Shemos

"WHAT'S IN A NAME?" (GREATNESS!)

The excitement and eminence of our exit from Egypt in the Second Sefer of the Torah engenders its name: "Exodus". The literal translation of Shemos, however, has a different meaning, namely, "names." And like the Sefer that shares its name, this week's parsha is all about names. We have known names and non-known names, associative names, namings, and The Name.

Our parsha proceeds with the names that precede our coming down to Egypt: "And these are the names of the Children of Israel who came to Egypt ..." (1:1) It also intentionally intrigues us by providing us with non-[immediately]-known names: "A man (Amram) went from the house of Levi and he took a daughter of Levi (Yocheved)." (2:1) Others are originally only identified by their "associative" status: "His (Moshe's) sister stationed herself at a distance ... Pharaoh's daughter went down to bathe ... His sister said to Pharaoh's daughter ..." (2:4-7) Then there are the "namings": "She called his name Moshe ..." (2:10) "She gave birth to a son and he named him Gershom ..." (2:22)

Finally, when Moshe encounters Hashem for the first time at the Burning Bush, he says

Behold, when I come to the Children of Israel and say to them "The G-d of your forefathers has sent me to you" and they say to me "What is His Name?"-what shall I say to them? Hashem answered Moshe "I Shall Be As I Shall Be." (3:13-14)

But with all the atypical absorption with appellations in our parsha, it is the aliases afforded the "Hebrew midwives" that agitate for our attention. The Torah tells us

The king of Egypt said to the Hebrew midwives, of whom the name of the first was Shifra, and the name of the second was Puah "In your assisting the Hebrew women ... if it is a son, you are to kill him, and if it is a daughter, she shall live." But the midwives feared G-d ... and they kept the boys alive. (1:15-17)

Rashi, concerned we may mistakenly believe "Shifra" and "Puah" were the midwives' real names, informs us (based on the Medrash, Shemos Rabbah)

Shifrah-This is Yocheved. [She is called Shifra] because she beautifies the child [at birth]. (The Hebrew word for "beautifies" has the same root as the word "Shifrah").

Puah-This is Miriam. [She is called Puah] because she cries, speaks, and coos to the child in the manner of women who soothe a crying baby. (The Hebrew word for "cries", in the sense of calming a baby, has the same root as "Puah").

So the heroines of the story, Shifra and Puah—the midwives who saved the babies—were really Yocheved and Miriam. The first and most obvious question is: what was so great about what they did? They refused to kill the children? Isn't murder a sin we must give up our life for rather than commit? What was so great? Most G-d Fearing Jews would have refused that command!

But, what would most people do? They would run. They would quit. They would "disappear". They would try to avoid the situation. And if they are on a higher level, they may "help and run" ("Um, sorry, wish I could stay for the baby shower, but ...").

Not so Shifra and Puah; their greatness was that they stayed. They stayed and defied. They stayed, defied, and beautified. That's amazing!! So amazing, in fact, that the Torah calls them by names celebrating those acts!

Ok, that's very nice, but these were two of the greatest women to ever live!! And we are told their real names later on! Why would the Torah choose to introduce them to us through these enigmatic nicknames? It's commendable that they took extra time and care for the babies, but to name them such because of that? They did many greater things! Yocheved was personally responsible for helping end the ban on procreation that her husband Amram had decreed for his generation. She gave birth to and weaned the greatest Jewish leader of all time! Miriam was a great prophetess who famously led the women in song after the Splitting of the Sea, and in whose merit Bnei Yisroel were able to regularly have water in the desert!

The Rabbenu Yerucham, a Rishon, asks this question, and he provides us with an insightful answer that resonates to this very day. To simplify, he tells us that when it comes to great people, everything they set their minds to do they become great at. When Yocheved and Miriam became midwives, they were so exceptional at it, that it became their essence at that time, even under those dire circumstances.

[Not that I am advocating watching television, but] there is a great show on TV called Chopped. Essentially, it is a competition that pits professional chefs against each other, with the goal of creating the most innovative, presentable and tasty dish. The rub is that they are presented with the ingredients right before they begin, they have a very short time frame with which to prepare the dish, and the ingredients are oftentimes unusual, zany, and most-likely never intended to be cooked together. I am so often amazed at the incredible concoctions that they masterfully piece together; I am awed by their creativity and deftness.

From that we learn that there are two ways to develop a delicious dish: great ingredients or a great cook. Sometimes you can have great ingredients, but if the person is not good at cooking, the dish will be a disaster. Sometimes, however, even with sub-par ingredients, a master chef can make a masterpiece. The Torah is telling us that Yocheved and Miriam were so great, that it was evident even when they were performing simple tasks that were mundane for them, and even under sub-par conditions.

