ובכל אלהי מצרים אעשה שפטים אני השם

כוח האמונה והביטחון של ר’ שמואל מונקעס

מוצאי שבת ו׳ אדר ה׳תשע״ג
איך מגיב בן אדם רגיל המאבד את כל רכושו? כיצד הגיב ר’ שמואל מונקעס כשראה שלא נשאר מרכושו דבר?… כשהתקרבו לבית לא מצאו אלא אפר ואודים מתגוללים באויר, ראו שר’ שמואל מונקעס מביט סביבו ומתחיל לברך: “ברוך אתה ה'”… כולם חשבו שהוא מתכונן לסיים ברכתו במילים: “דיין האמת”, אולם להפתעת כולם הוא סיים במילים: …”שלא עשני גוי”.
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בתקופה שגר ר’ שמואל מונקעס בעיירה במשינקוביץ היו מגיעים לביתו אברכים ללמוד חסידות ודרכי חסידות.

לילה אחד התלקחה שריפה גדולה בעיר שלא פסחה גם על ביתו של שמואל מונקעס, ובהיות האש גדולה וחזקה ליחכה האש את כל ביתו ואת כל התכולה שבתוכו ולא נשאר מאומה מביתו וכל אשר בו.

למרבה המזל ר’ שמואל מונקעס ובני ביתו לא היו בבית וכך ניצלו.

למחרת לאחר שנודע דבר השריפה לר’ שמואל מונקעס ולרעיו האברכים ליוו אותו רעיו האברכים לביתו מתוך אהדה מהולה בצער וגם מתוך סקרנות רבה לראות כיצד יגיב ר’ שמואל מונקעס, שהיה חסיד אמיתי ובעל ביטחון גדול בה’, על המאורע הנורא שארע לו.

כשהתקרבו לבית לא מצאו אלא אפר ואודים מתגוללים באויר, ראו שר’ שמואל מונקעס מביט סביבו ומתחיל לברך: “ברוך אתה ה'” … כולם חשבו שהוא מתכונן לסיים ברכתו במילים: “דיין האמת”, אולם להפתעת כולם הוא סיים במילים: …“שלא עשני גוי”.

האברכים שהביטו בו בפליאה שאלו אותו, מה פשר ברכה זו? ענה להם: בכל בית של גוי יש “אליל” וכשנשרף הבית נשרף גם ה”אליל”, אבל אני שעובד את ה’ ואליו אני מתפלל, יודע שה’ חי וקיים לעולם. ה’ תמיד אתי ולעולם לא יעזבני. כשם שעזר לי עד עכשיו, יעזור לי בעתיד ויתן לי כל צורכי.

האברכים עמדו נדהמים לנוכח גדלותו של ר’ שמואל מונקעס, כשראו את כח אמונתו ובטחונו בה’ שנתן לו את היכולת לעמוד בניסיון קשה כל כך מבלי להתפעל ממנו כלל.

מאתר חב”ד, כאן.

In Search of the Exodus Pharoah

The Pharoah and the King

by Rabbi Reuven Chaim Klein

I still remember my fifth-grade rebbe, Rabbi A. Y. Berman, asking the one-hundred-dollar question: Why does the Torah sometimes refer to the Egyptian monarch as Melech Mitzrayim (“the King of Egypt”) and sometimes as Pharaoh (“the Pharaoh”)? The term Melech Mitzrayim appears in the Bible close to fifty times, while the word Pharaoh appears a whopping 274 times! In six cases, both names are used together: Pharaoh Melech Mitzrayim (Ex. 6:11; 6:13; 6:29; 14:8, I Kgs. 3:1, and Ezek. 29:2). Why does the Bible sometimes use one term, sometimes the other — and sometimes both?

