GOOD MORNING! As 2021 draws to a close we should, once again, reflect on all of the opportunities and challenges that this year delivered. We also have to focus on that which we need to be appreciative of and address the things on which we still need to work.

In many ways, 2021 was a vast improvement over the traumatic year of 2020. Still, 2021 delivered many challenges of its own as well as a continuation of some of the difficulties and suffering initiated in 2020.

This week I was struck by the realization that, in general, suffering is truly a very personal experience. To be sure, some pain, such as the loss of a loved one or chronic physical pain, can be universally understood as something that causes misery.

However, there are various types of personal distress that are difficult for others to understand and may even border on hilarity to an outsider. In a rather startling post on a Miami Beach community WhatsApp chat, a woman seemed to be on the brink of total emotional collapse because her family’s nanny was returning to her native country (it’s not like the nanny was absconding with the woman’s children – although in this particular case that might have provided some relief).

Similarly, I remember watching (with great amusement) as my two-year-old granddaughter had an absolute meltdown because her mother had the audacity to give her a piece of bread with the crust still on. It reminded me of the woman who tweeted, “Please pray for my son’s recovery. I just hugged him in front of his friends at the bus stop.” Clearly, there is an element to personal suffering that is what we make of it.

Perhaps the paradigm of personal suffering is found in the Bible’s book of Iyov or “Job.” As the Bible informs us, Job is a wholly righteous man who is suddenly faced with the most horrific personal tragedies: the unanticipated and total loss of his immense wealth, the sudden death of his many children (they all died when a house collapsed on them), the seeming abandonment by his wife, and terrible physical maladies.

The book of Job contains forty-two chapters, of which only the first two really deal with his travails. The vast majority of the book is comprised of philosophical discussions; some between the Almighty and Satan, but mostly between Job and his friends who come to console and counsel him.

There are many things we learn from the book of Job, including some of the Jewish customs of mourning such as the symbolic tearing of one’s clothes when a first degree relative passes and the custom that those coming to console the mourners are silent until the mourner speaks to them first.

The book of Job is often mistakenly characterized (or perhaps oversimplified) as the Bible’s answer to the age-old question, “Why do bad things happen to good people?” (The answer being, “We don’t know.”)

Aside from this interpretation not being particularly helpful, it misses the main point of the story, which is how a person is supposed to deal with personal tragedies.

However, the Talmud has a completely different take on why Job suffered the way he did, and it directly relates to this week’s Torah portion.

“Behold! The nation of Israel is more numerous and stronger than we. Come, let us outsmart it […]” (Exodus 1:8-9).

Pharaoh, faced with a burgeoning Jewish people, cements his place in the history of infamy by becoming the first rabid antisemite. The Talmud (Sotah 11a) tells us that Pharaoh had three advisers: Jethro (Yitro in Hebrew), Job, and Bilaam. When Pharaoh was deciding how to approach his “Jewish problem” he sought the opinion of each of his three advisers.

Bilaam, the grandson of Lavan (according to some opinions he actually was Lavan), was an evil man and relished the prospect of eradicating the Jewish people. It was he who advised Pharaoh to enslave the Jews, destroy their identity, and later to kill the male babies.

Job was a righteous man who was opposed to any plan to destroy the Jewish nation. Yet, rather than display his true feelings on the issue, he refrained from offering any opinion. Perhaps he knew that his objections would be met with resistance. Perhaps he rationalized that he could do more to help the plight of the Jewish people at a later date by remaining in his position as advisor. Either way, he decided not to oppose or accept Bilaam’s proposal, but remained silent.

Jethro, on the other hand, objected to Pharaoh’s characterization of the Jews as a “problem” and rejected the idea of exterminating the Jewish people. Jethro’s protests angered Pharaoh and he had to flee Egypt in order to save his life.

The Talmud goes on to say that each of the three advisers was rewarded or punished according to his deed. Bilaam, who encouraged the execution of thousands of innocent Jews, was later killed by the very people he sought to exterminate (see Numbers 31:8).