That is very much in line with what I always preach to my children-it doesn't matter what you do, just be great at it. I don't care if you're a busboy or a garbage collector (well, actually I do care, I didn't spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on Yeshiva tuition for them to do that, but ...), just be the best busboy or garbage man you can be. I am always impressed when I see someone who is excellent at their job—regardless of what it is—because I know most likely they excel at everything they do; it's a matter of pride (and greatness).

Soon after I moved to Florida with my family, my parents (a"h) came to visit for winter vacation, and invited us to stay with them in Miami Beach for Shabbos. My kids were very little back then (my youngest daughter not yet born), and in a classic "Eastern European parents at the Fontainebleau" moment, my folks told me that we would all be sharing one room! After a very rough, sleepless night, a horrifying realization dawned upon me at dawn: we had no coffee!!! (It may as well have been a fast day!) After scrambling to make it on time for shul, I sat through the 17-hour davening (ok, it was more like 2-3 hours, but did I mention I hadn't had any coffee?!) and then made my way to the restaurant where we were having our pre-paid Shabbos lunch.

If you have never eaten at one of these types of restaurants, there is something you should know: the service is usually horrible. That is simply because the wait-staff know you will not be tipping them since it's Shabbos, so they do the bare minimum (statistically speaking, approximately 0% of the customers return on Motzei Shabbos to tip). Compounded by the fact that I was exhausted and had a caffeine headache, the scenario as presented did not portend a happy ending. I desperately tried to get someone to bring me coffee (which caused consternation, because they felt that was exclusively an end-of-meal item), to no avail. I did, however, notice one young woman working very hard. I went over to her and told her my predicament, and in a thick, Russian accent she replied "no problem sir, I'll get you a cup." As soon as she poured the first cup, I drank it immediately and asked for another (fearing I would lose her), which she accommodated.

Then she did something amazing: unsolicited, she came over with a carafe of coffee and said "you look like you're going to need a few more, so just keep this." Wow! I was impressed (and happily caffeinated)! We chatted for a little while, and I casually mentioned that I owned a day-trading firm and that we had positions available for hard working individuals. A few days later she called me, and a month later I hired her as a receptionist; it was a classic example of someone being great at whatever they were doing, and it shining through (which in turn led to a greater opportunity for her).

Oh yeah, I should probably tell you the rest of the story. When I closed down the trading firm, she was the only employee that I took with me to start my real estate company, and she stayed with me for six more years. During that time she got her green card, converted to Judaism, got her law degree (she went to law school at night), and married an Orthodox Jew! Now she is vice-president and general counsel of a large company (and has two kids as well). All from a carafe of coffee; all from being great at whatever she was doing.

By introducing Yocheved and Miriam to us via their aliases, the Torah is teaching us that when great people set their minds to something, their greatness always shines through. Whether it was helping end the prohibition on procreation instituted by her husband, whether it was giving birth to and nursing the greatest Jewish leader of all time, or whether it was simply assisting Jewish women while giving birth, Yocheved excelled at the highest level. And whether it was leading the women in song after the Splitting of the Sea, providing the merits for our people to have available water in the desert, or simply cooing at newborn babies, Miriam was the best at whatever she did.

For these two women, glorious acts of known leadership and [seemingly] mundane tasks like midwifery were tackled with the same thoughtfulness and gusto, always causing their excellence to shine through. So when the Torah introduces them by using names that reflect their loftiness in small, detailed matters, the Torah is teaching us a much larger lesson: that sometimes a name defines one's essence, but sometimes one's essence defines their name, thus teaching us WHAT'S IN A NAME.... GREATNESS!!

Good Shabbos.

Va'eira

"AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH"

Moshe's colossal confrontations with the king of Egypt contain curious components that command our contemplation. Although Moshe was the principal purveyor of the plagues, he is primarily passive during the primary proofs and punishments provided to Pharaoh and his palace. Rather, ab initio it is Aaron who is active in activating the awesome admonitions and attendant afflictions awaiting the archenemy. In the initial instructions issued to Moshe and Aaron regarding their inaugural introduction to Pharaoh (save for their failed "3-day vacation" request), the Torah tells us

Hashem said to Moshe and Aharon, saying: "When Pharaoh speaks to you, saying, 'Provide a wonder for yourselves,' you shall say to Aharon 'Take your staff and cast it down before Pharaoh-it will become a serpent!'" (7:8-10)

The Torah continues

Aharon cast down his staff before Pharaoh and before his servants, and it became a serpent. Pharaoh, too, summoned his wise men and sorcerers, and they, toothe necromancers of Egypt-did so with their spells. Each one threw down his staff and they became serpents; and the staff of Aharon then swallowed up their staffs. And Pharaoh's heart became hardened and he did not heed them ... (7:10-12)

