This week's portion describes the giving of the Ten Commandments, and the Torah spares no expense to bring us special effects worthy of the event: smoke and fire, thunder and lightning, and an earthquake, all accompanied by the blare of a shofar growing louder and louder. The Israelites are about to experience God's self-revelation, in a most dramatic fashion. But this week also has something for those who like their dramatic moments more subtle.

The stories in this week's reading may seem disjointed, but in fact they form a single unit. A modern editor, looking for a groovy chapter title, might have called the collection, "Ancient Israel's Bipolar Moment." Or, even more flippantly, "Hands Up!"

Our parashah begins: "God said to Moses: 'Come to Pharaoh, for I have hardened his heart and the heart of his servants in order to place these signs of mine in his midst.'" Indeed, this motif of the hardened heart already appeared in last week's portion and recurs nearly a dozen times in the context of the ten plagues. The problem, however, is this: If Pharaoh and the Egyptians were denied free will in their dealings with Moses, how can their subsequent punishment be justified?

In last week's column, Moshe Sokolow pointed out that the name of the portion was Sh'mot, a word that itself means "names." He took that as an opportunity to mention some of the more interesting Jewish surnames and their meanings. I cannot resist adding my own favorite: Remba, an acronym taken from Proverbs 19:21, "Many are the schemes of the human mind."

"These are the names of the children of Israel": Despite having designated them by name during their lifetimes, [Scripture] enumerates them again, posthumously, to indicate how beloved they were. (Rashi 1:1)

While the traditional English title of Sh'mot is "Exodus," the word translates literally as "names." This presents us with the opportunity to explore the significance the Bible attaches to names, in general, and the meaning of one individual name, in particular.

The time of patriarchs was reaching its end. Jacob was dying, and alongside his dictation of burial arrangements, he also gave final words to his twelve sons, words in which he would tell them "what will befall you in the end of days." We usually read them as his final "blessings." But in the case of two sons, Simeon and Levi, they are assuredly curses.

 
After Joseph reveals his identity to his brothers, he instructs them to return to Canaan and bring Jacob down to Egypt. When they inform Jacob that Joseph is not merely alive but the vice-regent of Egypt, "his heart became numb because he could not believe them" (45:26).

How to make sense of Joseph?

This week we learn of his nearly pathological efforts to ensnare, baffle, accuse, imprison, and shame his brothers—the same brothers who, decades earlier, sold him into slavery. Now he is Grand Vizier of Egypt, and he gets a chance to show them who's boss.

Arlo Guthrie, the Jewish folk singer, likes to call him "the 'they-went-that-a-way' guy."  He is the man who tells Joseph where to find his brothers. If Joseph did not find them, Guthrie points out, his brothers would have no opportunity to throw him into a pit and he would not have been sold down to Egypt.

In this week's portion, in Genesis 32–33, we read of the long-delayed encounter between Jacob and his twin brother Esau. Jacob has spent the last 20 years in Mesopotamia, where he fled to escape Esau's murderous wrath after deceiving Isaac into giving him the blessing he had intended for his (just barely) older son.