As you might know, Pharaoh is not a personal name, but rather it is a title held by the King of Egypt. Rashi (to Ps. 34:1 and Ezra 6:14) writes that every king of Egypt is called Pharaoh (in contrast, Radak to Gen. 26:9 writes that most kings of Egypt were named/called Pharaoh). When the Pharaoh’s butler spoke up to recommend Yosef as a dream-interpreter, the butler began his speech by saying, “I shall mention my sin today: Pharaoh became angry at his servant (i.e. me) and he put me in detention…” (Gen. 41:10) In some versions of Rashi’s commentary, here he again comments that every king of Egypt is called Pharaoh. Rabbi Ovadia of Bartenura (1440-1500) points out that Rashi proffered that explanation because one might otherwise think that Pharaoh was the king’s name and the butler acted disrespectfully by referring to the king by his personal name. To preclude that understanding, Rashi explained that all Egyptian kings are called Pharaoh, so Pharaoh is a title and not a name. Ibn Ezra (there) makes a similar point.

Nonetheless, the Bible does give us the personal names of three different Egyptian kings. Firstly, the Egyptian king during the reigns of King Solomon and his son Rehoboam was named Shishak (interestingly, the Bible never describes him as Pharaoh, but only as Melech Mitzrayim). Shishak is commonly identified by archeologists as Pharaoh Shoshenq I. Secondly, the Egyptian king during the reign of King Josiah was Pharaoh Necho (“lame” or “handicap” Pharaoh). According to the Midrash, he was called such because he was partially paralyzed. When Necho killed Josiah in battle, he captured King Solomon’s Throne, and when he dared sit on it one of the lions on the throne struck him, rendering him partially paralyzed. The third king mentioned by name is in the generation after Josiah. When Jeremiah foretells the downfall of Egypt, he mentions its leader by name: Pharaoh Chafra, king of Egypt (Jer. 44:30).

The Apocryphal Midrash Sefer HaYashar gives us the personal names of some more kings of Egypt. According that source, Severus, son of Anam (see Gen. 10:13 which lists the Anamites as descendants of Ham’s son Mitzrayim, the progenitor of the Egyptians) who was the king of Egypt when a man from Babylon named Rakayon impressed the king and his nation with his great wisdom. In the end, Severus renamed Rakayon “Pharaoh” and appointed him the day-to-day ruler of Egypt, while Severus himself remained the ultimate king of Egypt (who would appear in public only once a year). The Egyptians paid special homage to Rakayon by decreeing that all future kings of Egypt should be named Pharaoh.

According to Sefer HaYashar, the Pharaoh in the generation after Yosef’s death was Pharaoh Melol. He ruled for ninety-four years. Instead of calling him Melol, Melech Mitzrayim, the Jews called him Maror Melech Mitzrayim because he made the lives of the Jews bitter (maror) by enslaving them. Interestingly, Egyptologists have discovered that in ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics, the same glyph was used for the r-sound and the l-sound. Even more interestingly, some scholars identify Pharaoh Melol with Pharaoh Pepi II, whose alternate name was Merire.

Sefer HaYashar relates that Melol’s successor was his son Pharaoh Adikam. He was also known as Adikam Achuz because achuz means “short” in Egyptian and Adikam was only one amah (cubit) tall (see also Mo’ed Katan 18a). Adikam was a short, ugly fellow whose beard reached to his ankles. It was during Adikam’s reign that the Jews’ Exodus from Egypt happened.

According to Sefer HaYashar, Pharaoh and Melech Mitzrayim were originally two different titles held by different people, but eventually, it seems, those two offices were merged. This, however, does not explain why the Bible sometimes uses one title, sometimes the other, and sometimes both.

The Zohar (Shemot 17a; 19b) explains that in most of the opening story of the Book of Exodus, the Bible mentions Melech Mitzrayim. This refers to the angelic minister who represents the Egyptian nation in the Heavens. On the other hand, when the Torah refers to Pharaoh or Pharaoh Melech Mitzrayim, this refers to the human king of the Egyptians. Following this approach, the Zohar explains that when the Torah reports “…and Melech Mitzrayim died…” (Exodus 2:23), this does not refer to the death of the earthly King of Egypt, but to the removal of the Egyptians’ Heavenly minister from its prominence. Only once G-d demoted the Egyptians’ Heavenly representative did He begin to listen to the Jews’ prayers for redemption.

