Exodus 3

Hook

We stand at a crossroads, both ancient and profoundly modern. The story of the Jewish people is a tapestry woven with threads of deep belonging and agonizing displacement, of divine promise and human striving, of liberation and the complex responsibilities that come with it. For those of us who carry the dream of a Jewish homeland, the State of Israel, the tension is palpable: How do we hold onto the foundational narrative of our people's return to its ancestral land, while also grappling with the realities and challenges faced by all inhabitants of that land today? How do we build a nation that is both secure in its identity and profoundly committed to justice for all?

This isn't a simple question with easy answers. It's the enduring dilemma that sits at the heart of the Zionist project, a movement born from both ancient longing and modern necessity. It’s the hope that fuels our work, and the honesty that demands we confront our imperfections. To navigate this intricate landscape, we must return to our roots, to the very moment our people received its call to nationhood. We must listen to the whispers of the past – to the divine voice that summoned a reluctant shepherd, Moses, and set in motion the epic journey of a people from slavery to sovereignty. This ancient text, Exodus Chapter 3, is not merely a historical account; it is a living document, a burning bush that continues to blaze with enduring questions about identity, liberation, and the sacred obligation to build a just society in a promised land. It calls us to consider not just what was promised, but how that promise is to be fulfilled, especially when the path is fraught with human complexity and competing narratives. It's a call to a strong spine, rooted in our heritage, and an open heart, ready to embrace the multifaceted realities of our shared future.

Text Snapshot

The following verses from Exodus 3 capture the essence of God's call to Moses, the foundational promise, and the inherent complexity of the land:

"A messenger of יהוה appeared to him in a blazing fire out of a bush... And יהוה continued, 'I have marked well the plight of My people in Egypt and have heeded their outcry... I have come down to rescue them from the Egyptians and to bring them out of that land to a good and spacious land, a land flowing with milk and honey, the region of the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites. Come, therefore, I will send you to Pharaoh, and you shall free My people, the Israelites, from Egypt.'"

Context

The story of the Burning Bush in Exodus 3 serves as a foundational narrative for Jewish peoplehood, deeply shaping our understanding of liberation, divine mandate, and the special relationship with the Land of Israel. Its echoes reverberate through millennia, informing both ancient covenantal theology and modern Zionist aspirations. To truly appreciate its profound relevance to "Zionism & Modern Israel," we must delve into its historical, theological, and ideological implications.

The Genesis of a People and a Promise: More Than Just a Date

The narrative unfolds at a critical juncture in the biblical timeline, marking the transition from a collection of families descended from Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob into a nascent nation. The "date" here is less about a specific year on a calendar and more about a moment of divine intervention that irrevocably alters the trajectory of human history. For centuries, the descendants of Jacob had been living as a minority, then enslaved, in Egypt. Their identity was being forged in the crucible of oppression, their cries reaching "heaven." This is not merely a historical account of ancient Egypt but the origin story of a people destined for nationhood.

In the context of modern Zionism, this ancient narrative takes on renewed urgency and meaning. The yearning for liberation from oppression, the desire for self-determination, and the dream of returning to an ancestral homeland are not new inventions of the 19th or 20th centuries. They are deeply embedded in the Jewish consciousness, continually reinforced by the Passover Seder, daily prayers, and generations of longing. The Exodus story, therefore, provides a profound template for the Zionist project. It articulates the fundamental Jewish claim to nationhood and sovereignty, grounding it in a narrative of divine promise and collective memory. The journey from Mitzrayim (Egypt) to Eretz Yisrael (Land of Israel) became the prototype for all subsequent exiles and returns. The "date" of Exodus 3 is, thus, a timeless moment of national awakening, a blueprint for a future where a persecuted people could finally be "a free people in our land."

Moses, the Reluctant Leader, and the Collective Agency of a People

The primary "actor" in Exodus 3 is Moses, a reluctant prophet and shepherd, chosen by God to lead his people out of bondage. His initial response, "Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and free the Israelites from Egypt?" (Exodus 3:11), speaks to a universal human apprehension when faced with a monumental task. Yet, God's assurance, "I will be with you," transforms this individual's doubt into a divine mandate. Moses is not acting on his own ambition but as an agent of a higher purpose, embodying the principle that leadership often emerges from humility and a deep sense of responsibility.

