
13 Elul 5782 | September 9, 2022
Parshat Ki Tetze
Susan Hornstein
Class of 2025
Parashat Ki Tetze contains part of Moshe Rabbeinu’s charge to B’nai Yisrael before entering the Promised Land. This charge comprises a review of the 40 years of Jewish history with an eye toward laws that will help them establish a just and effective society. The parasha includes two strikingly similar statements:
(ט) זָכ֕וֹר אֵ֧ת אֲשֶׁר־עָשָׂ֛ה יקוק אֱלֹקֶ֖יךָ לְמִרְיָ֑ם בַּדֶּ֖רֶךְ בְּצֵאתְכֶ֥ם מִמִּצְרָֽיִם׃ {ס}
Remember what the Lord your God did to Miriam on the journey when you left Egypt.
Remember what Amalek did to you on the journey when you left Egypt.
These statements share two segments in common: each one starts with “Zachor,” making it a positive commandment to “remember” something, and each one ends with “baderech b’tzeitchem miMitzrayim,” framing both occurrences as happening “on the journey when you left Egypt.”
The command Zachor or Zechor occurs nine times in the Torah, almost always referring to important occurrences in Jewish history from which we are supposed to derive a lesson. (The exceptions: in two instances, Moshe asks God to remember his covenant with us, and once, famously, we are commanded to remember Shabbat.) The two examples in our parasha definitely fall under the category of historical occurrences from which we should learn a lesson. The commentators agree that God’s punishment of Miriam is intended to teach us not to speak ill of others. Ramban emphasizes that this command to remember is as important as the command to remember Shabbat, because slander, like Shabbat, is of great importance: slander is considered to be tantamount to murder.
As for Amalek, the command to memorialize the war was given back in Shemot, and there God expresses an intent to wipe them out. Abarbanel explains that our pasuk adds another dimension. Amalek’s war with B’nai Yisrael was distinctive because they did not actually have any reason to attack B’nai Yisrael. They attacked simply because this was the people of God. This would suggest that it is God who should avenge this wrong, since it was really a sin against God. The command in our parsha comes to teach us that we, the Jewish people, have a responsibility to avenge the enemies of God. This fits nicely with the theme – reviewing history with an emphasis on the responsibilities of the Jewish people going forward. The Chatam Sofer, the 19th century Chassidic master, says that both Zachor pesukim teach us God’s kindness: that God weakened the Amalekites and kept them from destroying B’nai Yisrael, and that God made B’nai Yisrael wait seven days for Miriam to be released from her quarantine before resuming their travels.
The ending phrase of both pesukim, “baderech b’tzeitchem miMitzrayim,” “on the journey when you left Egypt,” occurs only one other time, also in this parsha. It is mentioned in the justification for the prohibition against marrying an Ammonite or Moabite:
Because they did not meet you with food and water on your journey after you left Egypt, and because they hired Balaam son of Beor, from Pethor of Aram-naharaim, to curse you.
Curiously, there is no explicit mention in the Torah of encounters with the Ammonites or the Moabites in which they refused to help the wandering B’nai Yisrael. They interact with Moab during the story of Balaam, in the second half of the book of Bamidbar, during the 40th year of wandering. The incident of Miriam’s slander takes place shortly before the sin of the spies, placing it in the second year of wandering, before the additional 38 years had been decreed. The war with Amalek was the first encounter with another nation after the Exodus, making it literally “on the journey when you left Egypt.” If these incidents didn’t all happen on their way out of Egypt, why are they all referred to as “baderech b’tzeitchem miMitzrayim,” “on the journey when you left Egypt?”
Rashi’s comment on the pasuk about the Ammonites quotes the Midrash Sifri Devarim, explaining that baderech, on the way, refers to the state of the people while they were in the wilderness, that they were וףּטר ֵב , ְּmessed up, or tossed about. Rashbam, Rashi’s grandson, commenting on the pasuk about Miriam, says that the phrase refers to the place – that they were in the inhospitable desert but waited for her anyway. What these explanations have in common is that the people were vulnerable to the elements, or to their state of distress. In fact, in the description in our parsha of the war with Amalek, the Torah explicitly states that the Amalekites targeted the most vulnerable:
How, undeterred by fear of God, he surprised you on the march, when you were famished and weary, and cut down all the stragglers in your rear.
Rather than interpreting “baderech b’tzeitchem miMitzrayim” as a time marker, it seems that we should interpret it to mean “when you were vulnerable,” regardless of when it occurred. The take-home lesson, then, is that we must remember how we were treated when we were vulnerable, and how we responded when others needed our support, even when we were vulnerable.
We are nearing the month of Tishrei, which is full of holidays. We look forward to spending time with family and friends during this time, eating delicious meals. Celebrating is a special mitzvah of its own: ושמחת בחגך – "you shall rejoice in your holiday." However, we mustn’t forget the rest of the pasuk – the whole pasuk reads:
You shall rejoice in your festival, with your son and daughter, your male and female servant, the Levite, the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow in your communities.
While we are joining together with our own folks, let’s not forget the vulnerable folks in our communities, the ones who don’t have the resources to celebrate, the ones who don’t have folks of their own, the ones who are baderech. Make a donation, invite someone who is alone. Then you will truly rejoice.