Rabbeinu Bachaya (to Gen. 41:1) writes that throughout the story of Yosef’s interpreting Pharaoh’s dreams, the king is only referred to as Pharaoh and not Melech Mitzrayim because that story was the beginning of Pharaoh’s personal downfall, which culminates in the Jews’ exodus from Egypt and the Egyptians drowning in the Red Sea. The only exception to this is that when mentioning Yosef’s standing in front of Pharaoh, he is called Pharaoh Melech Mitzrayim (Gen. 41:46) in order to stress that he was able to remain king only because he listened to Yosef’s sagely advice. The drawback of Rabbeinu Bachaya’s explanation is that he does not offer an all-encompassing theory as to when the Bible uses Pharaoh and when it uses Melech Mitzrayim and when it uses both.

Partially basing himself on Rabbeinu Bachaya, Rav Chaim Kanievsky offers a comprehensive discussion about the three different ways in which the Bible refers to the Pharaoh. He explains that when the Pharaoh was acting on behalf of national interests, then he is referred to as Melech Mitzrayim. In contrast, when Pharaoh’s actions are motivated by his own, selfish interests (be that his self-aggrandizement or simply his pathological stubbornness), then he is called Pharaoh. When both of these factors played a role, then the king is known as Pharaoh Melech Mitzrayim.

What does the word Pharaoh mean? Rabbi Yitzchak Abarbanel (1437-1508) and Rabbi Avraham Menachem Rappaport (1520-1596) explain that “Pharaoh” is a term the Bible uses to illustrate the Egyptian king’s depravity, and is either a contraction of the Hebrew phrase po’el ra (“doer of evil”) or peh ra (“bad mouth”). Rabbi Eliezer ben Eliyahu Ashkenazi (1515-1585) claims in his work Ma’ase Hashem that the Egyptians spoke Latin/Italian. He uses that notion to explain the meaning of the name Pharaoh by arguing that “Pharaoh” means “master” in Italian. (After consulting with experts, we remain unable to confirm this.) Nonetheless, it is virtually a historical fact that the Egyptians spoke Egyptian, not Latin. Academia tends to explain that Pharaoh means “the great house”.

From What’s in a Word, here.

Redating the Exodus From Egypt

When Was the Exodus?

June 29, 2006

The author contends that the most important event in Jewish history has been occupying the wrong slot in the accepted archaeological timeline.

“And Moses said unto the people: Do not fear! Stand and see the deliverance of Hashem which he shall do for you this day. For as you have seen Egypt this, day, never will you see it again.” (Exodus 14:13)

The Exodus from Egypt was not only the seminal event in the history of the Jewish People, but was an unprecedented and unequaled catastrophe for Egypt. In the course of Pharaoh’s stubborn refusal to let us leave and the resultant plagues sent by Hashem, Egypt was devastated. Hail, disease and infestations obliterated Egypt’s produce and livestock, while the plague of the first born stripped the land of its elite, leaving inexperienced second sons to cope with the economic disaster. The drowning of the Egyptian armed forces in the Red Sea left Egypt open and vulnerable to foreign invasions.

From the days of Flavius Josephus (c.70 CE) until the present, historians have tried to find some trace of this event in the ancient records of Egypt. They have had little luck.

According to Biblical chronology, the Exodus took place in the 890th year before the destruction of the Temple by the Babylonians in 421 BCE (generally accepted date: 587 BCE).1This was 1310 BCE (1476 BCE). In this year, the greatest warlord Egypt ever knew, Thutmose III, deposed his aunt Hatshepsut and embarked on a series of conquests, extending the Egyptian sphere of influence and tribute over Israel and Syria and crossing the Euphrates into Mesopotamia itself. While it is interesting that this date actually saw the death of an Egyptian ruler – and there have been those who tried to identify Queen Hatshepsut as the Pharaoh of the Exodus – the power and prosperity of Egypt at this time is hard to square with the biblical account of the Exodus.

Some historians have been attracted by the name of the store-city Raamses built by the Israelites before the Exodus. They have drawn connections to the best-known Pharaoh of that name, Ramses II, or Ramses the Great, and set the Exodus around his time, roughly 1134 BCE (1300 BCE).2 In order to do this, they had to reduce the time between the Exodus and the destruction of the Temple by 180 years, which they did by reinterpreting the 480 years between the Exodus and the building of the Temple (1 Kings 6: 1) as twelve generations of forty years. By “correcting” the Bible and setting a generation equal to twenty five years, these imaginary twelve generations become 300 years.

