2023/5783

Sefer Shemot begins with Bnei Yisrael’s transition from a family to a nation. One generation is replaced by the next, and the nation changes character almost overnight: “VaYamot Yosef VeChol Echav VeChol HaDor HaHu. UVenei Yisrael Paru VaYishretzu VaYirbu VaYa’atzmu BeMe’od Me’od VaTimalei Ha’Aretz Otam,” “And Joseph died, and all his brothers, and all that generation. And the Israelites were fertile and prolific; they multiplied and increased very greatly, so that the land was filled with them” (Shemot 1:6-7). The Torah describes how this nation was enslaved and persecuted through two stories: the first, Paroh’s plan to subjugate Bnei Yisrael, the next, an enigmatic story about Paroh and the Jewish midwives.

Let’s examine this story. Paroh calls the two Jewish midwives, who we’re told are named Shifrah and Pu’ah, and instructs them to kill any Jewish male they help deliver. These midwives have great Yirat Elokim, fear of God, and of course refuse to follow Paroh’s command. They can’t just blatantly disregard the king’s order, though, so when he calls them back and asks them why they didn’t listen, they concoct an airtight alibi: the Jewish mothers are experts at giving birth, they say, and they always get there just a bit too late to kill the babies. “Oh well,” Paroh says, and moves on to another plan. Meanwhile, Hashem acts kindly towards the midwives, and the nation’s population explodes.

Of course, this story serves as a step in Bnei Yisrael’s subjugation, and explains why Paroh decreed to throw all Jewish boys in the Nile (the midwives wouldn’t do it for him), but I’m still a bit troubled by it. First, why do we care what the midwives’ names were? They were, obviously, great Tzadikot who sacrificed for their nation, but they never appear again in the Torah. Why does it matter who, exactly, they were? Second, why does the Torah focus so much on their interactions with Paroh, going into so much detail on his claim and their response? Finally, why does this story exist in the first place? What purpose does it serve other than to explain why Paroh decided to throw all the boys in the Nile? Did we really need a backstory for that?

To explain this story, we have to examine its wider context - Bnei Yisrael becoming a nation and their subjugation to Egypt. The Seforno (ibid. s.v. Paru VaYishretzu) explains the transition between the generation of Bnei Yaakov and the generations that followed as one of degradation, in which the nation lost its moral bearings: “After all seventy [of Yaakov’s sons] died, they turned towards the ways of vermin, who run to Be’er Shachat.” Startlingly, Bnei Yisrael became morally and spiritually corrupt immediately after the death of the Dor Yoredei Mitzrayim, to the extent that, according to the Seforno, the Torah describes them as vermin. The natural consequence of this, according to the Seforno, was “VaYakom Melech Chadash Al Mitzrayim Asher Lo Yada Et Yosef,” “A new king arose over Egypt who did not know Joseph” (ibid. 8). Of course he knew who Yosef was, the Seforno comments, but he couldn’t connect Yosef, the virtuous prince, with this nation of vermin. 

Shibud Mitzrayim thus took place on two fronts. A nation lost its way, forgetting the God of its forebears. It also lost its humanity, at least in the eyes of the Egyptians: Bnei Yisrael was not a nation of people, but merely a dangerous, foreign presence living in Egypt.

Bnei Yisrael’s initial subjugation takes these contours exactly. Paroh told his nation, “Hineih Am Bnei Yisrael Rav Ve’Atzum Mimenu,” “Behold, the Nation of Bnei Yisrael is too great and might for us” (ibid. 9). They are not Bnei Yisrael, the individual children of Israel, but Am Bnei Yisrael, the menacing nation threatening to supplant Egypt. They’re a nameless mass, who the Torah writes about in the singular: “VaYasimu Alav Sarei Misim,” “They placed taskmaster over it” (ibid. 11). They’re a spiritually desiccated people: God comes up not once in this story. And the Egyptians revile them: “VaYakutzu MiPenei Bnei Yisrael,” “And they were disgusted because of Bnei Yisrael” (ibid. 12). Through all this, Bnei Yisrael just accept their fate, doing nothing as the Egyptains work to embitter their lives. They are a nameless entity, passive and sclerotic, horrifying to the Egyptians and abandoned by God.

But let’s continue to the story of the Meyaledot. What do we know about them? We have no idea who they are, where they came from, or what they’re going to do after this, but we know their names. With that, we can answer our first question. The Meyaledot rebel against Bnei Yisrael’s designation as Sheratzim, weeds Egypt can’t seem to get rid of: they are people, and so the Torah must tell us their names. They also rebel against Bnei Yisrael’s spiritual decline: “VaTirenah HaMeyaledot Et Ha’Elokim, VeLo Asu Ka’Asher Dibeir Aleihem Melech Mitzrayim,” “The midwives, fearing God, did not do as the king of Egypt had told them” (ibid. 17). Their fear of God, absent in their entire generation is what gives them the courage to disobey orders coming from Paroh himself.

Why, however, does the Torah provide so much detail about the midwives’ interactions with Paroh? A second glance at the midwives’ alibi explains why. Their excuse - they always happen to miss the birth - doesn’t hold water. Why does Paroh accept it? The answer may lie in the next Pasuk: “VaYeitev Elokim LaMeyaledot,” “And God was good to the midwives” (ibid. 20). What was the good that Hashem performed for the midwives? Maybe it was the very fact that Paroh accepted their alibi. In consequence of that, of course, they could continue serving as midwives, and “the people multiplied and increased greatly” (ibid.). The Meyaledot’s Yirat Elokim was reciprocated by God, and he provided them with special Siyata DiShemaya.

With all that in mind, we can answer our final question. What is the point of this narrative in the wider story of Shibud Mitzrayim? The Meyaledot, in contrast to the mass of Bnei Yisrael, show how Geulah will be achieved. Passivity, indifference towards God, and groupthink accomplish nothing. Yirat Elokim and personal initiative, on the other hand, will bring the redemption.

This change in mindset, from group to individual, and from passivity to active protest, plays out in the rest of the Parashah. Paroh’s next decree, in response to the Meyaledot’s actions, is to throw all the newborn Jewish male’s into the Nile. Yocheved, (who, interestingly, is not named in the story) of course, cannot accept this and takes matters into her own hands, sending her son into the Nile and trusting to God’s protection to save him. Moshe, too, cannot sit by while God sends somebody else to save Bnei Yisrael. When he asks Hashem, “Shelach Na BeYad Tishlach,” “Please make someone else your agent” (ibid. 4:13), Hashem responds in anger. What is so upsetting about Moshe’s request? Isn’t it just another aspect of his humility? It may be so, but the Ge’ulah will not come if leaders don’t accept the mission God has trusted them with. Only Yirat Elokim, and the ability to step up when needed, will bring Ge’ulah. “UVeMekom She’Ein Anashim, Hishtadeil LiHiyot Ish” (Pirkei Avot 2:5).