Two Minutes of Torah: Parashat Vaera (Exodus 6:29-7:18) - Magic or Miracle

As a child I really loved magic. I would always be transfixed as I watched magicians on television performing tricks which seemed impossible and inexplicable. As a child there was something amazing about these men who could read minds, guess the correct cards, and even saw a woman in half. I believed that the woman was really sliced in half and I believed that she was then magically stuck back together. These men who performed these feats, were magical and mysterious, possessing special powers (or so it seemed), and I was in awe of the way in which they appeared to make the impossible possible, always glued to the television screen when they were on.

As children we watch magic and we enjoy the illusion, without any awareness that there is actually any form of illusion involved. As we get older we slowly realise that the magic is not always all that it seems. The practitioners are still very skilled performers able to trick us into believing, but the belief in a pure magic (for want of a better term) disappears.

In this week’s Torah portion we read about the difference between magic and miracles, as Aaron duels with the magicians of Pharaoh’s court. God tells Moses and Aaron: ‘You shall speak all that I command you; and Aaron your brother shall speak to Pharaoh’ (Exodus 7:2), preparing them for their first encounter with the ruler of Egypt on behalf of God and the Israelites. And God appears to understand that the two brothers will need some form of proof that they really do have Divine backing: ‘When Pharaoh shall speak to you saying; “show a miracle”; then you shall say to Aaron, take your rod and throw it before Pharaoh and it shall become a serpent’ (Exodus 7:9).

We already know that God is about to bring the ten plagues upon Egypt and to part the sea so that the Israelites might cross; and we might feel that God could have begun with a bigger miracle for Aaron. However, it turns out to be perfectly appropriate for the situation.

Aaron did exactly as God had commanded him, and threw down his rod, which became a serpent (Exodus 7:10). But then, ‘the magicians of Egypt, they also did in like manner with their enchantments; for they threw down every man his rod, and they became serpents’ (Exodus 7:11-12). However, before we begin to doubt the supremacy of God, or spend too long questioning how the Egyptians were able to perform an equivalent miracle, the text tells us: ‘but Aaron’s rod swallowed up their rods’ (Exodus 7:12).

This was a society in which there could be a form of duel between sorcerers and magic. In this encounter, while the power remains with Pharaoh and the Egyptians, it is clear that God’s powers are far greater than anything they can create.

In our modern world the link between magic and religion has all but been broken, and we do not think of modern day magicians as having a power over the Divine and supernatural forces. But even modern magic has not forgotten the fact that all real miracles and magic emerged originally from God.

The word that magicians use: ‘Abracadabra’ has at its source the Hebrew abareh kedaber – I will create as it is spoken. This can be seen as a link to God’s very first miracle when the word was created simply by God’s words, ‘God said let there be light, and there was light’ (Genesis 1:3). God’s miracles do not involve any illusion, God is able to speak and the miraculous happens. Every time a magician says ‘Abracadabra’, whether they know it or not, they acknowledge that at its root all magic and miracles originate with God.

Two Minutes of Torah: Shemot (Exodus 3:1-22) - God has a name

Growing up in my orthodox Jewish primary school, the word God was never written on the board, on handouts, or anywhere in the school; it was always G-d. It was as though the three letters G-O-D written together had a certain sacredness, which meant that we were never able to write it down ourselves. And for many years of my life I would only write G-d. I imagine that it was at some point in my youth movement days with RSY-Netzer when I began to question why I was unable to write down G-O-D. It seems that it originates with the sacredness of the Hebrew name for God, which is Yod-Hay and Vav-Hay (even there I feel I can’t place the letters together).

The Hebrew name of God, which we read as Adonai, is considered so sacred that it is not written or read, and in Orthodox circles it is referred to as Adonai in prayer and Hashem (The Name) or Adoshem when referred to in study. The sacredness of this name is such that when using Hebrew letters for numbers: aleph = 1, bet = 2, yud = 10, etc. the number fifteen is not yud-hay (10+5) it is tet-vav (9+6) and sixteen is not yud-vav (10+6) it is tet-zayin (9+7). This significance is transferred to the word God, which is not a sacred name, it is not even a translation of this word; it is the English word which is used to refer to the Divine.