Aside from the fact that such “adjustments” of the Biblical text imply that the Bible cannot be trusted, Ramses 11 was a conqueror second only to Thutmose III. And as in the case of Thutmose III, the Egyptian records make it clear that nothing even remotely resembling the Exodus happened anywhere near his time of history.

We appear to be at a standstill. The only option is to conclude that there is something seriously wrong with the generally accepted dates for Egyptian history.

In 1952, Immanuel Velikovsky published Ages in Chaos, the first of a series of books in which he proposed a radical redating of Egyptian history in order to bring the histories of Egypt and Israel into synchronization. Velikovsky’s work sparked a wave of new research in ancient history. And while the bulk of Velikovsky’s conclusions have not been borne out by this research, his main thesis has: the apparent conflict between ancient records and the Bible is due to a misdating of those ancient records, and that when these records are dated correctly, all such “conflicts” disappear.

Both Thutmose III and Ramses II date to a period called the Late Bronze Age, which ended with the onset of the Iron Age. Since the Iron Age has been thought to be the time when Israel first arrived in Canaan, the Late Bronze Age has been called “The Canaanite Period,” and historians have limited their search for the Exodus to this time. When we break free of this artificial restraint, the picture changes drastically.

According to the Midrash3, the Pharaoh of the Exodus was named Adikam and he had a short reign of four years. The Pharaoh who preceded him, whose death prompted Moses’ return to Egypt (Exodus 2:23, 4:19), was named Malul. Malul, we are told, reigned from the age of six to the age of 100. Such a long reign – 94 years! – sounds fantastic, and many people would hesitate to take this Midrash literally. As it happens, though, Egyptian records mention a Pharaoh who reigned for 94 years, and not only 94 years, but from the age of six to the age of 100! This Pharaoh was known in inscriptions as Pepi (or Phiops) II.4 The information regarding his reign is known both from the Egyptian historian-priest Manetho, writing in the 3rd century BCE, and from an ancient Egyptian papyrus called the Turin Royal Canon, which was only discovered in the last century.

Egyptologists, unaware of the midrash, have wrestled with the historicity of Pepi II’s long reign. One historian wrote:5

Pepi II … appears to have had the longest reign in Egyptian history and perhaps in all history. The Turin Royal Canon credits him with upwards of ninety years. One version of the Epitome of Manetho indicates that he “began to rule at the age of six and continued to a hundred.” Although modern scholars have questioned this, it remains to be disproved.

While the existence of two kings who reigned a) 94 years, b) in Egypt, and c) from the age of six, is hard enough to swallow a coincidence, that is not all. Like Malul, Pepi II was the second to last king of his dynasty. Like Malul, his successor had a short reign of three or four years, after which Egypt fell apart. Pepi II’s dynasty was called the 6th Dynasty, and was the last dynasty of the Old Kingdom. Following his successor’s death, Egypt collapsed, both economically and under foreign invasion. Egypt, which had been so powerful and wealthy only decades before, suddenly could not defend itself against tribes of invading Bedouins. No one knows what happened. Some historians have suggested that the long reign of Pepi II resulted in stagnation, and that when he died, it was like pulling the support out from under a rickety building. But there is no evidence to support such a theory.

A papyrus dating from the end of the Old Kingdom was found in Egypt in the early 19th century.6 It is an account of an Egypt suddenly bereft of leadership. Violence is rampant. Foreign invaders are everywhere, with no one to hold them in check. The natural order of things has come to a crashing standstill. Slaves have disappeared and taken all the wealth of Egypt with them. Based on its literary style, it seems to be an eye-witness account of Egypt not long after the dissolution of the Old Kingdom. Its author, an Egyptian named Ipuwer, writes in the document below:

Plague is throughout the land. Blood is everywhere. (2:5)

The river is blood (2:10)

That is our water! That is our happiness! What shall we do in respect thereof? All is ruin! (3:10-13)

Trees are destroyed. (4:14)

No fruit or herbs are found . . . (6:1)

Forsooth, grain has perished on every side. (6:3)

The land is not light [dark]. (9:11)

Nile overflows [bringing the harvest], yet no one ploughs for him. (2:3)