However, Moses is merely the vessel for a larger "actor": the Israelite people. It is their plight God has seen, their outcry God has heard. This narrative shifts the focus from individual heroism to collective destiny. It is the story of a people, suffering under oppression, being called to become a self-governing entity. In modern Zionist thought, this collective agency is paramount. Zionism wasn't just about individual Jews seeking refuge; it was about the Jewish people as a whole reclaiming their sovereignty and dignity. The early Zionists, while often secular in their personal beliefs, drew deeply from this narrative of collective liberation. They saw themselves as latter-day Moses figures, leading their people out of the "Egypts" of persecution and anti-Semitism to establish a modern, self-determined nation in their ancestral land. The text reminds us that the task of nation-building, like the task of liberation, is a collective endeavor, requiring the participation and shared responsibility of all members of the people. It centers the idea of "peoplehood" – an enduring, transnational bond that transcends geography and political affiliation, rooted in shared history and destiny.

The Aim: Liberation, Land, and the Inherent Tensions of Promise

The stated "aim" of God's intervention is crystal clear: "I have come down to rescue them from the Egyptians and to bring them out of that land to a good and spacious land, a land flowing with milk and honey, the region of the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites" (Exodus 3:8). This aim encompasses two interconnected pillars: liberation from oppression and the promise of a specific land.

The liberation aspect resonates profoundly with Zionist aspirations. After centuries of persecution, pogroms, and ultimately the Holocaust, the idea of a secure refuge where Jews could live free from fear and self-determine their destiny became an existential imperative. The Zionist movement, in many ways, was a modern Exodus, seeking to bring a scattered and persecuted people "out of misery" to a land of their own.

However, the text immediately introduces a profound complexity, a tension that has defined the Zionist project from its inception: the promised "good and spacious land, a land flowing with milk and honey" is explicitly identified as "the region of the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites." This is not an empty land; it is already inhabited. The biblical narrative itself does not shy away from this reality. While the text primarily focuses on the Israelite claim, it implicitly sets the stage for future conflicts and ethical dilemmas concerning co-existence, displacement, and the rights of existing populations.

For modern Zionism, this ancient tension becomes a living challenge. The establishment of Israel, while fulfilling the longing for liberation and return for Jews, inevitably impacted the existing Palestinian Arab population. The question of how to actualize the promise of a homeland for one people without denying the rights and narratives of another is the central ethical and political challenge facing Israel today. It demands a constant re-evaluation of responsibility, not just towards one's own people, but towards all human beings living in the land. The "aim" of Exodus 3, therefore, is not just about gaining a land, but about the profound ethical demands placed upon a people entrusted with such a promise – demands for justice, compassion, and the creation of a society that truly reflects the "holy ground" upon which it stands. This deep-dive into the context highlights that the path of Zionism, like the path of Moses, is one of profound purpose, but also of immense complexity and ongoing ethical responsibility.

Two Readings

The narrative of Exodus 3, particularly the divine call at the burning bush, provides a rich tapestry through which to understand the complex ideological underpinnings of Zionism and modern Israel. We can discern two distinct, yet interconnected, readings that illuminate the multifaceted nature of Jewish peoplehood and its relationship to the land: the Covenantal Imperative and the Civic Call to Liberation. Each offers a unique lens, bringing into focus different aspects of the text and its enduring relevance.

Reading 1: The Covenantal Imperative – A Divine Mandate for Peoplehood and Land

This reading emphasizes the theological foundation of Jewish peoplehood and its unique, divinely ordained connection to the Land of Israel. It frames the events of Exodus 3 as a direct continuation of the patriarchal covenant, where God's promise to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is now being actualized through the liberation of their descendants. The land is not merely a geographical location but a sacred inheritance, integral to the Jewish identity and destiny.