In this week’s Torah portion we gain an insight into the name of God, when Moses is first introduced to the Hebrew Deity. After witnessing the miracle of the burning bush (Exodus 3:2-4), and having been instructed; ‘I will send you to Pharaoh, that you may bring forth my people the children of Israel out of Egypt’ (Exodus 3:10). Moses’ first concern is with his inadequacy for the task which God has set before him, a worry which recurs throughout the beginning of Moses’ story. However, his second question is about God’s name; after claiming that he has been sent by the God of their ancestors, Moses imagines that the people will say: ‘What is his name, what shall I say to them?’ (Exodus 3:13).

Before considering God’s answer it is a fascinating concern for Moses to have. Why does he imagine that the Israelites’ first question will be about the name of God? Moses appears to imagine that knowledge of the name of God will be the test which the people will place before him, seeking proof that he truly is God’s messenger. Knowledge of someone’s name suggests a level of knowledge about that person, and it appears that in the case of the Divine it works in a similar way.

God’s enigmatic answer to Moses is: ‘Ehyeh asher ehyeh’ (Exodus 3:14), which can most accurately be translated as ‘I will be that I will be’. It is not really a name in the conventional sense, God does not say ‘My name is Yud-Hay and Vav-Hay’; offering something which appears to be more of a designation than an actual name. God follows this by saying: ‘You shall say to the people of Israel, I WILL BE has sent me to you’ (Exodus 3:14).

At first glance this may appear frustrating as we seek to know the true name of God. However, there is something very powerful about the designation ‘I will be that I will be’. God cannot be confined to a single name, and simply is, God exists as the ‘I Will Be’ to be referred to by various peoples in whatever language, and with whatever name they see fit. In England, when we talk about the Divine we use the word God, the same word which is used by our Christian cousins. And in Arab countries the Jews use the Arabic for God, using the word Allah, the same as our Muslim cousins.

God may appear to the various monotheistic religions by many names, and for each religion the name itself may hold a certain sacredness. But above the specifics of a single name there is God, the Divine, which simply exists. The Israelites do not really need to know God’s specific name, they simply need to know that God exists – the same God which we all worship in our own ways, using our own names.

Two Minutes of Torah: Vayigash (Genesis 45:8-28) - Getting over the bumps in the road

Spending the second year of my rabbinic programme in Israel was probably the single best decision I have ever made. I was able to build wonderful friendships with my fellow students. I was taught by inspirational teachers who made the subjects come alive and led me to deeper and further study. And most importantly, I met a young American girl, studying for her Jewish Education Masters, who would become my wife. All in all it was a very successful year.

However, many of the factors which led me to decide to spend my second year in Israel were beyond my control; and in the preceding years there were several times when I questioned whether I had made the right decisions for myself. Through various trials and tribulations I wondered about the paths not taken, and the opportunities not explored. It was hard for me to accept that I was on the right path until I found myself in Israel for that very special year, and I realised that this had been the plan for me all along.

I like to imagine that Joseph had similar feelings about the way his life had worked out. When he was thrown into the pit by his brothers (Genesis 37:24) we can picture the arrogant young boy begin to doubt that his destiny really would involve the adulation, which his prior dreams had foretold. As a slave being taken away by the Midianite traders (Genesis 37:28) Joseph must have begun to see a future which would be filled with hardship and struggle, with no more elaborate coats or paternal favouritism.

And while things looked up for Joseph briefly while he prospered in the house of Potiphar (Genesis 39:2), these good times were short lived as he was sent to prison after the alleged attempt to seduce Potiphar’s wife (Genesis 39:20). In prison Joseph could have given up, but he continued to work hard, finding favour with the prison warden (Genesis 39:23).

Ultimately as we all know Joseph interpreted Pharaoh’s dreams and was placed in charge of the entire land of Egypt (Genesis 41:41). So that when his brothers came to buy food they stood before him and they bowed down low asking him, as their master, to permit them to buy food to take back to Canaan. Joseph as Pharaoh’s number two, was able to realise that all of the challenges along his journey had been intended to bring him to that specific point, so that he could say to his brothers: ‘it is not you who sent me here but God who made me a father to Pharaoh, a lord of all his household, a ruler of the whole land of Egypt’ (Genesis 45:8).

