Watching From Afar, Seeing Beyond the Moment

This devar Torah by Rabbi Kenigsberg was first published in yesterday's Hanassi Highlights.

When a Jewish child is placed in a small basket among the reeds of the Nile, the Torah tells us that his sister, Miriam stood watch over him—“Va-tetatzav achoto me-rachok, le-de’ah mah ye’aseh lo”—she stood from afar, to know what would be done to him. What is the significance of the Torah's description that she watched him from afar?

The Torah is giving us far more than a description of Miriam's physical location. Rather, it is teaching us about her long-term vision. The story begins long before that riverbank scene. Rashi (Shemot 2:1) describes a moment of crushing despair. Amram, leader of his generation, divorced his wife Yocheved as a result of Pharaoh’s decree that every Jewish newborn boy be cast into the Nile. His logic was unassailable: why bring children into a world where they are condemned at birth? But his daughter Miriam challenged him. “Your decree is harsher than Pharaoh’s,” she said. Pharaoh condemned the boys; yet Amram, by separating from his wife, denied the entire Jewish future. Amram relented, remarried Yocheved, and as a result Moshe was born.

Yet, again, crisis struck. The baby had to be hidden, cast into the river. Salvation still seemed far off. But Miriam was able to look beyond, longing for historical destiny to take its course.

Even as a child, Miriam understood that redemption is rarely announced with fanfare. It is incubated in reeds, hidden in the margins of history, advanced by those who refuse to surrender to despair. She stood from afar because she was not merely observing a basket—she was tracking a promise. Would the covenant made with Avraham, that his descendants would become a nation and ultimately inherit their land, be fulfilled? She watched, waiting to see how her seemingly small act—persuading her father to remarry—would ripple outward toward redemption.

Today, Miriam’s posture is ours to emulate. We live in a world that pushes us to react instantly, to measure success in news cycles and viral moments. But the deeper story of the Jewish people has always been written by those who can stand back far enough to ask: Where will this lead? What does this moment demand of our destiny? It is not distance that breeds indifference; it is distance that enables perspective.

Like Miriam, we do not always see the end of the story immediately. But we can be confident through the historic moment in which we live that the small, faithful acts—of service, learning, courage, and hope—are far more than footnotes. They are the reeds from which the next chapter grows.

Miriam watched a basket and saw redemption. May we too merit the vision and clarity to recognize our place in the great puzzle of Jewish history.

Shabbat Shalom!

The Light of Moshe Rabbenu: Lessons in Leadership, Redemption, and Torah

The early chapters of Shemot introduce us to a seemingly simple story: the birth of Moshe Rabbenu, a child hidden by his mother for three months to protect him from Pharaoh’s officers. Yet, within these sparse verses lies a profound spiritual narrative, rich with lessons on creation, leadership, and the enduring resilience of the Jewish people. Our member Rabbi Paul Bloom explains.

A New Creation: The Spiritual Light of Moshe

Rashi describes Moshe as “ki tov hu,” a lovely child. At first glance, this seems obvious—every mother sees her child as beautiful. The Ran, however, asks: what is special here? The answer lies in a deeper understanding: Moshe’s birth represents a new creation, echoing the beginning of the universe. Just as God created light at the dawn of time (Bereishit 1:3), Moshe enters the world as a vessel of spiritual illumination.

This is not ordinary light. Rashi explains that the light of the first day was hidden—a spiritual light, reserved for the righteous. The Zohar adds that this light symbolizes divine wisdom and the power of Torah. Moshe’s mother recognized that her child was not just beautiful in appearance but radiated an inner spiritual light, a force capable of guiding the Jewish people through darkness and oppression. This hidden light is emblematic of God’s presence in the world. Even in the most difficult circumstances, sparks of holiness exist, waiting to be nurtured and brought into the open.

The Challenge of Redemption: Moshe at the Burning Bush

When God commands Moshe to redeem the Israelites, he hesitates—not once, but four times. Why would the prophet tasked with leading the people resist his divine mission?

