Rabbi Kideckel's Weekly Message

Shemot 2026

This Shabbat, we begin the Book of Shemot, Exodus. In these opening chapters, we encounter three distinct parties: the midwives, Pharaoh’s daughter, and Moses, who each act against the prevailing norms of their society because they believe it is the right thing to do.

The midwives (identified by some traditions as Shifra and Puah, and by others as righteous Egyptian women) were commanded by Pharaoh to cast the newborn Hebrew males into the river’s water. Instead, they feared God and allowed the children to live.

Similarly, Pharaoh’s daughter saw a Hebrew child floating in a basket and, despite her father’s genocidal decree, took pity on him and brought him into the heart of the palace. That child was Moses.

Finally, there is Moses himself. Though raised in the lap of luxury, he did not remain indifferent. He went out to see the burdens of his brothers. Upon witnessing an Egyptian taskmaster brutally beating a Hebrew slave, an act of injustice stemming from a cruel system, Moses took matters into his own hands to protect the victim. Interestingly, Moses was challenged not only by the Egyptians but also by his own people. When he tried to intervene in a quarrel between two Hebrews, they questioned his authority, reminding us that the path of the defender or upstander is often lonely and met with resistance from all sides.

While we may not face the life-and-death stakes of ancient Egypt, we encounter injustices in our world every day. How we respond to even the smallest of these defines our humanity. As the Book of Job instructs: “and let not injustice dwell in your tents” (Job 11:14).

Rabbi Yamin Levy notes that Judaism is far more than a mood or a personal feeling. He suggests that we often ask the wrong question. Instead of asking, "What can I expect from God?" or "What will I get out of a religious life?" we should ask: "What does life and God expect of me?"

As the midwives, Pharaoh’s daughter, and Moses demonstrated, the goal of Torah is not simply to follow the mitzvot, but for the individual to hear the cry of another human being and act upon it.

Rabbi Levy suggests that the prophets of Israel did not spend their lives composing abstract metaphysical treatises. They were not interested in the sublime if it was disconnected from the street. Instead, they directed their fire at the corruption of judges and the exploitation of the poor in the marketplace.

Why? Because a spiritual life that ignores the widow, the orphan, and the stranger is no spiritual life at all.

The Book of Exodus begins not with a miracle from heaven, but with individual humans choosing to see the pain of another.

The Torah captures this transition in the life of Moses with one brief transformative word:

"And it came to pass in those days, when Moses was grown up, that he went out unto his kinsfolk, and looked on their burdens..." (Exodus 2:11).

Rashi notes that this "looking" was not a passive glance; Moses "set his heart and eyes to be pained by them." He refused the comfort of the palace to share in the discomfort of the people. This is the human concern Rabbi Levy speaks of.

Pharaoh’s daughter acts in a similar manner. Rabbi Avital Hochstein states in her commentary this week: “In stark contrast to Pharaoh stands his daughter. Through her choices, actions, and relationships, she presents a radically different path, rooted not in fear, but in compassion,courage, and connection.”

Unlike Pharaoh, whose vision was shaped by fear, her perception emerged from a place of connection. She saw, she had compassion, and she acted. She demonstrates that when we allow ourselves to be moved and vulnerable, a shared future becomes imaginable. The mindset of mere survival is replaced by a sense of responsibility for oneself and for others.

The Torah is not only mindful of its many chapters of laws related to religious observance and our own personal needs, but that of responsibility for oneself and for others. It is not only about God’s revelation to Moses and vicariously to us, but how we adapt to that moment and see what the Burning Bush meant not only to Moses in our reading for this Shabbat, but what it means to us as well.

I look forward to your joining us this Friday evening on Zoom and Shabbat morning at the home of Richie Simonson and Phyllis Holtzman for our Home Hosted Shabbat.

Am Yisrael Chai!!!

Shabbat shalom.

Rabbi K