Gershom the son of Moshe was
given this name because his father said ‘I was a sojourner in a strange land.’
This is a message for all of us in our journey during this life. We need to
know that we are  souls not bodies and
should never feel overly attached or bound to anything which is physical or
temporal. At the same time we need to realize that we our helpless to achieve
this goal without help therefore the other son of Moshe was named Eliezer which
the pasuk tells us means: “The G-d of my father came to my aid, and he saved me
from the sword of Pharaoh.” These pasukim can help to enlighten our own
personal lives through teaching us it is not enough even to know and strive for
the truth but we also need assistance in achieving it. Yes, we need to make the
effort as seen in the name Gershom which contains the root letters of to
divorce or  separate oneself from
undesirable lifestyles, but the true salvation comes through turning sincerely
to Hashem who will surely save us. It is that act of self nullification and
selflessness that allowed Moshe Rabbinu to become the great leader yet
remaining humble of spirit.

                 Let us explore another point
that will aid us in our personal service with Hashem. We mentioned that the
name of Moshe’s firstborn son, Gershom, 
and reason for giving it was stated in 2: 22. The Or HaChaim answers the
question why he named this child Gershom – which means: ‘ I have been a
stranger in a foreign land’ and the second Eliezer – which means:  Hashem helps- since the help from Hashem to
allow Moshe to escape Pharaoh took place before Moshe’s exile with this beautiful
idea. Like all righteous people who desire and yearn for closeness to G-d,
Moshe felt like a stranger on earth his whole life.

               By the briss of the second son,
Eliezer, in pusack 4: 25 there is no mention of his name. Only when Yisro brings
his daughter, Moshe’s wife and her two sons to join Moshe in the desert does
the Torah mention the name of the second son and the reason for this name (
Yisro 18: 1 – 8). Why the delay in announcing this name till here?

           Perhaps the reason that Eliezer is
not mentioned by name till now is to teach us that often during one’s personal
feeling of galus (exile or trials) it isn’t yet apparent the help and salvation
that is being offered to us from Hashem. We tend to focus on and view life from
the Gershom perspective – that being feeling like a stranger and almost
abandoned. Although this is not the true prospective as every exile and test is
perfectly fitted to help us achieve new levels of awareness and closeness with
Hashem if we are not exceedingly careful we could fall into this trap of
feeling like distant and not yet strengthened in Hashem salvation. The Torah
now revealing the name of the second son, Eliezer, to teach us a profound
observation into reality. Only now that the Torah was given will each
individual irregardless of their spiritual level have the ability to constantly
see the help of Hashem even within the midst of exile and tests.

           As we emerge from our personal
Mitzraims (narrowness) and journey toward the eternal goals in the proper
service of Hashem, then is more and more revealed that portion of understanding
and clarity that is expressed through the name Eliezer – that being that it was
and will always be the G-d of my father that 
comes to my aid’. May we merit closeness and awareness of Hashem at all
times.

All articles appearing on this blog are copyrighted by Rabbi Yehoshua Binyamin Falk. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to share/download/copy this information as long as it is accompanied by the copyright. Separately authored/copyrighted materia

                “He who recites
the chapter of the (Manna) ‘Heavenly bread’, written in Torah section (Parshas
Beshalach)  (16: 4-36) every day is
assured that he will not lack food” Talmud (Gem. Yerushalmi). The commentator (Levush)
explains that this chapter teaches that G-d provides each day’s substance –
just as He provided the manna each day in the wilderness.

                   Would that we could see with the pure eyes
of a child for whom the world is filled by Hashem with wonder and delight.
Imagine the reaction of the younger members of the generation of the desert (Dor
Hamidbar), who only received their nourishment from the “heavenly bread,”
entered the land (Eretz) Yisrael and saw agricultural produce growing from the ground,
they no doubt considered it a supernatural event.  We, on the other hand, see our food as common
place taking it for granted, but consider the life support system that provided
food, water, and protection to 3,000,000 men, women and children along with
their herds and flocks in the desert for forty years that was truly an open
miracle.  Yet, both systems are part of
G-d’s (Hashem’s) miraculous governance of the world –  a Divine providence (hashgacha) that can be
perceived by us as miraculous if we but choose to take the opportunity to do so.

