Torah Academy of
Long Island
As part of the interview into high school, I often challenge incoming students with questions that contrast the P’shat of a Chumash story with its Midrashic counterpart. The reaction is always the same- the student looks at me like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. The other day, the student was an eager young lady named Leah. I asked her the following question: If you were able to go back in time to the moment when Paroh’s daughter saw baby Moshe in his basket, what would you see? Would you see Paroh’s daughter requesting her maidservant to fetch the basket as the posuk tells us or would you see her arm grow 25 feet long like Mister Fantastic and rope in the basket as the Midrash says?
I felt at that moment as if I had asked Leah to choose between her two parents at a divorce proceeding. She knew that the Torah was an authority and correct and the Midrash was an authority and correct. Her mind was telling her both versions could not be simultaneously true! Therefore, she was frozen and unable to respond.
Leah was educated in a yeshiva day school. The vast majority of children from the current Yeshiva system believe all Midrashim are part of the literal account of the events that occurred in the Tanach.
Let me fast forward to an Anthropology Class at Queens College. The professor is discussing ancient Egypt. He mentions there is a legend among the Jews about the daughter of Pharaoh concerning her arm stretching out to retrieve baby Moses. Leah raises her hand. She says that it was a miracle and the daughter of Paroh had her arm stretched out to save Moshe. Suddenly, all 53 members of her class turn to her and stare. Her face turns crimson. The Professor asks her, “Do you believe that actually happened?” Leah feels the temperature rising. She knows that her beliefs are under attack, and that she has been publicly put on the spot. She desperately wants to explain the Torah position in a cogent way and yet she finds that despite 15 years of Yeshiva education, she is unable to do so.
What is the Torah position on Midrashim?
The great philosopher, the Rambam, in his commentary to Perek Chelek (10th Ch. of Sanhedrin) states unequivocally that Midrashim are not to be taken literally, but are a source of deep wisdom. The great Mikubal, the Ramchal, in his Introduction to Aggadah (found in most editions of the Ein Yaakov) states the Midrashim are a source of deep and abstract ideas and not to be taken literally. The Ra'avad on his commentary on the Mishne Torah (Hil. Teshuva ch. 3) states that taking the Midrashim literally “Mishabshos es ha’deos” distorts ones principles of belief. Sadly, this is case with our children. They have been taught midrashim as fairy tales. The effects are disastrous.
I explained to Leah that the Torah’s account is what truly occurred in space and time. The Midrash is there to point to the story behind the story. In my opinion, the seemingly miraculous extension of Paroh’s daughter’s arm is directing us to another idea - the great difficulty that she must have faced saving the life of a Jewish baby. Imagine, if you will, a modern day Paroh – perhaps a Hitler or a Stalin, or even, a Saddam Hussein. How likely would it be for the daughter of such a singularly evil dictator to defy her father’s murderous intentions? Her actions required her to go against her upbringing and the dictates of her father. This would of necessity create tremendous conflict for any young woman, but particularly for one in her position of prominence in Egyptian society. The Written Torah’s typically spare prose seems to gloss over this conflict. But the Midrash points to it, and if used properly, makes us stop and examine her motivations. The metaphor of her extended arm is an expression of G-d’s directing the actions of Paroh’s daughter. The rabbis are teaching us that her emotional shift towards feeling protective of this baby is as much of a miracle as if G-d had extended her arm 25 feet.
Leah felt as if a load had been
removed from shoulders. At age 14, she was taught for the first time, the
relationship between the Torah and the Midrashim. It is my belief that all teachers should only teach a Midrash if they
help the students discover its deeper message.
Rabbi Simcha Feuerman, LCSW and Chaya Feuerman, LCSW in their article “Teaching Midrashim to Children” suggest using the notion of seeking a ‘moral of the story” for presenting the idea of a deeper meaning to Midrashim to children. Here is a good example.
“Consider the Midrash which contains a
strange twist to the plague of Frogs.
The verse (Shemos 8:2) states: "And the frog went up and
covered all of Egypt." The text uses the singular form when referring to
the frogs. Of course, the simple
explanation (poshut peshat) is that in Hebrew as in many languages, an entire
group or species is labeled in the singular form. However, the Midrash derives from this choice of words that
actually one frog rose out of the Nile.
However, each and every time an Egyptian tried to hit the frog, instead
of it being squashed and killed, it split into several new frogs. Thus, as the frogs began to jump all over,
and Egyptians encountered and hit them, the plague grew worse and worse. (See Rashi, Op. Cit.)
To our thinking, there is no question that any classroom of
children who were encouraged to ponder what they real lesson behind this
Midrash is, would draw powerful insights into the nature of problems and how
people get further into them. The
inescapable lesson of this Midrash is that when you try to stubbornly and
pig-headedly fight a problem, as the Egyptians did, instead of thinking about
what has gone wrong you will end up panicking and making things far worse. The more the Egyptians fought the frogs, the
worse it got. Who among us in life has
not panicked and made a situation far worse instead of staying calm and using
problem-solving skills?”
As our children enter the 21st century and its scientific mindset it is obligatory for all educators to ensure that our children see the Torah in its most sophisticated light.