that their fate lay in the hands of the Almighty, to whom they must turn in prayer and supplication during battle.

However, the Mishna mentions the experience of “subjugating their hearts to their Father in heaven.”  This would appear to refer to some kind of commitment on their part, and not simply to prayer.  Indeed, the Ketav Sofer explained that Benei Yisrael’s victory hinged on the religious purity and sincerity of their campaign.  In waging battle against Amalek, the bitter enemy of God and His people, Benei Yisrael were to be driven solely by a sense of subjugation to God, a genuine commitment to fulfill his will.  All too often, confrontations that begin with sincere motives quickly deteriorate into battles between egos.  What God demanded during the war against Amalek was a sincere desire on Benei Yisrael’s part to fulfill the divine will, rather than fighting for the personal satisfaction of vengeance and vindication.

Loyal devotees of Torah have often been called upon to wage struggles for the preservation of our spiritual heritage.  The Mishna perhaps reminds us that our success hinges on the “subjugation of their hearts to their Father in heaven,” the sincerity of our motives.  The moment “Moshe lowers his arms,” when we fight looking downward, to defend our personal pride rather than the pride of God and His Torah, then we are bound to failure.  The various manifestations of “Amalek” often demand taking difficult measures, but these must be undertaken with our hearts turned upward, out of pure, genuine devotion to the divine will.

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            We read in Parashat Beshalach about the miraculous, heavenly manna which God fed Benei Yisrael throughout their sojourn in the wilderness.  Beyond answering the immediate and obvious need for food in an empty, barren, unsettled wilderness, this arrangement also served a crucial educational function, developing Benei Yisrael’s faith in God and His ability to provide.  As the manna could not be stashed from one day to the next, the entire nation went to sleep each night without any food for the next day.  With time, this daily experience built their trust in the Almighty and their recognition of His exclusive and unlimited ability to provide.  This awareness was crucial for them as they prepared to enter Eretz Yisrael and begin cultivating its soil and partaking of the fruits of their labors.

            Interestingly enough, Seforno – with characteristic originality and insight – draws our attention to a much different educational purpose served by the manna.  Before Moshe and Aharon introduce the concept of the manna to the people, they first proclaim, “In the evening, you shall know that it was the Lord who took you from the land of Egypt” (16:6).  According to the simple reading of this verse (see Ibn Ezra), it means that the miraculous food will prove to the nation that it was God who had brought them into the wilderness, and not Moshe and Aharon, as the people had accused (16:3).  Seforno, however, explains this verse as a prayer that God, through the manna, should extricate the people from their lifestyle in Egypt:

May it be His will that this which He said – that He will give you food – shall be in a manner such that He gives you the needs of the evening in the evening, so that you will know that the Almighty, may He be blessed, took you out from the land of Egypt entirely, that He will take you out even from its lifestyle – that you would sit there on the fleshpot without a fixed mealtime, like animals, as the Sages said (Yoma 75b), “Originally, Israel were like roosters pecking in the trash bin, until Moshe came along and established for them a fixed mealtime.”

According to Seforno, the fixed, regimented schedule of manna marked a crucial element of Benei Yisrael’s gradual transformation from a slave nation into a nation of dignified people.  Back in Egypt, they ate irregularly, whenever they needed food to give them the strength to work.  Now, as a free people, they would be provided with food according to a fixed schedule.

A number of sources speak of the manna as the “food of angels” (see, for example, Rashi to Tehillim 78:25), as it was purely spiritual by nature.  According to Seforno, however, we might say that the manna actually served the role of “food of human beings.”  Benei Yisrael had grown accustomed to eating like animals, whenever they needed to.  Now, in preparation for Matan Torah and entering the Land of Israel, they needed to begin looking upon themselves as dignified human beings chosen as God’s special nation.  The manna served to refine their habits and their characters such that they would slowly start looking at themselves differently, and developing the kind of self-respect that they needed for the historical mission upon which they have now embarked.

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            During Benei Yisrael’s battle against Amalek, as we read in the final section of Parashat Beshalach, Moshe stood atop a nearby hill flanked by his brother, Aharon, and Chur, whom we later discover was the grandfather of Betzalel, the artisan who led the construction of the Mishkan (31:2).  Aharon and Chur supported Moshe’s arms and held them high, which helped Benei Yisrael defeat the enemy Amalekites.

            A number of writers noted the symbolic significance of this image of Moshe being supported by Aharon and Chur.  A famous Midrashic tradition relates that when Benei Yisrael conceived of the idea to construct a golden calf, Chur stood alone in protesting the plan.  His unrelenting struggle to oppose the golden calf eventually resulted in his being killed.  Aharon, as we know, adopted a much different approach when the people demanded a golden calf.  He acquiesced, going along with the plan in a slow, deliberate fashion in the hope that Moshe – whose prolonged absence was what caused the people to want a calf in the first place – would return before the people worshipped the calf.  Aharon and Chur thus represent the two different approaches that can be taken in dealing with those who threaten our spiritual ideals.  Chur represents the approach of stern opposition, while Aharon symbolizes patience and tolerance, the attempt to influence through love and sensitivity, rather than through fierce opposition.

            Moshe – representing the Torah – is “supported” by the delicate balance between Aharon and Chur.  It requires both the unyielding determination of Chur and the compassionate sensitivity of Aharon.  “Moshe’s arms” cannot be supported by only Chur or only Aharon; they are held high only when their “supporters” are wise enough to combine the approaches of both Chur and Aharon, each in its appropriate time and context.

            This symbolism may also add a new dimension to the Mekhilta’s comment on this verse, cited in the Tur (O.C. 619): “From here they said that no fewer than three people descend before the ark on a public fast day.”  On the basis of the battle of Amalek, the Sages instituted that whenever Benei Yisrael observe a public fast in response to crisis, the person leading the service must be flanked by two other community members.  Just as Moshe represented the people before God with two righteous men alongside him, similarly, the sheli’ach tzibur who leads the congregation in prayer during times of trouble should be surrounded by two community members.

            In light of the symbolic significance of Aharon and Chur’s standing alongside Moshe, we might explain this comment as alluding to the sense of unity that must characterize a community’s response to crisis.  On a ta’anit tzibur (public fast), we all stand before the Almighty together.  This is a time when Aharon must stand alongside Chur – when we pray and repent side by side with those who follow different approaches than us.  All the different groups and factions must set aside their differences and come together with mutual respect and affection, standing as one before God and begging for forgiveness and salvation.