Rabbiner SONNENFELD, HOROWITZ & Professor DE HAAN (J.P.W. 1923,26)

 

„Jüdische Presse“, Wien 1923, 26

Tag: Gemiluss Chasssudim

“Holiness and Violence” by Professor Yakov M. RABKIN

 

Holiness and Violence. Vaera and Bo (2025) – Exodus 6:2–13:16

 

Yakov M. Rabkin

 

These Torah chapters are read separately on different weeks, but I want to comment on them together. They are filled with spectacular and well-known events, including the Egyptian plagues. Inspired by my colleague Jean-Christophe Attias, I suggest focusing on something different—something seemingly secondary or even incidental: a wooden staff. This focus should shed light on the vital issues of war and peace, violence and holiness.

The staff plays a crucial role in the miracles that abound in Egypt. It first appears in the Exodus story when Moses and his brother Aaron attempt to convince Pharaoh of their divine credentials. Aaron is commanded to take his rod, cast it down before Pharaoh, and it will turn into a snake (7:9–10). Pharaoh is unimpressed and has his court magicians replicate the trick, though Aaron’s staff ultimately swallows theirs (7:11–12).

 The next day, the staff reappears. Following a divine command, Moses tells Aaron: “Take your staff and hold out your arm over the waters of Egypt—its rivers, its canals, its ponds, all its bodies of water—that they may turn to blood…” (7:18). The magicians once again perform the same feat at Pharaoh’s command (7:21).

 As the story builds in intensity, Moses instructs his brother: “Hold out your arm with the rod over the rivers, the canals, and the ponds, and bring up the frogs onto the land of Egypt” (8:1). Aaron follows the command, though apparently without using the staff: “Aaron held out his arm over the waters of Egypt, and the frogs came up and covered the land” (8:2). Once again, the magicians match Aaron’s performance.

 The next plague also involves Aaron wielding the staff: “Hold out your staff and strike the dust of the earth, and it shall turn to lice throughout the land of Egypt.” He does so, and this time, the magicians fail to replicate the miracle. This finally leads Pharaoh to acknowledge divine intervention (8:12–15).

 Several plagues occur without any mention of the staff. It reappears in verse 8:22: “Moses held out his rod toward the sky, and the Lord sent thunder and hail, and fire streamed down to the ground, as the Lord rained down hail upon the land of Egypt.” Here, an inversion occurs: Moses is commanded only to hold out his arm toward the sky (8:21), yet he uses the staff. He does the same to bring the plague of locusts upon Egypt (10:12–13).

 This inconsistency in the use of the staff provokes no disapproval from on high. Moreover, it may be a discursive device to neutralize the natural human temptation to attribute magical properties to it. It is no more than an instrument in carrying out divine designs.

 The remaining plagues unfold without reference to the staff. It resurfaces—if it is indeed the same staff—in the commandment to eat the Passover sacrifice in haste, “with the staff in hand” (12:11).

 The final appearance of the staff in the Exodus story occurs in the iconic moment when Moses splits the sea, carrying out the divine command: “Lift up your staff and hold out your arm over the sea” (Exodus 14:16).

 The staff has, of course, drawn the attention of Jewish sages across generations. Hayim Yosef David Azulai (Hida) (1724–1806) asserts that the staff was engraved with abbreviations of all the plagues, the names of the patriarchs and matriarchs, and even the divine name. More significantly, Jewish tradition holds that the staff was created in the twilight of Creation, alongside nine other miraculous objects, including shamir, a special worm capable of cutting through stone (Pirkei Avot 5:6). Importantly, this list is finite—implying that additional miracles are not meant to occur, reinforcing the idea that “one should not rely on miracles” (Babylonian Talmud, Pesahim 64b).

 The mention of both the staff and shamir in the same breath (or list) suggests something beyond the theme of miracles. Both are natural elements. Moreover, a wooden staff can return to life, sprout, blossom, and bear almonds, as seen in the story of Aaron’s staff (Numbers 17:23). The staff, therefore, retains a connection to life. But a recent Hollywood version of the Exodus story replaces it with a sword. This substitution betrays a lack of sensitivity and discernment, just as many misinterpret reports of incessant mass violence in the Holy Land as harbingers of messianic times.

 The misuse of the staff—let alone wielding a sword—results in Moses being barred from entering the Holy Land. During the Israelites’ wanderings in the desert, they become desperately thirsty and demand water. Moses falls to the ground, seeks divine guidance, and is commanded: “Take the staff (with which you performed all the miracles and wonders), and assemble the congregation—you and Aaron, your brother—and speak to the rock before their eyes, and it will yield its water.” Moses does almost as commanded, but instead of speaking to the rock, he strikes it twice with his staff. A great deal of water flows forth. Yet this act of violence, even against a rock, disqualifies Moses from leading his people into the Promised Land (Numbers 20:5–13). This instance of divine disapproval is clearly explicated: “Because you did not believe in me to sanctify me in the eyes of the children of Israel” (Numbers 20:12). In other words, holiness and violence are declared incompatible.

