This week’s Parsha, Va’era, recounts the beginning of the Ten Plagues which Hashem inflicted upon Egypt. After each of the first five plagues, the Torah records that Pharaoh hardened his heart to prevent showing mercy to the Jews; for the final five plagues, Hashem is said to have hardened Pharaoh’s heart.
Rabbi Immanuel Bernstein writes the following:
“Various classic answers have been provided for this question by the early commentators.
“The Rambam states that, in subjugating and persecuting the Jewish people as he did, Pharaoh had sinned to such a heinous extent that his punishment itself entailed having his free-will removed from him and then being punished for saying no.
“The Ramban, based on Midrash, explains that Pharaoh hardened his own heart during the first five plagues, in response to which Hashem hardened his heart regarding the second five...
“A fascinating and illuminating approach to the entire concept of Hashem hardening Pharaoh’s heart is found in the writings of the Maaseh Hashem. Rather than understanding that Hashem reached into Pharaoh’s decision-making apparatus and turned off the switch, leaving him fundamentally incapable of deciding to let the Jewish people go, the Maaseh Hashem explains this idea in a much more natural way.
“Often, people are in situations where they may say that they ‘have no choice’ but to pursue a certain course of action, when in reality what they mean is that the personality traits that govern them leave them no choice. Someone who has been insulted may feel that he is ‘forced’ to leave the room. Of course he can choose to stay if he wants, but his pride will not allow him to do so. Similarly, someone who subscribes to the notion that he is all-knowing or all-powerful may feel ‘compelled’ to cover up a mistake or a weakness. In truth, he is fully capable of admitting his error, but the way in which he wishes to see – or project - himself effectively bars this option from him.
“The Maaseh Hashem explains that it was in this sense that Hashem hardened Pharaoh’s heart....
“We see the idea of Hashem ‘hardening someone’s heart’ through a presentation of events which is then interpreted by their corrupt perception, leading them to make decisions which are ultimately their undoing.
“In light of this approach... we will appreciate that understanding the idea of the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart in this way will have major implications when we come to consider whether he was ultimately responsible and culpable for his decisions. At every point in the proceedings he was essentially capable of choosing the right path, but his corrupt character traits prevented him from doing so... With the fundamental capacity to say yes intact, Pharaoh was thus held accountable and culpable for each of the times he said no.”
Rabbi Bernstein’s observations, based on Maaseh Hashem, have particular pertinence to the tumultuous events of recent weeks. We have witnessed for several years now an increasing polarization of political views in our society, as people become entrenched further and further apart in their ideas. At its worst, such extreme positions can culminate in irreconcilable hatred and violence. And yet, as Rabbi Bernstein pointedly observes, “A person cannot claim immunity from the consequences of wrongful actions simply because they are [the] product of ego and stubbornness.” Ultimately, we remain accountable for our choices and interactions with others.
In a recent article: (https://mishpacha.com/gone-missing/),
Rabbi Aaron Lopiansky criticizes those who have become so hardened in their political views as to support untenable actions and reject engagement with people with opposing views. Our rich Jewish tradition is one that has strongly encouraged and welcomed tolerant discourse and debate from a wide variety of perspectives. To make such conflict constructive rather than destructive, Rabbi Lopiansky observes, requires civility and menschlichkeit. We are charged with the accountability today to unharden our hearts, and to open ourselves to difficult and challenging exchange. In doing so, we may discover how to bring Hashem’s ways of chesed into our families, communities, and society.

​"The parasha we are reading today is Shemot. It is about a baby boy placed in the Nile river to be safe, because Pharaoh wanted all the Jewish baby boys to be dead. Pharaoh was afraid that the Hebrews would become too many and too strong that they could take over the kingdom. At the end of the river, Pharaoh's daughter sees the baby boy and raises him as her own, with a little help from his birth mother Yocheved and his sister Miriam. When Moshe the baby boy grows up, he sees a man getting whipped almost to death by Pharaoh’s servants. Moshe kills Pharaoh’s servant and runs far away to a place called Midyan. There, Moshe rescues Jethro’s daughters and Jethro repays Moshe by hiring him to become a shepherd to his sheep, and Moses marries one of his Jethro’s daughters, Tzipporah. One day when Moshe is rallying up the sheep, he sees a burning bush with God speaking out of it. God tells Moshe to go back to Egypt and say to Pharaoh, “Let my people go!” Pharaoh refuses and made it harder for the Jews.
"When Moshe's parents put him in a basket they didn’t know whether he would cross the Nile river safely. Moshe's parents didn’t have a choice whether or not to raise him or put him in the Nile because he was otherwise going to be killed. Miriam followed the baby beside the Nile to see what would happen.
