Moshe having grown up in the palace, had not experienced the challenges of the Jewish nation. And so, the day came when he made his way into the fields to see the plight of his brethren. It was there that he observed an Egyptian taskmaster mercilessly beating a Jewish slave. Moshe unable to stand by and witness this unprovoked brutality, stepped in and killed the Egyptian. The next day, Moshe ventured out again.

He went out on the second day, and behold, two Hebrew men were quarreling, and he said to the wicked one, “Why are you going to strike your friend?” (Exodus 2:13)

These two Jews did not take kindly to Moshe’s intervention and delivered a nuanced threat to disclose that Moshe had killed the Egyptian. Moshe understood that he was no longer safe in Egypt and fled to Midyan.

Rashi provides a fascinating insight regarding the altercation between these two Jews.
Although he had not struck him, he is called wicked for [merely] raising his hand [to strike him].

Moshe called the aggressor wicked for merely raising his hand against the other. But why? Although he threatened to strike, he didn’t actually do so. Why would Moshe call him a “rasha”?

The Lubavitcher Rebbe (Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, 1902-1994) advances a truly beautiful explanation. Each and every part of the body has two functions. There is the utilitarian, everyday use, and then there is a higher purpose use. The hand serves many day-to-day functions which allow us to perform useful tasks and earn a livelihood. On a higher level, the hand’s sacred purpose is to do and give to the other. Hashem gave me hands so I can outstretch them to embrace and deliver blessing to the other. I can extend my hand as a display of peace and give to those in need. If I use that very same hand to visit harm and hurt upon others, I am misusing a sacred gift. That misuse is sinful and as such, the culpable individual is called a “rasha.” Therefore, the mere act of lifting one’s hand against another is sinful. Even if I don’t strike, being poised and ready to hurt is a transgression. Moshe understood this and tried to convey this message to his brethren.

Hashem gives us many gifts. Each part of our body, each part of our life contains so much beautiful blessing. We must recognize and appreciate these gifts and understand that each gift/blessing comes with obligations and responsibilities. We must use our body, our strength, and our physical ability to benefit the other. My hand must be outstretched, ready to visit assistance and blessing to all who need.

Republished from 5780

Servitude had begun. Our Egyptian hosts turned into our oppressors. Bondage and slavery had replaced civility and coexistence. Pharaoh decreed, “Kol ha’beyn ha’yilod ha’yiorah tashlichu’hu (Cast every baby boy into the river).” Yocheved hid her infant son for as long as she could. After three months, she could hide him no longer, and on that fateful day, she fashioned a basket and set him afloat in the Nile, saying goodbye to her son forever. Then something amazing occurred.

“Pharaoh’s daughter went down to bathe, to the Nile, and her maidens were walking along the Nile, and she saw the basket in the midst of the marsh, and she sent her maidservant, and she took it.” (Exodus 2:5)

Rashi explains the phrase “she sent her maidservant” can also be interpreted to mean “she outstretched her arm.” The Talmud explains that the daughter of Pharaoh extended her arm to grab the basket, a miracle occurred, and her arm extended beyond its normal reach.

The great Chassidic master, Rav Menachem Mendel of Kotzk (1787-1859) is perplexed by this Talmudic passage. Why would Pharaoh’s daughter stretch out her arm to grab something which was clearly out of reach? A person can easily gauge what is within their reach and it appears that the basket was a significant distance away (as evidenced by the fact that a miracle was needed). Why even try to grab it? The answer is quite profound. Sometimes in life you just have to try. You just have to extend your hand and attempt to grab your goals, dreams and aspirations. There are many things in life which look “too far away.” There are many initiatives, ideas, and finish lines which look out of reach. This is where our relationship with God comes in. God whispers in our ear, “Stretch out your hand, put in the effort, push yourself as hard as you can, and just when you think your reach has ended, I will extend your grasp a bit more. Where your human limitations begin is where I will partner with you and extend your reach.” The daughter of Pharaoh did not know how she would reach the basket, but she knew she had to try.

Too many times in life we look at an aspiration or goal and tell ourselves, “it’s too far, it’s out of my reach, no way I can accomplish this feat, it simply looks impossible.” The truth is, anything that is comfortably within reach is usually not worth having. The very things you have to stretch and exert for are the things which infuse meaning into life. Our life’s mandate and mission is to dream beautiful dreams and stretch as far as we can to bring them to fruition. If the dream is truly holy and important then God will extend our reach and help us actualize our aspirations.

Servitude had begun. Our Egyptian hosts turned into our oppressors, bondage and slavery had replaced civility and coexistence. Pharaoh decreed, “Kol ha’beyn ha’yilod ha’yiorah tashlichu’hu (Cast every baby boy into the river).” Yocheved hid her infant son for as long as she could. After three months she could hide him no longer, and on that fateful day she fashioned a basket and set him afloat in the Nile, saying goodbye to her son forever. Then something amazing occurred.

“Pharaoh’s daughter went down to bathe, to the Nile, and her maidens were walking along the Nile, and she saw the basket in the midst of the marsh, and she sent her maidservant, and she took it.” (Exodus 2:5)

Rashi explains the phrase “she sent her maidservant” can also be interpreted to mean “she outstretched her arm.” The Talmud explains that the daughter of Pharaoh extended her arm to grab the basket, a miracle occurred, and her arm extended beyond its normal reach.