No craftsmen work, the enemies of the land have spoilt its crafts. (9:6)

Gold and lapus lazuli, silver and malachite, camelian and bronze . . . are fastened on the neck of female slaves. (3:2)

Velikovsky recognized this as an eyewitness account of the ten plagues. His evaluation has been criticized on the basis that Ipuwer describes an overall breakdown of Egyptian society, and that the parallels to the plagues and the plundering of Egypt the night before the Exodus are not the central point of his composition. But Ipuwer was an Egyptian. His concern was the general state in which Egypt found itself, and what could be done to correct it. Had Ipuwer been a member of Pharaoh’s court, and witnessed the full drama of Moses and Aaron confronting his king, he might have written in such a way as to make the dating of the Exodus clear to even the most skeptical. As it is, we have an account of how the events of the Exodus affected Egypt as a whole.

However, since modern men are not supposed to believe in such things, the Ipuwer Papyrus has been interpreted figuratively by most historians. The destruction of crops and livestock means an economic depression. The river being blood indicates a breakdown of law and order and a proliferation of violent crime. The lack of light stands for the lack of enlightened leadership. Of course, that’s not what it says, but it is more palatable than the alternative, which is that the phenomena described by Ipuwer were literally true.

When the Bible tells us that Egypt would never be the same after the Exodus, it was no exaggeration. With invasions from all directions, virtually all subsequent kings of Egypt were of Ethiopian, Libyan or Asiatic descent. When Chazal tell us that King Solomon was able to marry Pharaoh’s daughter despite the ban on marrying Egyptian converts until they have been Jewish for three generations because she was not of the original Egyptian nation, there is no reason to be surprised.

IN THE WAKE OF THE EXODUS

It was not only Egypt which felt the birth pangs of the Jewish People. The end of the Old Kingdom in Egypt preceded only slightly the end of the Early Bronze Age in the Land of Israel. The end of this period, dated by archaeologists to c.2200 BCE (in order to conform to the Egyptian chronology), has long puzzled archaeologists. The people living in the Land of Israel during the Early Bronze were the first urban dwellers there. They were, by all available evidence, primitive, illiterate and brutal. They built large but crude fortress cities and were constantly at war. At the end of the Early Bronze Age, they were obliterated.

Who destroyed Early Bronze Age Canaan? Before the vast amount of information we have today had been more than hinted at, some early archaeologists suggested that they were Amorites. The time, they thought, was more or less right for Abraham. So why not postulate a great disaster in Mesopotamia, which resulted in people migrating from there to Canaan? Abraham would have been thus one in a great crowd of immigrants (scholars of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries often felt compelled to debunk the idea of Divine commands).

Today, the picture is different. The invaders of the Early Bronze/Middle Bronze Interchange seem to have appeared out of nowhere in the Sinai and the Negev. Initially, they moved up into the Transjordan, and then crossed over north of the Dead Sea, conquering Canaan and wiping out the inhabitants. Of course, since we are dealing with cultural remnants and not written records, we don’t know that the previous inhabitants were all killed. Some of them may have remained, but if so, they adopted enough of the newcomers’ culture to “disappear” from the archaeological record.

Two archaeologists have already gone on record identifying the invaders as the Israelites. In an article published in Biblical Archeology Review7, Israeli archaeologist Rudolph Cohen demonstrated that the two invasions match in every detail. Faced with the problem that the two are separated in time by some eight centuries, Cohen backed down a bit:

I do not necessarily mean to equate the people with the Israelites, although an ethnic identification should not be automatically ruled out. But I am suggesting that at the very least the traditions incorporated into the Exodus account may have a very ancient inspiration reaching back to the MBI period.

The Italian archaeologist, Immanuel Anati, has come to similar conclusions.8 He added other pieces of evidence, such as the fact that Ai, Arad and other cities destroyed by Israel in the invasion of Canaan were destroyed at the end of the Early Bronze Age, but remained uninhabited until the Iron Age. Since the Iron Age is when Israel supposedly invaded Canaan, we have been in the embarrassing position of having the Bible describe the destructions of these cities at the very time that they were being resettled for the first time in almost a millennium. When the conquest is redated to the end of the Early Bronze, history (the Bible) and physical evidence (archaeology) are in harmony. Anati goes further than Cohen in that he claims the invaders really were the Israelites. How does he get around the eight hundred year gap? By inventing a “missing book of the Bible” between Joshua and Judges that originally covered this period.

