Table for Five: Bo

Rabbi Mari Chernow

Senior Rabbi, Temple Israel of Hollywood

If God’s hardening of Pharaoh’s heart presents a theological challenge (i.e., could God really be the cause of Pharoah’s arrogance and the suffering that ensues) then God’s sending Moses to warn Pharaoh is even more perplexing. It is difficult enough to make sense of Pharaoh’s seeming lack of free will. Do Moses and Aaron then make a mockery by acting as if Pharaoh has an actual decision to make? 

Or is it possible that the warning that God commands in this verse comes to teach the opposite? That, in fact, even in the most impossible situations, we maintain free will? That, even when God – if you could say such a thing– even when God is working against us, we ultimately have control over our words, our decisions, our deeds? 

It is plainly obvious that Pharaoh will stay that course, that he is intractably committed to his stubborn position. Still, is it possible that he might just – against all odds – change his mind? Is it possible that the power-hungry might someday choose beneficence rather than dominance? That those who have always acted treacherously might unexpectedly discover integrity? That a lifetime of self-interest could be followed by a single action that is generous and just? 

It must be possible. 

Go to Pharoah. Warn him of what’s to come. Perhaps, even as I have hardened his heart, he will find the courage and the strength to change his mind.

Gilla Nissan

Author of “Meditations with the Hebrew Letters – Guide to the Modern Seeker” SeekAleph.com

This verse unsettles almost everyone. Why would God harden Pharaoh’s heart? Where is free will? It seems unfair, as if the order of moral choice is suddenly overturned. And God always does it. 

But when we look honestly at our own lives, we notice something similar. We often acted one way and not another, and only later judged ourselves harshly, thinking we were foolish or made terrible mistakes. Yet this judgment is still not deep enough. 

Kabbalah teaches that everything is in the hands of Heaven. What unfolded did so because it needed to unfold. Each soul has its own path, its own inner necessity. Freedom, then, is not random choice, but the willingness to choose what the soul itself has already chosen to live through. 

This is not fatalism, and not pessimism. It is a call to deeper wisdom, not theories that rise and fall, but Torah wisdom, Torat Emet, that endures. When we learn to read our lives through this lens, we stop fighting the past and begin gaining true deeper understanding and thus victory over the challenges before us. Let this understanding guide us. 

Judy Gruen  

Author of “Bylines and Blessings,” Editor at www.judygruen.com

This line struck me with its unbelievable timeliness this year. Today, when Jews go and speak out about antisemitism, whether to prime ministers, university presidents, media tastemakers, podcasters, the U.N. or college students, they are speaking to people who have hardened their hearts against Jewish suffering. Today’s “pharaohs” sit in their comfortable perches, twisting victim into oppressor, coldly turning against us, denying our right to even exist. 

And yet, like in this parsha, God has already shown incredible signs that should reassure us that ultimately He will deliver us from oppression. A recent article on Aish.com by Rabbi Uri Pilichowski, “We’re Living Through Miracles but Can’t See,” cites a series of stunning victories since Oct. 7 that are clear miracles, yet we were too immersed in current events to register them as such. The article is a must-read. These miracles include: the detonating pagers and walkie-talkies of Hezbollah fighters in September 2024; destroying Nasrallah’s “impenetrable” bunker ten days later; the June 2025 precision bombing of Iran, shattering its arsenal and killing 30 generals and nine nuclear scientists; Iron Dome’s interception of 99% of Iran’s missile barrage, and many more. Also astonishing: Yahya Sinwar apparently triggered the Oct. 7 pogrom months before a far grander, multi-front plot meant to annihilate the Jewish nation was ready. 

Today’s pharaohs will also fall. Let’s take a moment to express our thanks to God for His consistent miracles. Let’s stand proudly as Jews to continue to merit these signs and wonders.

Baruch C. Cohen, Esq.

Civil Trial Attorney

This verse is unsettling precisely because it strips us of easy moral comfort. Pharaoh is no longer merely stubborn; his heart has been hardened by God Himself. And yet Moses is still commanded to go. To speak. To confront. To stand before a man who will not listen. Why? Because redemption is not only about changing the oppressor, it is about revealing truth to the world. 

There are moments in history when hearts calcify so completely that persuasion becomes impossible. Logic fails. Compassion is mocked. Warnings are ignored. In those moments, God does not retreat. He reveals. He transforms resistance into revelation. Pharaoh’s refusal becomes the stage upon which Divine justice, patience, and moral clarity are displayed. 

This verse teaches that leadership is not measured by outcomes, but by obedience to truth. Moses is not sent to succeed, he is sent to testify. To stand in the fire and speak anyway. Sometimes God hardens hearts not to destroy the righteous, but to expose the hollowness of tyranny and the limits of human arrogance. The plagues are not merely punishments; they are disclosures, unmaskings of power without conscience. And so, when we face systems or individuals impervious to moral appeal, we are not absolved from action. We are summoned to witness. To speak truth even when it will not be received. To trust that revelation itself is redemption in motion. Because history is shaped not only by those who rule, but by those who refuse to be silent before them.

Gavriel Sanders

Spokesman, Be A Mensch Foundation

The text is unsettling. At first glance, it sounds unfair. If God hardens Pharaoh’s heart, where is free will? The Hebrew helps. The word used for “hardened” is hikbadti — from kaved, meaning heavy, not sealed or locked. Pharaoh’s heart isn’t removed; it’s weighed down. God doesn’t take away choice — He makes the consequences heavier. 

Here’s the pattern: Pharaoh repeatedly hardens his own heart. Only later does God “strengthen” that resistance. Why? Because at some point, resistance itself becomes the lesson. Think of someone who ignores warning lights in a car. At first, the dashboard flashes gently. Over time, the engine doesn’t suddenly “lose freedom” — it simply locks into the reality created by repeated neglect. The system hasn’t betrayed you; it has revealed you. 

That’s the purpose clause of the verse: so that I may place My signs. Not only to punish Pharaoh, but to teach Israel — and history — how power collapses when it refuses humility. The application is uncomfortable and urgent. There is a moment when persuasion gives way to exposure. When a heart resists truth long enough, God may stop arguing — and start demonstrating. 

That shift doesn’t announce itself. It looks like business as usual: habits calcify, feedback gets dismissed, and consequences feel “sudden” only because they were ignored for so long. What was once a warning becomes a weight. The question this passage asks us is not “Why Pharaoh?” but: Where might I be mistaking stubbornness for strength — before heaviness sets in? That’s a warning worth hearing early.