The Voice of Moshe’s Signs

Moshe’s Doubt and the Beginning of Redemption

Parshat Shemot opens the period of Shovavim, a time when both on a personal level and a national level we often feel as though we are “returning to Egypt”—experiencing constriction, servitude, and inner exile. The central weapon for redemption, as Rebbe Nachman teaches repeatedly, is simcha. Joy is not a luxury but a necessity for leaving Egypt.

In this shiur, we focus on a single episode in Parshat Shemot: Moshe Rabbeinu’s hesitation at the Burning Bush and the signs Hashem gives him to show the Jewish people. Though the Parshah is overflowing with depth, this moment reveals a foundational principle about faith, joy, leadership, and redemption.

“They Will Not Believe Me” – A Subtle Blemish

When Hashem commands Moshe to return to Egypt and redeem the Jewish people, Moshe responds with hesitation. He says that the people will not believe him and will claim that Hashem did not appear to him. Rashi points out that this statement constitutes lashon hara – slander – against the Jewish people. Moshe assumed that because they were in deep bondage, they must be broken in spirit, lacking joy, and therefore lacking emunah.

Rebbe Nachman teaches that sadness and emunah are inseparable: when there is a blemish in joy, faith weakens, and when faith weakens, joy disappears. Moshe believed the Jewish people had fallen so far into sadness that they could no longer believe in redemption.

Hashem rebukes Moshe for this assumption. Despite the suffering in Egypt, the Jewish people retained emunah. Even though many did not merit to leave Egypt, those who did were holding on to faith and hope. Moshe’s misjudgment revealed that even he, at that moment, had a subtle blemish in simcha and emunah.

The Staff That Becomes a Snake

Hashem responds by giving Moshe signs—not only for the Jewish people, but for Moshe himself. The first sign is the staff. Moshe is told to throw his staff to the ground, and it turns into a snake.

This staff was no ordinary staff. It was engraved with the initials of the Ten Plagues, which correspond on a deeper level to the Ten Sefirot, the Ten Utterances of Creation, and the Ten Types of Melody through which the world is rectified. The staff represents spiritual order, harmony, and divine structure.

When Moshe throws it down and it becomes a snake, Hashem is revealing that a blemish in simcha causes even holiness to fall into distortion. The snake is the ultimate symbol of sadness. The primordial snake was driven by jealousy, which stems from dissatisfaction and inner lack. Its punishment—to crawl without legs—reflects spiritual heaviness and despair.

By turning the staff into a snake, Hashem shows Moshe that his doubt in the Jewish people’s faith caused a fall from harmony into sadness. As a leader, Moshe is meant to see the good in the people and lift them up. This sign corrects Moshe’s perception.

The Leprous Hand and the Loss of Blessing

The second sign goes even deeper. Hashem instructs Moshe to place his hand into his bosom, and when he removes it, it is leprous. Leprosy represents spiritual blockage and separation.

Rebbe Nachman teaches that the hands are the gateway between joy and blessing. Blessings are activated through simcha, and the hands are the vessels that bring those blessings into the world. This is why the Kohanim raise their hands when blessing the Jewish people: “Vayisa Aharon et yadav el ha’am vayevarechem.”

When Moshe’s hand becomes leprous, Hashem is showing him that a blemish in joy and emunah damages the ability to channel blessing. Moshe’s doubt was not only intellectual—it affected his capacity to bring blessing to others.

The staff represents the root of creation and spiritual harmony. The hand represents personal transmission—how that harmony is brought into reality. Hashem corrects Moshe on both levels.

The “Voice” of the Signs

The Torah states that if the people do not listen to the voice of the first sign, they will listen to the voice of the second. This language is striking. Signs do not speak, yet the Torah refers to their voice.

Each sign carries an inner message. The “voice” of the staff turning into a snake declares that sadness destroys spiritual order. The “voice” of the leprous hand declares that without joy, blessing cannot flow.

The word kol (voice) is written without a vav, indicating a broken voice—a hint to the spiritual blockage caused by sadness. These signs speak not through sound but through meaning.

A person may lack knowledge, observance, or clarity—but if he holds onto emunah and simcha, he will find his way back.