Both Cohen and Anati are in the unenviable position of having discovered truths which conflict with the accepted wisdom. Their “tricks” for avoiding the problem are lame, but the only alternative would be to suggest a radical redating of the archaeology of the Land of Israel. And there is good reason to do this. It is not only the period of the Exodus and Conquest which suddenly match the evidence of ancient records and archaeology when the dates of the archaeological periods are brought down:

1. The Middle Bronze Age invaders, after some centuries of rural settlement, expanded almost overnight into an empire, stretching from the Nile to the Euphrates. This empire has been termed the “Hyksos Empire,” after a group of nomads that invaded Egypt, despite the fact that there is no historical evidence for such an identification. History knows of one such empire. Archaeology knows of one such empire. The same adjustment which restores the Exodus and Conquest to history does the same to the United Kingdom of David and Solomon.

2. The Empire fell, bringing the Middle Bronze Age to an end. Archaeologists and Egyptologists are currently involved in a great debate over whether it was civil war or Egyptian invasions which destroyed the “Hyksos” empire. The biblical accounts of the revolt of the ten northern tribes and the invasion of Shishak king of Egypt make the debate irrelevant.

3. The period following the end of the Empire was one of much unrest, but saw tremendous literary achievements. Since this period, the Late Bronze Age, was the last period before the Iron Age, and since the Iron Age was believed to have been the Israelite Period, the Late Bronze Age was called the Canaanite Period. Strangely, these Canaanites spoke and wrote in beautiful Biblical Hebrew. Semitic Canaanites? Did the Bible get it wrong again? But then, coming after the time of David and Solomon, they weren’t really Canaanites. The speakers and writers of Biblical Hebrew were, as might have been guessed . . . Biblical Hebrews.

4. Finally we get to the Iron Age. This is when Israel supposedly arrived in Canaan. But it has been obvious to archaeologists for over a century that the archaeology of the Iron Age bears little resemblance to the Biblical account of the conquest of Canaan. There were invasions, but they were from the north, from Syria and Mesopotamia, and they came in several waves, unlike the lightning conquest under Joshua. The people who settled the land after the invasions also came from the north, though there is much evidence to suggest that they weren’t the invaders, and merely settled an empty land after it had been destroyed by others. The south remained in the hands of the Bronze Age inhabitants, albeit on a lower material level.

The conclusions drawn from this evidence have been devastating. The people in the south, who constituted the kingdom of Judah, whence came the Jews, has been determined to be of Canaanite descent! If not biologically, then culturally. And the people in the north, the other ten tribes of Israel, have been determined to have been “no relation” to the tribes of the south. The idea of twelve tribes descended from the sons of Jacob has been removed from the history books and recatalogued under “Mythology, Jewish.”

What is most strange is that multiple waves of invasion followed by northern tribes settling in the north of Israel is not an event which has gone unmentioned in the Bible. The invaders were the Assyrians. The settlers were the northern tribes who eventually became the Samaritans, And if the people in the south were descended from the Late Bronze Age inhabitants of the land, why, that merely means that the kingdom of Judah was a continuation of the kingdom of Judah. The only historical claims which are contradicted by the archaeological record are those of the Samaritans, who claim to have been the descendants of the ten tribes of Israel.

A simple redating of the archaeological periods in the Land of Israel brings the entire scope of biblical history into synchronization with the ancient historical record. Only time will tell whether more archaeologists will follow Cohen and Anati in their slowly dawning recognition of the historicity of the Bible.


Brad Aaronson lives in Ma’aleh Adumim, Israel, and is currently collaborating with Dr. Chaim eifetz on a book dealing with the Persian period of Jewish (and world) history. He is one of the founders of the Jerusalem Institute of Ancient History (JIAH).


1. Contrary to the Jewish historical tradition, the generally accepted date is 166 years earlier, or 587 BCE (see “Fixing the History Books – Dr. Chaim Heifetz’s Revision of Persian History,” in the Spring 199.1 issue of Jewish Action). This difference applies to all Mesopotamian and Egyptian history prior to the Persian period. The dates for Egyptian history given in the history books are therefore off by this amount. For our purposes, we will use the corrected date followed by the generally accepted date in parenthesis.

