Dear Reader,

Ten-year-old Sara stormed into her home. “Mom!” She was on the verge of tears, “I can’t stand Deborah! She’s the MEANEST person!”

Deborah, the class bully, had once again made life miserable for Sara.

“Don’t let silly little Deborah upset you. Cheer up!” Sara’s mother reassured her.

Noticing Sara’s still disconsolate expression, she continued, “Come, let’s make you a special treat. That should make you feel much better . . . !”

This week’s Torah portion, Bo (“come”), describes the last plagues visited upon the Egyptians, culminating with the exodus of the Jewish people. In the opening verse, G‑d instructs Moses, “Come to Pharaoh . . . ,” to warn Pharaoh of the upcoming plagues and to demand their release.

Since the name of each Torah section conveys its primary message, why is Bo not titled “Freedom,” or something that describes the extraordinary exodus?

In fact, the name, “Come [to Pharaoh],” reminds us of the opposite—of the Jewish people’s slavery. Moses needed to petition Pharaoh and appeal to him to free his people.

Commentaries also question the usage of the term, “come to Pharaoh” instead of the more appropriate form, “go to Pharaoh.”

But perhaps, the title holds the psychological key for finding solutions to our challenges.

The Zohar explains that by instructing Moses to “come to Pharaoh,” G‑d was inviting Moses to confront the essence of the Egyptian ruler. G‑d tells Moses to enter into Pharaoh, in the sense of entering deep within the mind and character of Egypt’s arch-idol.

To liberate the children of Israel from the shackles of their servitude, it was not sufficient for Moses, their leader, to merely “go” to Pharaoh and have a peripheral vision of this leader’s strength. Moses needed to fully confront Pharaoh within his “home base.” He needed to enter into Pharaoh’s mindset, into the bowels of his psyche, into the innards of his consciousness in order to comprehend the root of his power and his tenacious, tyrannical hold on the Jewish people.

This was the first step towards liberation.

Moses was the “shepherd” and ultimate “parent” of our people, tending to our every need. His conduct teaches us how to help our children (and ourselves) through their respective enslavements, constrictions or challenges.

The Torah teaches us that in order to free someone from the shackles of their problems, fears and insecurities, we must “come to Pharaoh.”

Don’t dismiss your child’s issues as insignificant. Don’t reassure her that this “little” incident will pass without validating what she is experiencing. Don’t distract her from her problem without dealing with it.

Experience her pain, frustration and insecurity. Explore her feelings and validate her challenges. Picture her monsters and feel her fears; understand what is suffocating her growth. Help her face her obstacles, rather than avoid them.

Only after you have fully entered into the domain of what is oppressing the individual can you hope to succeed in providing the solutions for her liberation.

Chana Weisberg

Editor, TJW

Dear Reader,

As each of my pregnancies progressed, my husband and I discussed possible names for our soon-to-be newborn baby. We pored over lists, girls’ and boys’ names, as well as names of deceased relatives.

Despite our many hours of deliberation, we didn’t name any of our children after the names we had initially chosen. As each child was finally born, we looked deeply into the newborn’s eyes and just knew what the name should be.

Parents have a form of divine prophecy when they name their children. A name is intrinsically connected to the essence of the individual’s soul and is the channel through which his or her spiritual life force flows. That’s why to arouse someone from a deep sleep or even a faint, call them by name. To get a person’s full attention or affection, address him by his name.

A generation ago, the Nazis dehumanized our people by discarding our names and treating us as numbers. By robbing us of our names, they tried to rob us of our humanity.

Names are a big part of this week’s Torah portion, which is called Shemot, “Names,” and is also the title for the entire book of Exodus.

The portion starts with G‑d calling names: And these are the names of the children of Israel who came into Egypt . . . (Exodus 1:1–2)

G‑d counted the tribes again now, to express His love for them, by calling each one by his individual name. (Rashi)

The Midrash (Shemot Rabbah 1:28) learns from this that the Jews in Egypt did not change their Jewish names.

Even though they assimilated into Egyptian culture, the Jews held strong to their names, language, and clothing. This steadfastness would become their weapon in their spiritual battle to preserve their unique identity as the Jewish people.

When Batya, Pharaoh’s daughter, went to bathe in the Nile, she noticed a basket floating and realized that the baby inside must be one of the Hebrew slaves.

Batya’s name means, “daughter of G‑d.” Though she was the daughter of Pharaoh who terrorized, enslaved, and murdered the Jews, Batya acted as the daughter of G‑d by risking her life to save Moses.

Batya named this Hebrew baby, Moses. Although Moses had seven different names, the name that the Torah calls him and the name by which G‑d addresses him is the name given to him by Batya, due to her selfless act.

Perhaps that’s the message of this portion and the entire book of Shemot.

To experience our own personal exodus, we need to view every person as an individual with his or her own exclusive set of struggles and challenges.

To preserve our humanity and to see another’s humanity, we must see them as a name—each one as an individual with a unique story and a unique destiny.

What’s your Hebrew name? How does it connect to your mission and individuality?

Chana Weisberg, Editor, TJW