             The Mann was a wondrous source of nourishment.
The sustenance provided to us in the desert (midbar) did not require the
expenditure of physical effort, nor were needed any of the labor intensive tasks
ordinarily associated with the growth and production of food and its
preparation.  We might, therefore, be
tempted to think that the generation of the midbar was not only freed from the
obligation of earning a living but absolved of all of the challenges related to
this endeavor.  However, such is not the
case.

The unique challenge of the Dor Hamidbar lay in
the fact that they had absolutely no physical control over their food, water or
protection. Thus they were simultaneously confronted with the test of feeling
vulnerable to the elements while at the same time experiencing complete
dependence upon the benevolence of the Creator.

In fact every single necessity upon which their
physical well being depended was not in their “hands”.  They had no fertile land, no rivers teaming
with life, no reservoirs filled with water or towering forests to provide
timber and game.  They had no homes and
no sense of permanency. Although a tremendous surplus of manna fell each day, each
person was allowed to collect only what he or she needed for that day alone. With
the exception of the extra portion that was allotted for Shabbos, the manna was
not permitted to remain for even one extra day for if additional manna was
gathered, it would immediately spoil.  Thus
they were never able to establish any “physical security” or feeling of
independence.  

            Though it would seem
that they were able to obtain manna without effort or exertion, that is far
from the truth. The efforts that the Dor Hamidbar had to make in order to “earn”
their food, was a constant “exercise”  in
(faith) emunah and trust (bitachon) at the highest level, as the Sages inform
us: “Who is strong? One who surrenders his inclination to the will of Hashem.”

The reward for these efforts was a “spiritual food”
that nourished the body by feeding the soul. Like all things spiritual it had
no physical limitations or boundaries and was not the subject of the natural
laws of cause and effect.  Each person
received the same size portion regardless of size or weight and yet each person
felt satiated . (The message to be found within this phenomenon is very
profound in that at the level of pure soul we are all equal and therefore each
individual received the same sized portion.)  However, there were certain differences that
each person experienced dependant on their spiritual level. If the Mann was
left close or far away, and the need of preparation and flavor were based on
the level of one’s righteousness.

  The more virtuous found their portions ready
to eat at the entrance of their tent, while the less upright had to search further
a field and then prepare it according to their needs. These distinctions served
as a daily “bench mark” of one’s spiritual level and thereby served as an
incentive to constantly improve.

          Perhaps we can say that the placement of
the portion of the manna at a specified distance from the recipient reflected
that individual’s level of awareness of Hashem’s governance, the hashgacha
pratis within that person’s life.

        The degree of preparedness of the manna can be
understood as reflecting the dimension of time. The amount of time spent in
excessive preparation is time lost from its potential supernal enjoyment.

             Now
perhaps we can understand why Chazal teach us  that those who recite the section (Perek) of
the Mann every day are  assured that they
will not lack food, because recitation of this chapter is our acknowledgement,  in Divine hashgacha, that it is the Creator who
is the true provider for everything in its right place and proper time.

All articles appearing on this blog are copyrighted by Rabbi Yehoshua Binyamin Falk. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to share/download/copy this information as long as it is accompanied by the copyright. Separately authored/copyrighted materia

               In a few impacting verses (pesukim)
in the beginning of the Book of Exodus (Sefer Shemos) , the Torah sets
in motion the political and emotional forces that were to keep the children of
Israel in bondage for the next two hundred and ten years.  These same forces have operated as a snare
throughout history and are present today, only the stage setting has been
specially designed to lure this generations unwary into its web of spiritual
bondage. The mindset that led to their subjugation in Egypt was their
yearning to be like everyone else – to assimilate into the culture of whatever
country they found themselves in. There are those who in their eagerness to be a
part of the culture, may mistakenly replace their service of the Creator (Hashem)
with loyal service to the governing regime in a manner far beyond and above
that which is required by the ordinary dictates of good citizenship.                     

Pharaoh, who personifies the
Jewish nemesis, the yetzer hara, understood that as long as the Jewish
people were living in accordance with high standard of spiritual development
referred to as the “Children of (Bnei) Israel,” he would not be able to
subjugate them.  They were the
beneficiaries of Hashem’s promise to Avraham our forefather (Avinu) In order to
prevent their assimilation, Hashem transformed the appreciation the Egyptians
previously had into a feeling that the Bnei Israel had become a threat to them.
Pharaoh, then changed its form, face and presentation in order to subjugate the
Israelites and turn them into servants of the state. 

