A Jew Always Believes

"And it was, when Pharaoh sent away the people . . . " (Shemos 13:17) Chazal tell us (in both the Mechilta and the medrash Tanchuma here), that "the expression shiluach, sending away, always implies accompaniment." Here this means that Pharaoh went along to accompany bnei Yisroel, for dalet amos when they left Egypt.

The word beshalach, when he sent, is being understood by the midroshim as implying that Pharaoh sent the people away freely and voluntarily, to the point of accompanying them upon their departure, whereas he actually suffered ten plagues before he was compelled to release them. This is strange! This is the same Pharaoh who forced bnei Yisroel to be his slaves and who said, "I do not know Hashem"!

It is related that the Kotzker Rebbe zt'l, was once told that a certain person was an heretic. "He's an apikores?!" retorted the Rebbe, "Pharaoh was an apikores!" Moshe Rabbenu told Pharaoh that Hashem said, "At midnight I am going to go out inside Egypt and every firstborn will die." Pharaoh had already seen that every single plague that Moshe had warned him about had come to pass exactly as he had been told it would and exactly when he had been told it would. Yet he ignored this warning about makas bechoros and went to sleep, as we see from the posuk, "And it was at midnight . . . and Pharaoh arose in the night," which Rashi explains as meaning that he rose from his bed. In other words, he had gone to sleep as usual and only when "there was a great outcry in Egypt,"did he get up. Until that fateful moment, he did not believe. Pharaoh was therefore a true apikores but it is different with a Jewish soul. If a Jew's finger hurts him, he cries out immediately to Hakodosh Boruch Hu, "Heal me! Help me!"

I heard another story which illustrates this from HaRav Zalman Sorotzkin zt'l, the Lutsker Rov. Reb Zalman was once walking in Yerushalayim together with one of the Zionist leaders. This man was boasting about how he was an apikores, R'l, and he uttered some words of heresy R'l, and then, while he was speaking, he mentioned that he had terrible pains in his stomach. They were near the Bikur Cholim hospital on Rechov Strauss. "I said to him," recalled the Lutsker Rov, "`Let's go inside and a doctor can examine you.' He did so and the doctor said that he had a stomach ulcer R'l, and that he needed surgery immediately. The man asked if he could first go to his home and tell his family but the doctor said that there was no time because his situation was dangerous and they took him into the operating theater straight away."

The man asked the Lutsker Rov to go into the beis haknesses in the Zichron Moshe neighborhood, (which is very near the hospital), and to say some Tehillim for him.

"You are an apikores who lacks faith?" the Lutsker Rov asked him. "All you are missing is a stomachache! The proof is that you just asked for Tehillim to be said for you!"

What then led the man to speak as he did?

FICTION -- Part 2

Yonasan is an orphan who is having trouble finding a permanent home after living for four years -- which is about as long as he can remember anything -- with one family. He is forced to leave after they have a premature baby who needs special care. The authorities (Kinneret) can only find him temporary places to stay, but he blames himself for having to move all the time, and eventually becomes bitter and suspicious. He has joined a new family where his skills at living out of his suitcase find a surprising application. So far, all Yonasan has met is the father of the house, who has welcomed him pleasantly.

His wife hastened to wipe her hands on her apron and smiled in a friendly manner. Yonasan marched forward, half bent. Nonchalantly, he slung his valise behind his back. They won't touch it, this time.

But the man didn't extend his hand. He only smiled, and his smile, Yonasan noticed, lit up his face, nearly reaching his eyes.

"I'm Yehoshua," he said simply. "And you -- what should we call you?"

Do you hear? He didn't wait for Kinneret, and he didn't accept some ready-made name. He was genuinely interested in hearing his name.

"Yonasan," he replied dryly. They won't win me over so easily, not even with smiles.

Kinneret tried to say something, but a jolly group of kids charged from one of the inner rooms.

"Kids," Yehoshua said in a reproving tone, but his smile continued to dance in his eyes, a bit impishly.

"They're so late," the older one claimed with a bit of self- justification, "that we couldn't wait any longer."

He then approached Yonasan energetically, his hand outstretched. "I'm Yehuda. We're the same age, and we'll be in the same class, in the same cheder. Wanna see?"

Then without waiting for an answer, he dashed forward, and began to drag the valise.

"Hey," Yonasan marched ahead, his eyes ablaze. "It's mine. Leave it alone right now. Do you understand?"