The first reason is practical: the Israelites had spent over two centuries in Egypt, immersed in idolatry and moral corruption. To Moshe, the task seemed impossible. Yet God knew what Moshe could not: the Jewish soul contains an indestructible spark, capable of returning to holiness even from the lowest depths. The midrash emphasizes that, even at the nadir of spiritual decline, the potential for redemption remains.

Moshe’s reluctance also reflects a profound ethical sensitivity. Applying the principles of Derech Eretz, he hesitated out of respect for his older brother, Aharon. Leadership, he understood, is not simply about power or position; it requires consideration, respect, and moral integrity. Only when assured that Aharon would support him did Moshe accept the mission.

These lessons resonate today: redemption often seems impossible, and leadership is never easy. Yet with patience, ethical discernment, and faith, transformation is always possible.

Torah as a Guide: Beyond the Literal Word

Moshe’s leadership also exemplifies the proper engagement with Torah. When counting the Israelites, he refrained from entering the tents of nursing infants, showing respect for their dignity. The Torah is not merely a set of literal commands; it is a moral and spiritual guide, requiring thoughtful interpretation and ethical application.

The Zohar likens Moshe to a lens, focusing divine light into the world. His leadership demonstrates that spiritual guidance, ethical sensitivity, and wisdom are inseparable. True understanding of the Torah, like leadership itself, requires depth, reflection, and insight.

Conclusion: Lessons for Our Lives

From Moshe’s birth and mission, three key lessons emerge:

1. Every spark of light matters. Just as Moshe brought spiritual illumination into the world, each of us can bring light through our actions, words, and choices.
2. Redemption is possible, even from the lowest point. Spiritual and moral renewal is always within reach, no matter how far someone has strayed.
3. Ethical discernment is essential to leadership. Courage alone is not enough; wisdom, morality, and respect are integral to guiding others.

The story of Moshe Rabbenu reminds us that even in darkness, light can emerge. It teaches us that leadership, redemption, and Torah are deeply intertwined, and that every individual carries within them a spark capable of illuminating the world.

Moses the Anonymous Egyptian

We have read the story of Moshe Rabbeinu so often that we surely haven't missed anything--have we? But the deeper one digs, more the Torah text reveals, and it is the Torah that sweeps away our preconceptions and misconceptions. Our member Rabbi Steven Ettinger explains:

Moshe Rabbeinu is perhaps the greatest and most influential figure in the history of the Jewish People. He was their redeemer, lawgiver, leader, prophet, defender, sustainer, and teacher.  While the Torah is blueprint for all of creation, it is also named “the Five Books of Moses.” 

Our perceptions of Moshe are of a larger-than-life figure. Midrashim tell tales of his remarkable youthful exploits – being tested by Pharaoh as an infant and travels and conquests in African lands. Popular culture has even created an image of a “Prince of Egypt.”  A careful reading of the parasha however tells a very different story.  Moses was initially a rather anonymous and inconsequential Egyptian man. His birth story was interesting but, until Hashem’s initial revelation to him, he was basically a nobody.

A Levite man went and took a Levite woman and they had a child. At this point all identities are insignificant, anonymous and irrelevant. The narrative is familiar -- so, skipping ahead, Pharoh’s daughter notices the child floating in the Nile and directs an attending maiden to retrieve him. She is compassionate toward what is obviously (to her) a Hebrew child.

The Midrash and most readers of the text interpret Shemot 7:10 in the narrative as Pharaoh’s daughter (i) adopting the child as her own, (ii) naming him Moshe (“because he was drawn from the water”) and agreeing to his care by Jewish nursemaids (not in that order).  However, as one reads these verses and the subsequent text, this is not what happened.

The child was taken by the princess’s retainer from the water, but he certainly could not have been raised by her. Thus, she was put in the care of nursemaids. After a period of time when he grew (Shrmot 2:10), he was brought before her. This implies that there was no previous relationship between them. Linguistically, the Torah creates a Hebrew narrative that, in fact differs from the actual (and the actual is more consistent with all that follows).