Joseph did not blame his brothers for selling him into slavery, a path which ultimately led him as low as a prison in Egypt. Instead he saw that it was all part of God’s plan. The hardships were necessary so that he could reach the light at the end of the tunnel.

When we are in the midst of a difficult situation it can be hard to believe there is a light at the end of the tunnel, let alone see it. But we can remember the story of Joseph and his experiences. Along the way I am sure that at various points he cursed his brothers, and maybe even questioned God, but at the end he was able to see the higher purpose, towards which he had always been travelling. It was not a direct road, and there were many bumps along the way, but Joseph made it. And he therefore serves as an example for us to overcome challenges along the paths of our lives, looking forward to a positive future.

Two Minutes of Torah: Parashat Mikeitz (Genesis 42:1-23) - Overprotective Parents

I remember the first time my sister and I were allowed to walk to the newsagents on our own. In our childhood home we lived around the corner from a small shopping strip which was the place we went to buy sweets and chocolate. The distance door-to-door could not have been much more than 100 metres; but for us it was an epic journey. It was epic not because of the distance, but because of the independence and freedom which we were being given.

Knowing my parents, especially my mother, I am sure that they were at least a little bit nervous letting us so far out of eye-sight and without supervision. But we were growing up and it was time for us to be allowed to go to the newsagents on our own. What I did not know at the time was that as my sister and I walked hand-in-hand to the shop, my father followed slightly behind, keeping us in eyesight almost all of the time. We felt like we were being granted our independence, while our parents kept a watchful eye.

Jacob was an overprotective parent, but only in relation to one of his children.

When the land of Canaan was suffering from the severe famine, which had impacted the entire region, there was still food in Egypt. Jacob heard about this and told his sons: ‘I have heard that there is grain in Egypt; get down there, and buy for us from there; that we may live, and not die’ (Genesis 42:2). So he sent ten of his sons to Egypt, Joseph was already presumed dead, but ‘Benjamin, Joseph’s brother, Jacob sent not with his brothers; for he said, Lest perhaps harm befall him’ (Genesis 42:4).

It is hardly surprising that Jacob was so protective of Benjamin, who was after all the baby of the family. He was also Rachel’s son, Jacob’s favourite wife, who had died while giving birth to him. And after the disappearance of Joseph (who Jacob believed to be dead), he was the only remaining connection for Jacob to Rachel. We can therefore understand why Jacob may have been particularly protective of Benjamin.

However, as every parent knows, there is a time when children need to be allowed to make their own way and to become independent of their parents. For my sister and I this began with a secretly supervised trip to the newsagents, and it was the first stage in our attainment of independence and the road to adulthood.

Benjamin could not be coddled and protected forever. Joseph was the catalyst who told his brothers: ‘If you are honest men, let one of your brothers be confined in the house of your prison; you go, carry grain for the famine of your houses. But bring your youngest brother to me’ (Genesis 42:19-20). He required Benjamin be brought down to Egypt so that he could see his full-brother alive and well. But at the same time he also forced Jacob to recognise that Benjamin had grown up and had to be trusted to journey, with his brothers, down to Egypt. The quest to Egypt was vital for the survival of the family, as they were sure to need more grain. It was crucial for Simeon who was left behind as collateral until Benjamin was brought. And it was necessary for Benjamin as an opportunity to grow up and leave his father’s house.

Jacob did not follow a few paces behind to make sure that Benjamin was safe on the journey, but he did have nine other sons who were with him, and could ensure the security of his favoured child. In the journey to Egypt all of the brothers were forced to grow up, leaving the security of their father, and entrusting their fate into Joseph’s hands.

It was also a test for the brothers. How would they deal with the favoured son this time? Would he face a similar fate as Joseph, sold into slavery and separated from his family? Or would the brothers show that they were siblings who were prepared to assume responsibility for each other outside of Jacob’s home, ignoring his favouritism and the challenges which it presented.

It was at that moment, when they were all freed from the parental house, that the brothers could truly be reconciled making peace with each other.