Rabbi Mendy Herson's Blog

Moses was a big deal.

He was an Israelite who confronted Pharaoh. More importantly, he was able to show Pharaoh that he had such clear connections with G-d that he could forecast coming plagues and bring them to a close. That had to be impressive to the Egyptian populace. And it was.

Yet, we see that Pharaoh’s cabinet – his servants at the palace – initially were skeptical. They weren’t sure if this was sleight of hand or some type of cutting-edge magic. But eventually they saw that Moses’s predictions were so sharp, and so obviously attuned to an otherworldly Master of the Universe, that they had to concede.

Even more, they had a close angle to observe Moses, the human being. They heard him speak, they saw his body language, they felt his passion and conviction. They saw a saintly man in action. That was deeply impactful, even beyond the supernatural plagues.

In this week’s Torah reading, as Moses prepares to warn Pharaoh about the tenth and final plague, the Torah testifies that “Moses, the man, was held in high esteem by Pharaoh’s courtiers and by his people.”

Moses, the man.

The Egyptians developed a deep respect for Moses the individual, aside from their submission to Moses the miracle-worker. They knew they were dealing with an outstanding human being, with deep intellect, profound empathy, and impeccable character.  

It strikes a chord in me.

This Shabbos, the 10th day of Shevat, we honor the 74th yahrtzeit of the Previous Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn, which we also mark as the day that the Rebbe took over the leadership of Chabad-Lubavitch.

There are many articles and books about the Rebbe’s otherworldly vision and guidance, his incredible scholarship and his revolutionary leadership. The Rebbe was a giant, respected by leaders throughout the world.

But there is something distinctly awe-inspiring about the Rebbe, the man. There is something deeply moving about his deep love for, and focused guidance to, ‘regular’ people.

Every Shabbos, in Shul, we give out a double-sided page called ‘Here’s My Story’ (click here), which gives us a snapshot of the Rebbe’s care for a specific individual. I find those testimonies breathtaking.

G-d gifted me with more than 25 years of watching and listening to the Rebbe, of being in his [relatively] close orbit. Before the Rebbe passed away, I would have thought I could imagine the Rebbe’s sphere of influence.

Not even close.

We love you, Rebbe.

Early one morning, I got a call from a congregant. “Mendy,” he asked in a halting tone, “How would I know if I’m dead?”

Blindsided by the question, I asked,“Where are you?”

“In Chicago. O’ Hare Airport.”

“When did you go to Chicago?”

“This morning. I just arrived.”

“Are you okay? What happened?”

“When I left home early this morning, it was pouring. As I drove down the highway, I could see a few cars around me. All of a sudden, I hit a patch of water and lost control. My car did two full 360 degree turns and finally stopped. I can’t believe I survived, and that none of the cars hit me.”

After speaking this through for a while, my friend calmed down. I then asked: “Do you remember what you were thinking as your car spun so frighteningly?”

“I was thinking of my wife and kids. Hoping they’d be okay without me.”

We met the next day, to recap my friend’s experience, and I suggested a daily exercise for him: Spend a few moments in the morning, reliving the trauma of that near-death experience, and soaking in the clarity it brought, his prioritization of family. I wanted this painful experience to be transformative for days and years ahead.

Human inspiration tends to be flash-in-the-pan. Just google ‘New Year’s resolutions’ to see how long they last.

When G-d was hammering Pharaoh and the Egyptians with painful plagues, Pharaoh would come to a breaking point and agree to free his Israelite slaves.

Then, the Torah relates, “when Pharaoh saw there was relief, he went back to being obstinate, paying no heed to Moses…”

Pain and trauma teach us lessons, but they only become enduringly transformative if we pro-actively keep them alive in our hearts and minds.

For most of 2023, Israel went through a particularly acute period of internal strife about judicial reform. The vicious pogroms of October 7, brought Israeli – and global Jewish – society together. Irrespective of where we stand on the observance spectrum, we’re recognizing that we need each other, and we need to unite for Israel.

This unity can last. October 7's pain be channeled into growth for Jews as a people. 

It’s up to us.