To digress for a moment. The Egyptian suffix mss (or mosses) means “son of” or “child”. The best example of this is the line of Egyptian royalty that adopted the name Ramses – Ra was their main deity, the Sun God – thus Ramses was the “son of” the Sun God. In this instance, to Pharoh’s daughter this boy was NOT a son, he was merely moses (with a small m), a child that she had compassion for.

This conclusion is supported by logic, by fact and by the six verses that follow:

1.     In ancient times a princess was currency, a political asset to be married off to rulers of other kingdoms or to important noblemen.   Logic dictates that such a princess could not have had a son identified with her.

2.     In Shemot 2:11, Moshe goes out to see his “brothers” and he sees their burdens (“sivlotam”). This word, sivlotam is used only one other place, in Shemot 1:11 – and it refers to the burdens of the Egyptians (see Rashi on that verse).  This being so, the main burden of the work and taxes was on the Egyptians (as they were the vast majority of the population, the Jews were still a small minority). They were also involved in the harsh labor; It was their burdens that Moshe went out to witness!  He was a compassionate person and reacted to the scene he was witnessing. Had he been a prince, he would have been able to order the taskmaster to stop – but he was merely an “ish” an Egyptian commoner!

3.     In Shemot 2:14 as he witnesses the two Jews fighting, they refer to him simply as an “ish”. Moshe is afraid, again, as we see in the next verse (Shemot 2:15), because he is merely a common Egyptian.  He is not viewed as the son, real or adopted, of Pharaoh’s daughter.  He has no privilege.

4.     Finally. as he flees to exile in Midian, in Shemot. 2:19 Yitro’s daughters identify him as an Egyptian man (“ish Mitzri”).

In summary, until Hashem reached out to Moshe through the sneh (the burning bush), he likely did not know anything about his heritage or of the destiny of the Jewish people. He may not have even known anything of Hashem, only the pagan gods of Egypt. It is quite telling that, when Hashem addresses Moshe, he first explains that he is God of his fathers Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov (Shemot 6:13). In other words, He reveals to Moshe his identity as a Hebrew. Likewise, it is quite telling that, after the shock of this revelation, Moshe’s first words are “mi anochi” – who am I (Shemot 6:11)?

Moshe was no longer an anonymous Egyptian man. He was now the greatest Jew who ever lived, tasked with ending his people’s Exile.  All of his capabilities had lain dormant within him, awaiting the exact moment for them to emerge. May the latent abilities of the anonymous Mashiach who hopefully is walking among us soon be realized.

Postscript

After I developed the thoughts and structure of this devar Torah, I found a very similar analysis in Rabbi Zvi Grument’s new Book, Exodus: The Genesis of God’s People (Maggid Books, Jerusalem, 2025) pp. 15-26.

What makes a great leader? Shemot 5785

The Torah, Jewish history and tradition all show us that Heaven often chooses unusual people for roles that are essential and pivotal in Jewish leadership. King David is a clear example of this historical phenomenon. But I think that we can agree that the choice of Moshe as the redeemer and eternal teacher of the Jewish people, if not of all civilization, is at first blush a strange one. 

Moshe became separated from the Jewish people for decades. He had faced the death penalty under Egyptian law for striking an Egyptian taskmaster who was beating a Jewish slave;  so he escaped and became a shepherd in Midian, far removed from his brethren suffering in Egyptian bondage.  And, when presented by Heaven with the offer of Jewish leadership, he declined it forcefully. But the will of Heaven prevailed, as is always the case.   

Moshe must now embark on his new leadership role, albeit seemingly reluctantly.  He himself wonders why he is chosen when, logically, his brother Aaron would seem to be a better fit for the mission. And perhaps just as amazing as the choice of Moshe for this position of leadership is the willingness of the Jewish people to accept him instantly as their leader. 

To most of the Jewish people he is a stranger, an outsider who has a speech impediment and is, at most, a Johnny-come-lately to their troubles and situation.  Yet again we see that it is the will of Heaven that prevails, and it is only through Moshe that the story of the Exodus from Egypt will unfold.   