To induce the Israelites to
participate in their building program, the Egyptians hung a brick kiln around
Pharaoh’s neck, inviting the Jews to join him in brick making.  Each man went to work making as many bricks
as possible, which thereafter became the expected quota. The Jews thus became
willing accomplices in their own enslavement, wooed and won over by this appeal
to “love of country.” This technique, oft repeated in Jewish history. 

              Modern society today poses a
different but equally challenging test, by luring its citizens towards the
ephemeral standards of the times. Their value scale of success is graded by
such “yardsticks” as how wealthy and famous one is. The lifestyle that emerges
from this philosophy can be as, if not more, detrimental to spiritual growth
than the servitude imposed by the Egyptians.

          
                              Addicted
to Bondage

By the time the Israelites began
to see the futility and hypocrisy of their alliance with Pharaoh, it was too
late. The Bnei Yisrael were given the task of building arei miskenos,
cities, whose names were Pisom and Ra’amseis. The word miskenos has the
same root as the word miskein which means misfortune or poverty.    Pisom means sudden or
immediate.  It also can refer to the
mouth of the abyss, pi tehom (Midrash Rabba I:10).  Ra’am means loud, like a thunderclap.

            In
our hectic lives, where sudden and immediate claims upon our time are an all
too frequent occurrence, if we are not discerning, we may find that we are
building Pisom.  We may also necessarily
be building Ra’amses, since these calls to duty are usually loud and very
difficult to ignore. One of the ploys of the yetzer hara is to persuade
us that we must accomplish everything we have set out to do which can lead to
feel overwhelmed. Pharaoh well understood that working without respite on
purposeless tasks that could never be completed would weaken the physical,
mental, emotional and most importantly spiritual health of the Nation.

         Acting too quickly and assuming
excessive obligations without enough considered thought as to their value and
purpose can make a person feel as if they are enslaved.  The work was kasha, hard.  This word is related to the word for straw, kash,
to hint to us that work is hard when it is like straw to us, that is, when it
is commonplace and purposeless.   Mortar,
chomer, which in Hebrew also means material, represents that which is stripped
of spiritual content and inspiration. 
Even without purpose and without inspiration we can still produce leveinim,
bricks, but when one works under those circumstances they are reduced to field
laborers (avoda basadeh) deprived of higher motivation, dignity and joy.

                                                            Salvation

But take heart; there is a
way out.  There is an answer that may
surprise us. 

           When we stop and take stock of our
options and our strengths, the time we have, the things we must do in order to
fulfill our obligations as Jews as opposed to those things that we may be doing
to serve some other cultural demand, we may be pleasantly surprised by the
result.  We may be able to simplify our
lives and our goals and live in greater harmony then we ever thought
possible.  The job of the Egyptian
taskmasters was to maximize the burdens upon the Israelites which ultimately
shortened their servitude and enhanced their purification in the caldron that
was Egypt.  It is precisely when the “task masters of
time” bear down upon us that we have the opportunity to cull the necessary from
the unnecessary and focus upon those matters that are essential to our avoda
can be reached by sincerely asking for Hashem’s help in the process. 

This will actualize Pharaoh’s
fear that we will  “go up [be raised up]
from the land.”  “The land” which
represents our physical and mental attachment to this world will no longer have
a hold on us.  When we cleave to Hashem
through His Torah, we will be elevated to a higher level of consciousness
referred to as “the children of (Bnei) Israel.”

The Torah teaches us that the
more the Jewish nation was afflicted the more they increased and spread out.
This means that even during this period when we, as a nation, were far from
reaching the perfect service of Hashem, His Divine Radiance was still with
us.  In the dark and immoral environment
of Egypt,
Israelite slaves, who were deprived of all the benefits that culture and civilization
are thought to bestow, were being forged into a holy nation.  The very harshness of the bondage actually
strengthened the potential in each Israelite, so that when the time was ripe,
Hashem would redeem us. The teaching here is very profound. We do not ask for
tests, but if they come, they can inspire our best performances. From this
spiritual plateau we will not only be free from Pharaoh and Mitzrayim but we
will be able to fulfill the will of the Creator in the holy land of Eretz Israel.

               May we merit this soon in our
days.  

All articles appearing on this blog are copyrighted by Rabbi Yehoshua Binyamin Falk. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to share/download/copy this information as long as it is accompanied by the copyright. Separately authored/copyrighted materia