Shamir embodies the same message. It is believed to be essential in constructing the First Temple in Jerusalem. The worm performs the stonework usually done with metal tools, for the Temple—an embodiment of holiness—cannot be built with iron, the instrument of war. This aversion to warfare is so strong that, despite his exalted status, King David is not permitted to build the Temple. He has waged many wars, and bloodstained hands—like iron—are irreconcilable with the holiness the Temple is meant to represent. Instead, his son Solomon, whose name contains the root shalom (peace) and who rules over an exceptionally peaceful era, was chosen to build it.

 Once again, we see how foreign martial values—let alone vengeful ferocity—are to Jewish tradition. One of my books contains an entire chapter on Judaic attitudes toward war and violence. This distaste for violence distinguishes rabbinic Judaism from political uses of the Torah and Jewish history, which are so often manipulated to justify the most egregious crimes against humanity.

 Many thanks to Shamai Leibowitz for his comments on the first draft of this article.

https://blogs.timesofisrael.com/holiness-and-violence-exodus-62-1316/

Rabbiner Dr. Pinchos KOHN „Entwurzelung und Einwurzelung“ (J.P.W. 1921, 26)

„Entwurzelung und Einwurzelung“ Jüdische Presse, Wien 1921, 26

Rabbiner Dr. Pinchos KOHN

 (1867-1942)

Tags:

Herzl, Nordau, Ungarn, Jakub Klatzkin

Jeremia, Jecheskel,  Nehemia,

 

“Moral Courage” by Professor Yakov M. RABKIN

 Moral Courage (Shemot, Exodus 1:1–6:1)

 

Yakov M. Rabkin

 

The Book of Exodus begins with several cases of exemplary moral courage. While we might imagine Pharaonic Egypt as a land of totalitarian control, these stories highlight examples of personal courage and freedom.

 The first case concerns two midwives who were ordered by royal decree to kill all newborn males (1:15–19). The Pharaoh and his court had come to fear the immigrants from Canaan, perceiving them as a threat to Egypt. The Hebrew population growth was viewed as a “demographic bomb,” an existential danger that required drastic measures. Killing all newborn males was therefore deemed legitimate by the government.

 The midwives did not confront the royal authorities outright but quietly defied the order and let the boys live. Why? Because, as the Torah states, “they feared God.” In other words, they feared the invisible God more than the very physical and terrifying Pharaoh, who was considered a deity in his country. What happened to them? Nothing. In fact, God rewarded them (1:20).

 Another case involves Pharaoh’s daughter. When she found a baby floating in a basket on the waters of the Nile, she knew he was a Hebrew boy (2:2–7). Yet, she saved him from certain death, cared for him, and brought him—seemingly without fear—into the royal palace. Moreover, she raised this “enemy alien” and did not hide his identity from him. She even gave him the name Moses.

 She must have instilled moral values in her adopted son. When Moses first encountered injustice—an Egyptian striking a Hebrew slave—he killed the Egyptian and buried his body in the sand (2:12–13). However, his moral crusade faltered when he attempted to resolve a dispute between two Hebrews. The more aggressive one retorted, “Who made you chief and ruler over us? Do you mean to kill me as you killed the Egyptian?” Moses, realizing his actions were known, became frightened and fled Egypt (2:14–15).

Even in exile, Moses did not abandon his sense of justice. When he saw a group of male shepherds harassing female shepherds and their flock at a well, he immediately came to their defense (2:15–16). His moral resolve was irrepressible.

 A common thread runs through these episodes: the moral courage to confront injustice, even in the face of severe authority. Yet, Moses tried but could not bring justice to his own people, echoing the experiences of Jews who have fought valiantly for justice in many places but failed in a state that calls itself “Jewish.”

About the Author

Yakov M. Rabkin is Professor Emeritus of History at the Université of Montréal. His publications include over 300 articles and a few books: Science between Superpowers, Interactions between Jewish and Scientific Cultures, A Threat from Within: a Century of Jewish Opposition to Zionism, What is Modern Israel?, Demodernization: A Future in the Past and Judaïsme, islam et modernité. He did consulting work for, inter alia, OECD, NATO, UNESCO and the World Bank.

 https://blogs.timesofisrael.com/moral-courage-shemot-exodus-11-61/