Moshe, it transpires, has outstanding qualities and character traits that make him the greatest leader in Jewish and world history.  Foremost among these attributes is his humility. While all leaders must have an appreciation of their talents and their self-worth, oftentimes this becomes their undoing as their egos grow and they become arrogant.  Not so Moshe: even after forty years of leading his people, the Torah still describes Moshe as being the most humble of all human beings on the face of the earth. 

Though it is this trait that makes him the greatest of all past and future prophets, Moshe also has within himself an unquenchable love for his people.  His love for them is sorely tested many times during his career as their leader but, in spite of all of their backsliding, sins, rebellions and mutterings, it is Moshe’s love of the people that remains ever-present and steadfast. As King Solomon wrote:  "Love obliterates all transgressions.”  Finally, Moshe’s path to complete the mission that Heaven thrust upon him never wavers, no matter what the events and circumstances may be. 

These noble traits and characteristics are apparently what the Almighty searches for in assigning leaders to our people.  Moshe is the model for future Jewish leaders in all generations to come. 

Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein

The Birth of Moshe Rabbenu, Divine Light, and Leadership

In this week's parsha, Shemot, we are introduced to Moshe Rabbenu, the great leader who would guide the Israelites from slavery in Egypt to freedom. The opening verses describe the birth of Moshe, as his mother Yocheved sees something extraordinary in him:

וַתַּ֥הַר הָאִשָּׁ֖ה וַתֵּ֣לֶד בֵּ֑ן וַתֵּ֤רֶא אֹתוֹ֙ כִּי־ט֣וֹב ה֔וּא וַֽתִּצְפְּנֵ֖הוּ שְׁלֹשָׁ֥ה יְרָחִֽים

"The woman conceived and bore a son; and when she saw how beautiful he was, she hid him for three months" (Exodus 2:2).

This description has sparked a deep exploration by commentators. The words "ki tov" (“how beautiful”) seem to be a simple statement of a mother’s love for her child. However, Ramban asks: What exactly does "ki tov" mean here? Every mother thinks her child is beautiful, so what is being highlighted?

Rashi explains that the light in the room when Moshe was born was not ordinary—his presence illuminated the space around him. But what type of light are we talking about? The connection between Moshe’s birth and the "ki tov" mentioned in the creation story is significant. In Bereshit (Genesis 1:4), the phrase "ki tov" is used to describe the original light of creation, a light that transcends the physical and represents a higher spiritual energy. This light was hidden away after the creation of the world, and it is known as Or HaGanuz—the concealed light, a spiritual force reserved for the righteous in the World to Come, it is a light of pure ruchniut. This light, according to Rashi, was not the natural light of the sun created on day four of creation. Instead, it is a divine, spiritual light—a manifestation of Hashem’s presence in the world. And where was this light hidden? It was hidden in the Torah.

From the moment of Moshe’s birth he carried this light, which would later be reflected in his face when he descended from Mount Sinai after receiving the Torah. His face radiated so brightly that he needed to wear a veil. This spiritual illumination, which began with Moshe's birth, represents his unique role in the redemption of Israel and the revelation of Hashem's presence to the world.

The Kli Yakar asks why Yocheved hid Moshe for three months. He explains that this light, which symbolizes emunah (faith) and inspiration, was too powerful to be exposed to the outside world prematurely. It was a light that Yocheved, as well as Batya (the daughter of Pharaoh), recognized as a sign that Moshe was no ordinary child. It was the light of divine presence and the potential to lead the Israelites to redemption.

Moshe’s Appointment at the Burning Bush

As the parsha progresses, we see Moshe’s appointment at the burning bush, 80 years after his birth. Moshe, having grown up in Pharaoh's palace, is reluctant to accept the mission to redeem Bnei Yisrael. He offers two reasons: first, he doubts that he can convince Pharaoh to let the Israelites go, and second, he believes that the Israelites, after centuries of slavery, will not have the strength to oppose Pharaoh.