2. Some people have been excited about the generally accepted date for Ramses II coming so close to the traditional date for the Exodus. This is a mistake, as Egyptian and Mesopotamian histories are linked. If Ramses II lived c.1300 BCE, then the destruction of the Temple was in 587 BCE, and the Exodus was in 1476 BCE.

3. Sefer HaYashar and The Prayer of Asenath (an ancient pseudepigraphical work) contain this information, though Sefer HaYashar only gives the 94 year reign length without Malul’s age.

4. Egyptian kings had a vast titulary. They generally had at least five official throne names, not to mention their personal name or names, and whatever nick-names their subjects gave them.

5. William Kelly Simpson in The Ancient Near East: A History, Harcourt Brace Jovanovich 1971.

6. A.H.Gardiner, Admonitions of an Egyptian from a hieratic papyrus in Leiden (1909). Historians are almost unanimous in dating this papyrus to the very beginning of the Middle Kingdom. The events it describes, consequently, deal with the end of the Old Kingdom.

7. Rudolph Cohen, “The Mysterious MBI People – Does the Exodus Tradition in the Bible Preserve the Memory of Their Entry into Canaan?” in Biblical Archaeology Review IX:4 (1983), pp. 1 6ff.

8. Immanuel Anati, The Mountain of God, Rizzolli International Publications, New York 1986.

From OU, here.

Don’t Sing About the 4 Classical Elements Without Including the CREATOR Himself!

The Matzav Shmooze: Is ‘Adamah V’Shamayim’ an Avodah Zarah Song?

Dear Editor@Matzav.com,

I’m sure you’ve heard of the song Adamah V’shamayim, an often-requested song. Some people know and understand the lyrics, most don’t. But 99.9% of our community doesn’t know the song’s origin. So here goes, working backward:

Before Motti Weiss (aka Matt Dubb) recorded the song, it was recorded and popularized by a Buddhist-style Israeli group by the name of Segol. Little detail is given by Segol that the song is originally in English.

The original song is “Strong Wind, Deep Water” (the original lyrics and the source can be found here and below). It’s a song by an earth-worshiping pagan cult, translated into Hebrew, almost word for word, for the Segol group. A Google search will show many results confirming that the song is of pagan (i.e., avodah zarah) origins.

I appreciate that this is not intuitive information, the lyrics are subtle. But the fact is that a song by earth-worshippers describing earth worship has crept into our community, and we’re now dancing at our simchos to an avodah zarah song (literally). If rabbonim knew the above about this song, many might say that one is not allowed to say the bracha “Shehasimcha Bim’ono” at a chasunah where the song is played.

Ever since I researched this song, I’ve been asked by multiple ba’alei simcha to play it. After giving a short and concise background of the song, the response is absolutely unanimous – both from chosson and kallah couples and from bar mitzvah parents: “OMG I didn’t know, yeah let’s not play that song.”

Since spreading this info on a social media group for Jewish musicians, there have been a few responses: Some respond with unfortunate leitzanus, and others respond with indifference. Yet many musicians have thanked me for the info and said they would not be playing the song. One artist reached out to me privately to let me know that he’s not including the song on his upcoming cover album, as he originally intended. Another artist to whom I reached out regarding this song also decided to not include it in his recently-released cover album.

I would strongly urge you to consider whether or not you should play the song in the future. We wouldn’t sing about gilui arayos of shfichus domim at our heiligeh simchas…singing a song of avodah zarah should be no exception. Boruch Hashem, we have many great and leibedik songs to choose from without an avodah zarah chant.

Yehuda

P.S. The reason I researched the song, to begin with, is two-fold: 1) The tune (with the repetitive A and B section) has the sound and structure of a classic far-eastern or pre-American chant, and 2) the lyrics convey a spiritual feeling of experiencing nature as an end to itself, rather than experiencing G-d through nature. It sounded extremely foreign and strange to me, not something written by a Jew, let alone a frum Jew.