The great Chassidic master, Rav Menachem Mendel of Kotzk (1787-1859) is perplexed by this Talmudic passage. Why would Pharaoh’s daughter stretch out her arm to grab something which was clearly out of reach? A person can easily gauge what is within their reach and it appears that the basket was a significant distance away (as evidenced by the fact that a miracle was needed). Why even try to grab it? The answer is quite profound. Sometimes in life you just have to try. You just have to extend your hand and attempt to grab your goals, dreams and aspirations. There are many things in life which look “too far away.” There are many initiatives, ideas, finish lines which look out of reach. This is where our relationship with God comes in. God whispers in our ear, “Stretch out your hand, put in the effort, push yourself as hard as you can and just when you think your reach has ended, I will extend your grasp a bit more. Where your human limitations begin is where I will partner with you and extend your reach.” The daughter of Pharaoh did not know how she would reach the basket, but she knew she had to try.

Too many times in life we look at an aspiration or goal and tell ourselves, “it’s too far, it’s out of my reach, no way I can accomplish this feat, it simply looks impossible.” The truth is anything that is comfortably within reach, is usually not worth having. The very things you have to stretch and exert for are the things which infuse meaning into life. Our life mandate and mission is to dream beautiful dreams and stretch as far as we can to bring them to fruition. If the dream is truly holy and important then God will extend our reach and help us actualize our aspirations.

It all changed so dramatically. What began as an idyllic existence (albeit in a foreign land) soured over time. Pharaoh created national hysteria by telling his people that the Hebrews would overrun the Egyptian population and take over the culture and country. The Egyptians, scared by this prospect, gave Pharaoh the license to “take care of the problem.” Jews were conscripted for national service which ultimately turned into slavery. Free men became beasts of burden and Jewish children were thrown into the Nile. What had begun as a safe, secure and prosperous existence evolved into a life of oppression, tragedy, difficulty and despair. For years the Children of Israel cried out to God. They looked to the Heavens for answers and salvation. But God was silent. Then, one day something changed.

“Now it came to pass in those many days that the king of Egypt died, and the children of Israel sighed from the labor, and they cried out, and their cry ascended to God from the labor. God heard their cry, and God remembered His covenant with Abraham, with Isaac, and with Jacob. And God saw the children of Israel, and God knew.”  (Exodus 2:23-25).

Why did God hear the tortured cries of people now when He had not “heard” them before? What was it about these above-mentioned cries that triggered the start of the redemptive process?

The Ramban (Rabbi Moses ben Nachman, 1194-1270) explains that although the people did not possess the requisite merit for redemption; their prayers were so heartfelt that God had no choice but to hear their voices and ameliorate their plight. We learn from this episode that the most effective prayer is one that emanates from a broken heart. When a person is suffering and turns to God (recognizing that God is the only one who can help lighten their load) their prayer carries with it an incredible energy and ability to effect change.

The Ohr HaChaim (Rabbi Hayyim Ibn Atar, 1696-1743) takes a different approach. Unlike the Ramban who understands the “cries” of the people as prayer, the Ohr HaChaim explains that they did not pray at all. “They did not cry to God to save them, rather, they cried as a person cries out from physical pain. The verse teaches us, that their cry (of pain) came before God.”

But if they did not pray to God, why did their cries of physical pain move God to such a great degree? If indeed God felt saddened by their pain, why was He not moved to action earlier?

The Beis HaLevi (Rav Yosef Dov HaLevi Soloveitchik, 1820-1892) explains that when a person must contend with suffering and tragic loss, one becomes so focused on survival that they lose the full awareness of how much has been lost. He gives an example of a man who was once wealthy and becomes impoverished. At first, he laments the loss of his wealth. He yearns for the trappings of his lavish lifestyle and constantly compares his previous standing with his current one. However, as time goes on he gets used to his new life situation and begins to forget the full extent of his previous life. Over time he begins to see himself as a pauper and not as someone who once possessed great wealth. His focus on his present begins to obscure the true nature of the past. He must devote his energies to surviving and does not have the luxury of mourning for what has been lost.  He stops thinking of the wealth of his past and begins to solely focus on survival in the present.

This is what happened to our ancestors. As the years of servitude progressed, the Jewish slave began to forget that he was ever free. He began to forget that he was Reuven, Shimon and Levi...; he began to forget that we were once a reflection of all that was beautiful and holy; he began to forget that he possessed Abraham’s kindness, Isaac’s strong will and Jacob’s fortitude. Over time our ancestors began to lose their sense of self and connection to their identity.

This is the meaning of the Ohr HaChaim. Amid their agony and pain, they did not pray. Prayer is the dialogical connection to God and to our inner self. Prayer reminds us that we are spiritual beings. Our ancestors lost their connection to their inner spiritual self. They forgot how to pray. When you forget who you are and what you are, the only thing you can do is cry out in visceral pain.

When God realized that His beloved people were losing their sense of self, He had no choice but to initiate the Redemption process. Without a sense of self, there is no future. A people who forget who they are is a people who will be lost in the sands of time. God heard our prayer-less cries and began the process of salvation.

We all encounter challenges and struggles throughout life. There are situations that are so grueling and demanding that we feel we must use all our life energy just to stay afloat. We must make sure that even in such difficult predicaments we never lose our sense of self. No matter how demanding the circumstances of our existence may be, we must always remember who we were, who we are and who we are destined to become.