When we study a passage in the Bible, it is helpful to identify key words that are repeated throughout that passage—this helps us understand the underlying message of a Torah section. The root “yadoa” (yod/daleth/ayin) or “to know” appears about 20 times in the story of the exodus from Egypt and in each case it is a keyword at a crucial juncture in the narrative. We conventionally translate ‘‘yadoa” to mean either intellectual awareness or experience. I’d like to explore the special significance of the word “yadoa” in this week’s Torah reading, Parashat Va-era.
The first place that “yadoa” appears in the exodus story is Shemot 1:8 which reads: “Va-yakom melekh hadash, asher lo yada et Yosef (A new king arose who did not know Joseph.)” Close readers, as they were, the sages of the Talmud were troubled by the language of this seemingly simple verse. They wondered why the text never told us that the old king died—only that a new king arose.
The first generation Babylonian Amoraim, Rav and Shemuel, did not even agree that a new Pharaoh necessarily took over. Rav believed that a new king took the throne. Shmuel suggested that it was the same old Pharaoh—but the king instituted new decrees against the Hebrews. Rav and Shemuel play out the logical conclusions of each of their views for the remaining language of the verse—asher lo yada et Yosef—who did not know Joseph. If the king was indeed new, then it is possible that he did not know Joseph. And if it was the same old king, then he knew Joseph but the problem was: he acted as if he did not know Joseph.
The Babylonian Amora, Rav Avin, expands on this idea. R. Avin poses a rhetorical question—whether the Pharaoh was new or old, is it possible that he did not know of Joseph? Ve-khi lo haya makir et Yosef? After all, Joseph was legendary in Egypt for saving the people from starvation with his impressive economic reorganization!
The true message of our verse, then, is not about whether Pharaoh actually met and shook hands with Joseph. Rather, it is an observation about Pharaoh’s character. “Asher lo yada et Yosef” does not mean that Pharaoh did not know Joseph personally, but rather that pharaoh refused to acknowledge the good that Joseph did for the Egyptian nation. The root “yadoa” appears to take on a new level of meaning in the exodus story—it is not just about knowledge but about how one acts in response to that knowledge—it is not just about intellectual cognition but also about acknowledgment.
Indeed, the theme of acknowledgment is striking throughout the exodus story. Towards the end of Parashat Shemot, in 5:2, Pharaoh refuses to allow the Israelite slaves to worship their God in the wilderness expressing his disapproval with the use of our keyword—“lo yadati et Hashem, ve-gam et Yisrael lo ashaleah.” Just as Pharoah does not acknowledge the good that Joseph did for Egypt, so too Pharaoh does not acknowledge the God of Joseph and the needs of the nation of Israel. Therefore, he refuses to accord them the right of religious worship.
It is only the experience of the plagues and the miracles of the exodus that inspire the recognition of Pharoah and his people. As God declares to Moses in Shemot 7:5 “Ve-yadeu mitzrayim ki ani Hashem—And the Egyptians shall acknowledge that I am the Lord, when I stretch out my hand over Egypt and bring out the Israelites from their midst.”
The story of the exodus from Egypt is not merely about knowledge or even faith. It is about the challenge of knowledge—how we act with regard to that which we know. The Pharaoh of the oppression refused to acknowledge Joseph and his God, and actively oppressed the Hebrew people (“lo yada et Yoseph,” “lo yadati et Hashem”).
But in this very same era, the nation of Israel was born—a nation born of acknowledgment, of the gratitude and appreciation for our salvation and a commitment to live a life of sanctity and morality. As God declares at the opening of Parashat Va’era , the result of redemption must be : “V’yedatem ki ani Hashem Elokeikhem (And you shall acknowledge that I the Lord am your God who freed you from Egyptian bondage.)”
Proudly acknowledging who we are; what we have learned from our history and how we must shape our lives to make our community and the world a better place, is the lesson of “yadoa” in the exodus story.
Rachel Friedman is a noted teacher, author and lecturer in the areas of Bible and Jewish liturgy. She is Associate Dean and Chair of Tanakh Studies at the Drisha Institute for Jewish Education in New York City. She is also founding director of Drisha’s Yesodot Skill-Building Program. Ms. Friedman has served as scholar-in-residence at synagogues and educational institutions throughout the United States and abroad. She has an MA in Bible from the Bernard Revel Graduate School at Yeshiva University and a JD from Columbia University School of Law.
by Rachel Friedman
