A Quick Torah Thought

Very often we see that a historical event in the Torah takes on a different significance at a later point in time. For example, the act of bringing the Korban Pesach, the Paschal lamb was, at the time, an act of immeasurable faith and belief in the supremacy of the true God; the lamb was set aside four days before it was sacrificed, for all of Egypt to see. Nowadays, though, the import has changed dramatically, and we try to commemorate some elements of the initial historical act, by, for example, nowadays, not eating the Korban Pesach in the absence of the Beit Hamikdash; were there to be one, it likewise would have to be set aside in advance for the exact number of people who were to eat it, and similarly, it had to be eaten in one house, just like the night of the killing of the firstborns, when no Jew was allowed to leave his home.  The same could be said of the details we glean from the historical act of the conversion of the Jewish people, as described in the Gemorah, Yevamot...

One of the difficulties of conceptualizing how the Torah relates to a certain topic or issue, is that the case studies we use are often scant, or few and far between. One of the topics that seems most enigmatic, on the face of it, is the dynamics between husband and wife. What is the role of each one? Often, it is the Medrash that enriches our understanding in such matters, but that notwithstanding, frequently, Medrashim are in conflict with each other, and a simple reading of the text can seem hard to achieve. With that said, I'd like to look at the dynamic between Moshe Rabbeinu and Tziporah, because it is one of the oddest there seems to be in the Torah. Yitro's daughters are saved by Moshe Rabbeinu at the well-side after the local shepherds in Midian were wont to prey on them. They go home, making no mention of Moshe, until their father asks them why they had hastened so, at which point they divulge that an Egyptian man had saved them; Yitro says, "Why didn't y...

Every school-aged child in Jewish school grew up on the Medrash that the Jewish people, camped on the edge of the Red Sea, surrounded by Pharaoh's chariots and fiercest warriors, when Nachshon, determinedly and gloriously walked into the waters which reached his very nostrils. Then, Nachshon whose belief was so great and knew in his heart of hearts that God would not abandon his people, saw the waters miraculously split when he had done everything in his human capacities to demonstrate his undying belief in the God who had performed the miracles previously on land, and would do the very same in the turbulent waters.  This narrative is very dramatic, especially given God's modus operandi. Before each set of three plagues, God clearly delineates his goal, that the people know I am God, and then, God on the land, and then, God, who prevails over all the land, the deathblow being the firstborns struck at the toll of midnight. The Egyptians themselves declare thereafter that God can...

One of the dilemmas I've faced at a new school I'm teaching at this year resonates with the message of this past week's parsha, namely, the extent to which values breed new behavior patterns, or vice versa. The students I teach are undoubtedly considered special-ed, but, in addition, some have severe behavioral issues and cognitive difficulties, and all, struggle with regulation. As I am new to this type of work, I have had to learn how to reconcile some preconceived notions with the approach taken by the particular school. For example, more often than not, students fail to bring writing implements, let alone notebooks, or their workbooks. These are students who, in another teacher's words, "would be out on the streets," were they not in my classroom. As for how to teach students who come wholly unprepared, early on, I was in favor of coming with a stash of pencils or pens, but was strictly prohibited from doing so; they have to learn basic talmida'ut ...