Job, who remained silent in the face of Jewish oppression, was afflicted with a life of tremendous emotional pain (he lost all his possessions, children, and wife) and physical suffering (his body became covered in boils to the point where he wouldn’t leave his house).

Jethro, who fled because of his opposition to Pharaoh, sacrificing his position of leadership and life of comfort and wealth in Egypt, eventually became the father-in-law of Moshe and his descendants became prominent judicial leaders of the Children of Israel.

A very basic tenet of Judaism is that God repays a person measure for measure. Therefore, we can clearly understand the reward and punishment of Jethro and Bilaam respectively.

However, why was Job’s punishment so severe? After all, Job did not support the decree of persecution against the Jewish people. Job’s only sin was remaining silent. Why then did he have to suffer such a harsh life, one where tragedy was continually followed by calamity and affliction?

The Talmud is teaching us that Job’s silence was a far greater transgression because his reaction to Pharaoh was the unwitting cause to the Jewish nation’s suffering in Egypt. How so?

In every generation there are madmen who have no qualms about murdering entire civilizations to achieve their warped goals. What keeps them in check? Mainstream society saying this is not okay, that the ends do not justify the means. Civil and moral people saying that they will not tolerate such behavior is what causes these sociopaths to retreat to the shadows.

Similarly, Adolf Hitler – yemach shemo (may his name be blotted out) – came to absolute power when his many years of vitriolic propaganda was fully embraced by German society. Regarding the Jews, he began by characterizing them as evil, then subhuman, then vermin that needed to be exterminated. At which point, something that would have been unimaginable just a decade or two prior, suddenly became an imperative mandate.

The Holocaust didn’t occur in a vacuum – German citizens were well aware of what was happening. In fact, the real reason it transpired was because the German people accepted it as a tolerable solution to a madman’s “Jewish problem.” Eli Wiesel, noted author, winner of the 1986 Nobel Peace Prize, and a Holocaust survivor once said, “Ask not, ‘Where was God during the Holocaust?’ but rather, ‘Where was man?’”

This is also what happened in Egypt. Pharaoh realized that if the righteous Job wouldn’t take a stand against the enslavement and destruction of the Jewish nation, then it was an acceptable plan. The responsibility for the creation of evil does not simply lie with the madman who conceives it; the society that accepts it as viable approach is infinitely more accountable.

Job’s silence was the precursor to every society that is silent and accepting in the face of unspeakable evil. They become the unwitting cause of true malevolence. That was why he was punished so severely. Ultimately, God has a plan and whether or not we are privy to His reasons or can rationalize the suffering is really not the point.

The takeaway from all suffering is that we must act. For others, we must be there to console and counsel. For ourselves, we must try to understand the lesson God is teaching us. We may never reach a complete understanding, but the obligation is to try. Just as in meditation or riding a stationary bicycle: it’s not the destination that’s important – it’s the process that’s good for you.

Shemot, Exodus 1:1 – 6:1

This week's portion tells a story often repeated throughout history: The Jews become prominent and numerous. There arises a new king in Egypt “who did not know Joseph” (meaning he chose not to know Joseph or recognize any debt of gratitude). He proclaims slavery for the Jewish people “lest they may increase so much, that if there is war, they will join our enemies and fight against us, driving (us) from the land.” (Antisemitism can thrive on any excuse; it need not be logical or real – check out our online seminar “Why the Jews?” here. It’s spectacular!)

Moses is born and immediately hidden because of the decree to kill all male Jewish babies. Moses is saved by Pharaoh’s daughter, grows up in the royal household, and goes out to see the plight of his fellow Jews. He kills an Egyptian who was beating a Jew, escapes to Midian when the deed becomes known, becomes a shepherd, and then is commanded by God at the Burning Bush to “bring My people out of Egypt.” Moses returns to Egypt and confronts Pharaoh who refuses to give permission for the Israelites to leave. God says, “Now you will begin to see what I will do to Pharaoh!”

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“When you are going through hell, keep going.”
— Attributed to Winston Churchill