Strong wind, Deep water; Tall trees, Warm fire
I can feel it in my body; I can feel it in my soul
Heya heya heya heya heya heya ho
Heya heya, heya heya, heya heya heya ho

Strong wind, Deep water; Pure Earth, Warm fire
Soft breeze, Vast Ocean; Bright Sun, Grand Mountain
Sweet kiss, Long River; Earth Live forever

From Matzav.com, here.

Renewed: Shlomo Gordon of ZEHUT Defends Alex Jones from Avi Shafran

Rabbi Avi Shafran is incorrect for supporting the censorship of Alex Jones, both from a legal and Jewish standpoint. Although I most certainly don’t agree with everything that Alex Jones says, no matter which way you look at it, by censoring Alex Jones, Big Tech is breaking the law.

Here are a few examples:

1) If they are censoring the right, that means they are supporting the left. And if they are supporting the left, that means that every tweet or post from a politician on the left is being *actively* politically endorsed by these companies. So, that means you have to figure this into campaign finance. Considering that most people get their information from social media, the amount of money that this would be considered is astronomical, and Twitter is certainly breaking campaign finance laws.

2) If I slander you on the phone, the phone company is not responsible. If I slander you in the newspaper, the publisher *is* responsible, as he made an active choice to publish my slander. And if I slander you on Facebook, Facebook is not responsible, because legally Facebook is a communications company, like the phone company. But this means that Facebook is not a publisher – so they are not allowed to arbitrate who gets to publish and who doesn’t, and are breaking the law. Or, alternatively, if Facebook wants, they can consider themselves a publisher. Let’s watch them get sued every single day for slander. One billion posts a day, how many of those are slander? One thousand? Facebook will go bankrupt in no time.

3) Social media have plenty of government connections, and the “neutral” organizations that get to arbitrate who gets the freedom of speech and who doesn’t are… government, basically. Either governments themselves or partially government-funded bodies… and the collusion of course is not necessarily with “the government” of President Trump, but it is with factions within the US government and other governments, i.e. – the government(s) is (are) censoring political opinions!

4) Anti-trust laws. Time to bust the trusts!

The Sages taught not to read חרות על הלוחות charut – “the writing of God *engraved* upon the tablets”, but rather cherut – “the writing of God *is Liberty* upon the tablets”. The teachings of the Torah are the basis that John Locke used in classical liberalism, therefore we should fight for Liberty in every way. Regarding freedom of speech, specifically, we find that the best disinfectant is sunshine, and that as more and more people are feeling that they are being censored (and they are), they move onto different platforms where they form echo chambers and truly dangerous ideologies are able to fester. I personally have gone down the rabbit hole, and I can tell you that the far left and far right are uniting and growing and the glue that holds them together is the “Zionist conspiracy”. In this conspiracy, the fact that AIPAC is part of the “neutral” group censoring people does NOT help us, and of course, don’t get me started on the ADL. The fact of the matter is that by supporting censorship (which *is* what you are doing), Jews are giving true, authentic, virulent anti-antisemitism ammunition that, God forbid, will be used against Jews in the future.

Regarding Alex Jones himself,

The “Zionist conspiracy” crowd virtuously unanimously considers him to be a “Zionist” and therefore a disinformation agent, perhaps controlled by the Mossad (you can’t make this stuff up:joy:). Despite many people in his surrounding being extremely anti-Israel, and against “Israel-first politicians”, he described his position as such:

“I’m pro Israel, because then, when Israel does stuff that I don’t like, I get to criticize it, see how that works?”

“The left wants to overthrow Israel and wants to put in an Arab failed state which will threaten the entire world.”

And other similar positions, which are no longer to be found since Youtube deleted tens of thousands of his videos, but are preserved by conspiracy theorists calling him a “Zionist shill”. Of course, it was the Zionists who censored him… the irony and the pilpul to explain this have no limits.

So even if he was anti-Israel, I would fight for his free speech, but considering that his biggest opponents attack him for not cursing Israel, like Bilaam ben Beor, we should certainly support him.

Shlomo Gordon (26) is the Chairman of Jews for Freedom of Speech and is running for the Knesset on behalf of the libertarian and Jewish nationalist Zehut party.

Note: The above article was originally posted on FrumJew.com and is reprinted here in full with permission.