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Parashat Bo - Exodus 10:1-13:16
A conversation between Chananel Rosen, Orthodox educator, and Dorothy Richman, Conservative rabbi God said to Moses: Go to Pharaoh, for I have hardened his heart...that I may show these My signs...that you may know that I am God. (Exodus 10:1-2) CHANANEL: I'm not particularly fond of Parashot Vayera or Bo: God's treatment of Pharaoh seems rather overdone, to say the least, and the notion of punishing Pharaoh so that he may serve as an example for the nation of Israel, or as a conduit for God's emanation in this world, makes me feel uncomfortable. However, I would like to stick with the "classical" interpretation for the time being, namely that: (a) Pharaoh is a real person - and not the internal psyche in every one of us - and (b) God's "hardening of his heart" implies a deprivation of free will. When reading Vayera and Bo together with Shemot, in which Pharaoh chooses to be the bad guy, I get the feeling that Pharaoh's destiny is a process similar to the nation of Israel's maturation from slavery. Commenting on Exodus 1:8, A new king arose over Egypt who did not know Joseph, the sages claim that Pharaoh actually did know Joseph - that he was the king whose dreams Joseph interpreted - and that he simply pretended he didn't know him. Rashi quotes the Talmud (Sotah 11a): "Rav and Shmuel [disagreed on the meaning of 'new']: one says a new king and the other says [the same king with] new decrees." In other words, Pharaoh "chose" to ignore Joseph. This reading is reinforced later in the same chapter: Pharaoh tells the midwives to kill newborn Jewish males, and is happy to "take on" God in his bombastic statement: Who is God that I should listen to him and let Israel go? I do not know God and I will not let Israel go. (Exodus 5:2) By stating that Pharaoh already knew Joseph and was the instigator of slavery, the sages are emphasizing the use and abuse of choice. Pharaoh is stripped of the most elementary trait of humankind - free will - because he willfully abused it. He enslaved and terrorized others when he could have chosen otherwise. The Torah is implying here that Pharaoh does not deserve to have free will, to determine his own personal destiny. This is a rather potent and applicable lesson, and reminiscent of Adam in the Garden of Eden. More often than not we want to have our cake and eat it, too. We'd like to do whatever we want without having to suffer the consequences of our actions. Pharaoh's lesson symbolizes the process of learning to take responsibility for one's choices, a basic component of maturation and individual independence. DOROTHY: You suggest that Pharaoh's heart is hardened as a punishment for choices he made and as a lesson in personal responsibility for us, the readers of the story. But what about God's stated purpose: to show you My power and that My name be proclaimed throughout the land (Exodus 9:16) or that I may show these My signs...that you may know that I am God (Exodus 10:1-2)? God's intervention in Pharaoh's decision-making is a public relations event. What is the message God wants to convey about our relationship with God? In thinking about this question, I was struck by the fact that one word used to describe God's hardening of Pharaoh's heart, hikhbadti, shares a root with Moses' self-description of being of heavy mouth and of heavy tongue, kaved peh u'khvad lashon, earlier at the burning bush. There God first tells Moses to speak to the elders of Israel, and Moses feels incapable of carrying out this command. Instead, he speaks to Aaron, who then speaks to the elders. The Natziv (Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin of Volozhin, 19th century) comments that if Moses had spoken to the elders himself, they would have heard God's presence in his voice. He adds that Moses' refusal to follow God's command set back the process of redemption for the entire nation. What, then, is the connection between the hard heart of Pharaoh and the heavy mouth of Moses? Both times the k-v-d root is used, we see a human refusing to act as an agent for God's will. In Pharaoh's case, perhaps it is because he feels too powerful to listen to God. In Moses' case, perhaps it is because he doesn't feel powerful enough. Either way, the use of the same root emphasizes a connection God wants us to see: whether we view ourselves as powerful or weak, we are given free will in order that we may freely choose to give it back and let God act through us. The show of God's absolute control through signs and wonders underscores that the only wise use of our will is to surrender it to God's will. Many plans rise in human hearts, but the will of God prevails. (Proverbs 19:21) Yet, in this post-prophetic age, how do we know God's will? Is halacha really a reflection of God's will? What does surrender to God look like these days? And why does it feel dangerous to suggest surrender as a model for religious behavior? CHANANEL: Your comments on the Natziv remind me of a midrash (Ki Tisa 45:5) on the verse: He said: I beg you, show me your glory. (Exodus 33:18) R. Yehoshua b. Korcha said Moses did not act accordingly when he hid his face [at the burning bush], for had Moses not hidden his face, God would have shown him what is above, what is below, and what is to come in the future. In the end Moses wanted to see, as it says, show me your glory. But God said: When I wanted, you didn't want, and now that you want, I don't want. Perhaps the root k-v-d connotes a sense of heaviness, an inability to respond, to believe in the impossible. This midrash underscores the idea that, like Moses and Pharaoh, we choose the kind of relationship we want with God. Perhaps "surrendering" to God is connected to the notion of transcending oneself - believing that we can be more than what we already are. In a post-prophetic age, I associate this with surmounting the inevitable: God will fill as much space as we are willing to create for God. DOROTHY: And how does one create space for God? Though serendipitous flashes of awe and inspiration are always welcome, I've found that the discipline of ritual allows for moments of transcending my personal desires. With prayer, I am consciously trying to get beyond my ideas of what must be, or, in your words, "believing I can be more than I already am." A teaching of the Sfat Emet (Rabbi Yehudah Aryeh Leib of Poland, 1847-1905) on the introduction to the Amida prayer, "My God, open my lips (sfatai) that my mouth may declare Your praise," reminds me to attempt to go beyond myself and into the impossible. He expands the translation of sfatai from "lips" to the more encompassing "boundaries". Open for me the gates of habit, of "that's the way I am," or "that's the way of the world," and help me to imagine, to pray for, a better self and a healed world. Returning to Moses and Pharaoh, I am reminded that k-v-d, heaviness, has many sides to it. It may well point to an inability to see past our own limitations. Still, other uses of the root later in the Torah deal with respecting others, most famously, in the commandment to honor (kabed) our parents. Maybe the trick of k-v-d is to attempt to transcend the perceived heaviness of our personal limitations (Moses, Pharaoh) while also being attentive to the heaviness, the real responsibility, we bear for those around us. CHANANEL: For me, creating space for God is a continuous conversation between myself and God. Ritual and prayer are God's invitation for me to get in touch with the divine. God has left an address and telephone number, but it's up to us to make the call. As for our parasha, the Torah focuses on Pharaoh and Moses by telling the story of the Exodus through them - the events could have just as easily been related in a more general manner, i.e., a tribe of slaves manages to escape from a world power - thus creating a highly personalized and intimate narrative, in order to emphasize their humanness and the decisions they made. In this sense, I see the responsibility of choice, with the ability to stand behind its consequences, as a principal characteristic of a free individual - an attribute that the nation of Israel gradually developed during its long journey through the desert. DOROTHY: Yes, choice is inevitable, since even refusing to choose represents a choice. As Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote, "There is always more than one path to go, and we are forced to be free - we are free against our will - and have the audacity to choose, rarely knowing how or why." May that conversation between us and God help us in the continuing challenge of choice to choose consciously and wisely. |