The Significance of Moshe’s Reluctance

When Hashem commands Moshe at the burning bush, Moshe initially resists. He refuses four times, citing reasons such as, "I cannot do this," and "They will not believe me." This refusal stands in contrast to the typical response of other prophets, who answer with the phrase "Hineni" (Here I am). What accounts for Moshe’s reluctance?

The Or HaChaim explains that Moshe could not fathom how the Israelites, immersed in the spiritual and moral impurity of Egypt, could ever be redeemed. He saw them as having reached the 49th level of impurity, and he thought it was impossible to bring them out. Yet Hashem’s response to Moshe is that it may seem impossible, but there is a spiritual link that can be restored. Indeed, only a fraction of the Israelites, those who demonstrated faith by marking their doors with blood during the final plague, would merit redemption. The fire of the burning bush symbolizes the immorality and spiritual contamination of Egypt, but the bush itself is indestructible. This teaches us that, even from the lowest levels, there is hope for redemption, and Moshe was chosen to find that spark of holiness within the Israelites and lead them out.

Rabbi Chaim Shmuelevitz offers another perspective, focusing on the concept of derech eretz (proper conduct). Moshe, who had an older brother, Aaron, saw him as the natural leader. Moshe was reluctant to take on the leadership role because of his humility and respect for his brother. This is a powerful lesson in leadership—Moshe did not act out of personal ambition, but from a sense of divine duty and humility.

Hashem answers Moshe with the phrase "אהיה אשר אהיה" ("I am that I am"). This phrase, unique to our parsha, alludes to a profound spiritual truth: Hashem’s presence transcends both the past and the future. According to Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch, the name Elokim refers to Hashem’s role in creation and the ongoing process of sustaining the world. However, "אהיה אשר אהיה" refers to the future redemption, signaling that Hashem will be with Bnei Yisrael in the future, guiding them through the exodus and eventual redemption.

The Meshech Chochmah connects the gematria of "אהיה" (which is 21) to the Tefillin, which is mentioned in the next week’s parsha. Rambam in Hilchot Tefillin teaches that the name of Hashem appears 21 times in the Tefillin, both in the Shel Rosh and Shel Yad. The Tefillin, with its association to the number 21, represents the spiritual connection between Hashem and the Jewish people. Through this connection, Bnei Yisrael have the strength to overcome their own negativity and ultimately bring Hashem’s presence into the world. The Rambam says that the kedusha of the Tefillin is greater than that of the tzitz worn on the head of the Kohen Gadol, where it is mentioned only once.

Tefillin is the secret weapon of klal yisrael.

The shel yad is the private strength of Bnei Yisrael to overcome their own negativity and overcome the Yetzer Harah.

The shel rosh is the public connection to Hashem that the goyim will eventually recognize the Shem Hashem.

Meshech Chochmah says that the gematria of the two אהיהs is 42. The ultimate name of Hashem has 42 letters mentioned in Gemara Kedushin. 42 is the number with which God creates the Universe in Kabbalistic tradition. In Kabbalah, the most significant name is that of the En Sof (also known as "Ein Sof", "Infinite" or "Endless")

The closest we get to understanding the 42 letter name of Hashem is the prayer Ana b’ Koach, which has 42 words. Each word represents one of the 42 letters of Hashem's name . There is a sefer called Ner Yisrael that explains Ana B’Koach.

Conclusion: Spiritual Light, Redemption, and Torah Study

The parsha of Shemot is rich with lessons for us. We see the light associated with Moshe’s birth—this divine light represents the creation of the Jewish people and their eventual redemption. We also learn that even those who have reached the lowest spiritual levels, as the Israelites had in Egypt, can still be redeemed. Moshe Rabbenu, in his role as leader, embodies these redemptive powers.

Finally, the parsha teaches the importance of delving deeply into the words of Torah. We should not merely take them at face value, but strive to understand the deeper, more profound meanings that are hidden within. Just as Moshe’s mission seemed impossible, so too does the task of bringing redemption to the world—but with faith, humility, and a commitment to the study of Torah, we can bring Hashem’s light into the world.

May we all merit to see the effects of the Or HaGanuz and bring the divine light into our lives, strengthening our connection to Hashem and to one another.