By: Chaya Sora Jungreis-Gertzulin
“Vayehi bayomim haheim, And it came to pass, in those days, vayigdal Moshe, and Moshe grew up, he went out to his brothers, vayar b’sivlosam, and he saw (in) their burdens.”
(Shemos 2:11)
The previous passage in the Chumash already tells us, “Vayigdal hayeled, that Moshe grew up. Why the repetition in the very next passage?
Rashi explains that the first vayigdal refers to Moshe’s physical growth, whereas the second “vayigdal – and he grew up” is meant to convey that Moshe had grown into a position of responsibility, ready to assume a leadership role. Rashi further expounds on the words vayar b’sivlosam, and he saw into their burden, “Nosan einav v’libo”, Moshe saw with both his eyes and his heart, l’hiyos maytzar aleihem, and grieved with them.
The Torah uses the term b’sivlosam, into their suffering. We learn from this that Moshe not only saw their suffering, but was “in it” with them. He felt the pain and anguish of his fellow Jews.
True greatness is attained when one feels the pain of his fellow. Moshe left the luxury and comfort of Pharaoh’s palace to be with his people. The Midrash tells us that he helped carry their loads, shlep their bricks. He wanted to feel their pain, to experience their suffering. Moshe cried with them and for them.
My parents were the Rabbi and Rebbetzin of Congregation Ohr Torah in North Woodmere. There was a family in the community who lost a young daughter in a tragic car accident. Shortly after the shiva, my mother happened to meet the young girl’s father, Mark Brander.
“Rebbetzin, the Rabbi saved our lives. My wife, Shirley and I, would have never made it if not for your husband. Please convey our appreciation to the Rabbi.”
My mother wondered what words of comfort my father could have conceivably offered. That evening, my mother mentioned how she met up with Mark, and how he was so grateful. “What words did you share with the Brander family?” my mother asked.
“Nothing”, my father responded. “What could one possibly say at such a difficult time?”
To my mother, it was all a mystery.
Not long after, the Branders called and asked to meet with my parents. They arrived a little early, and my father was still in shul. They once again shared how the Rabbi got them through a most painful and difficult time. My mother seized the opening to inquire as to what the Rabbi had said.
“Nothing, nothing at all.” Mark shared how the Rabbi embraced him, put his arms on his shoulder, and cried with him. He related how the Rabbi came every night. “Every night of the shiva, the Rabbi cried with me, and I will never forget that for as long as I live.”
Shirley explained. “The Rabbi didn’t even have to say I’m sorry for your loss. His tears spoke for him.”
To see with one’s heart. It was not what my father said, but what he did.
Moshe was chosen to be the leader of the Jewish people, because he knew what it meant to be nosei b’ol im chaveiro, to carry your friend’s burden.
Moshe’s kind heart even extended to the sheep he tended in Midyan. He worked as a shepherd for his father-in-law, Yisro. One day, a little lamb wandered away from the flock. Moshe went searching for the lamb, and found him drinking by a brook. He had compassion for the little lamb, who must have been thirsty and weary, and carried him back to the other sheep.
Moshe saw with his heart.
We must all learn from and follow in the ways of our greatest teacher, Moshe Rabbeinu. To be nosei b’ol im chaveiro. To feel the pain, the distress, the suffering of family and friends, co-workers and neighbors. To be sensitive to each other’s needs. To be b’sivlosam, to see into their challenges with our eyes and our hearts.
“Sh’al na’alecha, take off your shoes.”
(Shemos 3:5)
When Moshe stood before the burning bush, HaShem instructed him to remove his shoes. To feel the twigs, the stones, the hard earth beneath his feet. HaShem was giving Moshe an important message – Moshe, your mission is to be a leader. One can only be a leader if he feels the pain and suffering of his people.
The bush burnt, yet its branches were not consumed. It was a lowly thorn bush, signifying that HaShem is constantly with us, even when we are feeling low and downhearted, even at the most trying times.
Despite the difficulties we have endured, be it as a nation or as individuals, our branches are not consumed. We have gone through so much, experienced so many fires in life, but through HaShem’s immense goodness, we are here. The branches remain. A sign to us all – never to give up, never to lose hope.
Shabbat Shalom!
Chaya Sora can be reached at [email protected]
This article was written L’zecher Nishmas / In Memory Of HaRav Meshulem ben HaRav Osher Anshil HaLevi, zt”l and Rebbetzin Esther bas HaRav Avraham HaLevi, zt”l