So Pharaoh staffed his palace with staff who could strike their staffs into serpents, but those could not stave-off Aharon's staff, which swallowed them up. The Medrash (Shemos Rabbah) elaborates on the enigmatic encounter after Aharon performs the "snake-from-a-stick" trick

Pharaoh started mocking them, and crowing at them "that's the best your G-d can do?" ... Immediately he sent for his N.I.T.s (necromancers-in-training), children of 4 or 5 years old, who were able to duplicate the feat ... and the floor of the palace was teeming with snakes ... Aharon picked up his serpent and it became a staff again. R' Elazar said "[It was] a miracle within a miracle, for the snake turned back into a staff, and then it swallowed all the other snakes." R' Yose ben R' Chanina said "A great miracle occurred with this staff, for although it ate up all the other snake-staffs, which were many, it did not become any thicker, it did not change at all." This frightened Pharaoh, and he was prepared to abdicate the throne, but his heart hardened.

We plan to ponder precisely why this seemingly imitable feat would promote panic in Pharaoh, but let us first consider the ramifications of the above recital. After coaxing and cajoling Moshe for seven days, Hashem commands him to return to Egypt to end the enslavement. After a tepid "request" to let the Jews leave for three days to serve Hashem, Moshe's big moment finally arrives, whereby he will exhibit his eminence over the emperor of Egypt, and ... Aharon is chosen for the task! Various reasons are proffered for why Moshe was prevented from casting his staff on the ground, but it is a recurring theme that is hard to ignore as the plagues proceed.

Moshe is instructed to warn Pharaoh of the baths of blood that would ensue should he refuse the Jews' emancipation from Egypt, and then Hashem commands him

"Say to Aharon, 'Take your staff and stretch out your hand over the waters of Egypt ... and they shall become blood'" ... Moshe and Aharon did so, as Hashem had commanded. He (Aharon) held the staff aloft and struck the water that was in the river in the presence of Pharaoh and in the presence of his servants, and all the water that was in the river changed to blood. (7:19-20)

Quoting the Medrash (Shemos Rabbah) that we are all familiar with from childhood, Rashi famously tells us, on the words "Say to Aharon"

Because the river protected Moshe when he was cast into it, therefore it was not smitten through his hand, neither at the [plague of] blood, nor at the [plague of] frogs, but it was smitten through the hands of Aharon.

In other words, Moshe owed the water a debt of gratitude for having been the medium through which he was saved, thus it would have been inappropriate for him to "strike" the water, since that would appear to be ungrateful. This, of course, is used as a Kal V'Chomer (a fortiori argument) lesson with respect to people: If Moshe was required to show such gratitude to water, an inanimate object without feelings, how much more so should we be mindful of the debt of gratitude owed to our fellow who does us a favor. Thus it highlights the premium Judaism attaches to having an "attitude of gratitude."

After the Egyptians survive the seven-day plague of blood, by purchasing water from the Jews (How absurd! Imagine a society where people pay for drinking water ...), Moshe is commanded to warn Pharaoh about the upcoming plague of frogs. And as alluded to by the Rashi above, Moshe is once again forced to pass the staff to Aharon, since this plague also involved striking the water. Wow! So Moshe has to defer direct involvement in the staff/snake intro, the first plague, and the second plague. So let's get ready to see some action from him when he introduces the third plague: lice. After Pharaoh once again refuses to heed their request for release, Hashem says to Moshe

"Say to Aharon, 'Stretch out your staff and strike the dust of the land; it shall become lice throughout the land of Egypt.'" So they did: Aharon stretched out his hand with his staff and struck the dust of the land ... (8:12-13)

What?! Again?!! No Moshe? But there's no water involved this time! Says Rashi

The soil did not deserve to be stricken by Moshe because it protected him when he killed the Egyptian and hid him in the sand. [Therefore] it was stricken by Aharon.

So Moshe misses out on directly administering the snake sign and the first three plagues! Let me ask you something: don't you find that a little suspicious?! Surely Hashem knew that Moshe was going to be his emissary to deliver the signs and the ten plagues! I can accept the fact that Moshe needed to be saved miraculously, but couldn't Hashem have arranged it in another way—other than through water and soil—so that Moshe could personally perform all the miracles? He misses out on 30% of them! Or, in the alternative, couldn't Hashem have established that these wonders could occur in an alternate way so that Moshe would not be so restricted? Why couldn't Moshe just raise his staff, like he did for some of the other plagues (and for the splitting of the sea, which was a water-related miracle), without having to strike the water or land? It seems very inconvenient that it happened this way!