Correcting the Leader Before Redeeming the People

Before Moshe can redeem the Jewish people, he himself must be corrected. Hashem shows him that leadership requires unwavering faith in the inner goodness of Israel. Redemption cannot begin with despair, suspicion, or judgment. It must begin with compassion, joy, and trust.

These signs were not meant to intimidate the people, but to restore Moshe’s ability to see their emunah, even in exile. Only then could he return to Egypt as a true redeemer.

The Two Voices of Yaakov

The Torah describes the signs given to Moshe Rabbeinu as having a voice—kol—yet the word kol is written in an unusual way, without the letter vav. This spelling points directly to the first voice – Kol – mentioned in the verse spoken by Yitzchak: “Hakol kol Yaakov, v’hayadayim yedei Esav.” The voice is the voice of Yaakov, but the hands are the hands of Esav (the first Kol is written also without the letter vav).

The voice of Yaakov has two stages. There is an initial voice—broken, incomplete—when a person cries out to Hashem from pain, pressure, and confusion. This is the kol written without a vav. It is real and necessary, but it is not the final goal. The true voice of Yaakov is the complete voice, kol with a vav—the voice of joy, praise, song, gratitude, and confidence in Hashem.

The Torah itself identifies joy-filled voices as the ultimate expression of redemption: kol sason, kol simcha, kol chatan, kol kallah, kol omrim hodu laHashem ki tov. These are the voices that rebuild the world. Crying out is a beginning, but rejoicing is the completion.

Moshe’s Admission and the Power of Healing

When Moshe shows the Jewish people the signs, he is not merely performing miracles. He is admitting something deeply personal. He shows them that because he doubted their emunah, he himself was struck—his staff fell into sadness, his hand became leprous. Yet immediately, both signs are healed. The snake returns to a staff. The leprous hand becomes whole again.

This healing is the message. Moshe demonstrates that even a fall in faith can be repaired. Even a leader who stumbles can rise again. If Moshe can rectify himself, then the Jewish people can believe that redemption is possible for them as well. The signs speak not through spectacle, but through meaning.

The Mystery of 130 and the Rectification of Egypt

These signs connect to a deeper pattern that runs throughout the Torah: the number 130. Adam HaRishon separated from Chavah for 130 years, during which spiritual damage occurred through wasted seed/emissions. Yaakov entered Egypt at age 130, describing his years as difficult and bad. Yocheved gave birth to Moshe Rabbeinu at age 130.

Egypt itself exists to rectify this damage. The sparks lost during Adam’s 130 years were drawn into Egypt, and the Jewish people were sent there to extract them. Yaakov’s final 17 years in Egypt—tov in gematria—represent the beginning of that rectification. Moshe Rabbeinu is born precisely at the point where the healing can begin.

The two signs Moshe receives correspond to this process. The first sign addresses the root—Adam’s blemish. The second addresses the hands—Yaakov’s struggle with Esav. Together they form the beginning and the end, which is why the Torah refers to the signs as first and last, not first and second.

Simcha as the Weapon of Redemption

The conclusion of all these threads is unmistakable. Exile is sadness. Sadness leads to weakened emunah, distorted perception, and spiritual collapse. Redemption begins with simcha. This is why the Jewish people continued to grow in Egypt despite unimaginable suffering. They found ways to rejoice, to love, to build families, to believe.

The Midrash describes how Jewish women sustained their husbands, restoring joy and hope even in the depths of slavery. That joy kept the nation alive. Pharaoh tried to crush morale, but simcha defeated him.

This is why Hashem rebuked Moshe for doubting the people. Even in Egypt, even in exile, the Jewish people retained emunah and simcha. That spark was enough to ignite redemption.

Leaving Egypt Then and Now

This lesson from Parshat Shemot is timeless. Our personal Egypts are fueled by sadness. Our exits begin with joy. A person may lack knowledge, observance, or clarity—but if he holds onto emunah and simcha, he will find his way back.

The final purpose of creation is that Hashem’s goodness be revealed in the world. And that revelation is experienced as joy. To believe that Hashem loves you, that your life has meaning, and that there is always hope—that itself is already the beginning of geulah.

This was true in Egypt, and it remains true today. Through simcha and emunah, we can leave every form of exile, b’ezrat Hashem.

Shabbat Shalom and only good.

Meir Elkabas