"When Pharaoh's daughter saw the baby, she knew that Moshe was a Hebrew. The problem was that Pharaoh was her father and he didn’t like Hebrew babies. If Pharaoh saw the baby, what would he do? Pharaoh’s daughter, however, was kind and brave. She decided to keep Moshe not caring what Pharaoh might do. Then Miriam cleverly came up to Pharaoh’s daughter and asked if she would like a Hebrew nurse maid to take care of the baby. Pharaoh’s daughter agreed and gave Yocheved some money for taking care of Moshe. That way, she made it possible not only for the Hebrew baby boy to survive, but also grow up with his Mom and family.
"The name that we call Pharaoh’s daughter is Batya. We know her name is Batya from the tanach ( תנ”ך ) from Chapter One of divrei hiyamem (also known as Chronicles) in the verse where it says, 'These were the sons of Bityah daughter of Pharaoh, who Mered married.' Mered was another name for Caleb, who was a Jewish spy and a hero and a leader of the Jews. The midrash says that when the Jews left Egypt, Batya left her father’s castle and came along with them, and lived her life as a Jewish woman with high respect. Thanks to Batya for saving Moshe, the Jewish people are still here today.
"The name Batya means 'daughter of God'. The Midrash tells us she got this name because G-d said to Batya, 'Moses was not your son, yet you called him your son. You too, are not my daughter, but I shall call you My daughter.'
"Batya taught us that taking risks sometimes can be helpful and save people, places or things that others love and respect. Batya was brave; she took a huge step to save a baby who was a Hebrew that her own father hated. But she knew that this baby had a whole life ahead of him. Thanks to Batya -- I am here today celebrating my bat mitzvah.

What legacy do we wish to leave our loved ones?
In this week’s Parsha, Vayechi, we find Ya’akov Avinu -- our forefather Jacob/Israel -- upon his deathbed, at the end of his eventful and tumultuous life. He chooses to do something remarkable: he provides each of his children, and two of his grandchildren (Ephraim and Menashe), personal verses to describe and guide them.
There are many ways we transmit love to our children and descendants, by providing them security, nurturing, guidance, attention, and care. Ya’akov gave his children, B’nei Yisrael, something further; he granted them honesty. Each child was to become the eventual forefather of one of the tribes of Israel, and he provided each one clear insight into their unique nature.
The poetic messages were not by any means sugar-coated. He likens Dan to a serpent, Issachar to a donkey, Benjamin to a wolf. He reminds Reuben of his usurping his father’s bed; he curses the wrath of Simeon and Levi. Yet Jacob’s messages do not suggest meanness or cruelty. The rabbinic commentator Abarbanel states that Jacob needed to assess the strengths and weaknesses of each son, and which one would assume leadership of the people of Israel. In the presence of the whole family, Jacob clearly communicates to Judah, “Your brothers will praise you… and prostrate themselves to you… The sceptre shall not depart from Judah… and unto him shall be the obedience of nations” (Bereshit 49:8-10). Despite being just the fourth-eldest of his siblings (after Reuben, Simeon and Levi), Judah had repeatedly shown leadership in key moments. He demonstrated certain qualities which superseded those of his brothers, who nonetheless became family and tribal leaders in their own rights.
Contemporary author and lecturer Alfie Kohn challenges many of the common paradigms of education and parenting today. He describes how the repeated strategy of praise as a parenting or teaching technique – e.g., through the repeated intonation of “Good job!” – can surprisingly have a deleterious effect on children. According to Kohn, the choice to engage in positive/negative reinforcement is a legacy of the psychological school of behaviourism, which likens human behaviour to that of animals. The use of calculated praise can convey to children the sense that love for them is conditional upon good/proper behaviour, rather than unconditionally provided. He proposes that, instead of using external rewards and punishments to reinforce or deter behaviour, adults can better capitalize on the intrinsic motivation of children (to discover the world and engage constructively with others) by describing things accurately and honestly to them. This enables learners to understand the outcomes and effects of their actions, and to develop a better gauge of what decisions to make in future.
Ya’akov Avinu understood that empty praise would not suffice to guide his children into their future. He gave them not the feedback that they wanted, but the feedback that they needed to become greater people and leaders. We can see that his words indeed had long-term effects. The tribe of Levi, whose forefather acted murderously and impulsively in avenging his sister Dinah, instead channeled their force into becoming the priestly leaders and guides of the Israelites. And the tribe of Judah, the projected leader, indeed became the anchor of the Jewish people; so much so that virtually all surviving Jews are descended from this one tribe.
As we enter into the secular calendar year of 2021, in these difficult times, I hope that we can follow the example of Israel, the forefather and namesake of our nation. Let us be prepared to engage in honest and occasionally difficult dialogue, in order to cultivate greater wisdom among ourselves and one another.
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