God's self-identification to Moses – "I am the God of your father’s [house]—the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob" (Exodus 3:6) – immediately anchors the moment in a lineage of divine commitment. This isn't a new covenant, but a reaffirmation of an ancient, unbroken promise. The land, "a good and spacious land, a land flowing with milk and honey," is explicitly named as the destination, a fulfillment of that very covenant. This divine imperative transforms the Jewish people from a scattered family into a nation with a spiritual mission inextricably linked to a specific territory. The land becomes not just a place to live, but a stage upon which the covenantal drama of a holy people is meant to unfold.

For many Zionists, especially those coming from religious streams, this covenantal reading provides the ultimate justification for Jewish sovereignty in Israel. It posits an inherent, theological right to the land, predating and superseding any temporal claims. The return to Zion is not merely a political act but a religious obligation, a redemptive moment in Jewish history. This perspective often views the establishment of the modern State of Israel as a "first flowering of our redemption" (Reshit Tzemichat Geulateinu), a miraculous fulfillment of millennia of prayer and prophecy. The continued presence of Jews in the land, despite exiles and persecutions, is seen as evidence of this enduring covenant. The land is not just a place of refuge but a place of sacred purpose, where the Jewish people can fully realize their unique identity and contribute to the world from a place of spiritual rootedness.

The commentary tradition often reinforces this view. Sforno, on Exodus 3:1:1, notes Moses's journey to "Har HaElohim Horeb" (the mountain of God, Horeb) as an act of solitary prayer and meditation, "in complete isolation and concentration." This suggests that the encounter with the divine, and thus the call to lead, requires profound spiritual preparation and an intentional seeking of God. In a Zionist context, this can be interpreted as the deep spiritual yearning for Zion that animated generations, a profound internal preparation for the eventual external return. The land itself is a place conducive to such divine encounter, a place where one can "inquire after Godliness," as Haamek Davar suggests on Exodus 3:1:2, explaining Moses's choice of a desolate, solitary place. The act of returning to the land, therefore, is not just a physical migration but a spiritual pilgrimage, a reconnection with the source of the covenant.

Or HaChaim, on Exodus 3:1:1, posits that God "had His hand in this, i.e. He caused the sheep to move in that direction," or that "the sheep walked to that mountain on that occasion for G'd wanted to speak to him there." This emphasizes divine providence, suggesting that the path to the land, and the establishment of the state, is not merely a product of human effort but guided by a higher will. This perspective imbues the Zionist enterprise with a sense of destiny and divine purpose, providing strength and conviction in the face of adversity.

However, this covenantal reading also brings significant tensions, particularly in a modern, pluralistic world. The text explicitly names the existing inhabitants of the land: "the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites." The divine promise is not to an empty land, but to a land already occupied. How does a divinely mandated claim reconcile with the ethical demands of justice and human rights for those who also inhabit the land, and who may have their own historical and emotional connections to it? The covenantal perspective, while providing a powerful sense of belonging and purpose for the Jewish people, can sometimes be perceived as exclusive, potentially sidelining or even negating the claims of other peoples. The challenge, then, is to hold onto the strength of the covenantal promise while simultaneously extending its ethical demands to encompass all who dwell in the land, recognizing that "holy ground" demands holy, just, and compassionate behavior towards all of God's creations. It demands a people, liberated by divine hand, to build a society that reflects divine justice.

Reading 2: The Civic Call to Liberation and Self-Determination – A Humanist Response to Oppression

This reading focuses on the universal themes of liberation from oppression, the inherent dignity of a suffering people, and the right to self-determination. It interprets Exodus 3 not just as a unique divine mandate for the Jewish people, but as a paradigmatic story of human liberation that resonates with broader struggles for justice and national independence. Here, Zionism is understood as a modern nationalist movement, born out of necessity and driven by the universal human desire for freedom and self-governance.

The text emphasizes God's visceral response to suffering: "I have marked well the plight of My people in Egypt and have heeded their outcry because of their taskmasters; yes, I am mindful of their sufferings" (Exodus 3:7). This is a God who sees injustice and responds to human anguish. The primary motivation for the Exodus is the alleviation of suffering and the granting of freedom. Moses's mission is explicitly "you shall free My people, the Israelites, from Egypt" (Exodus 3:10). This liberation is a fundamental human right, a universal aspiration shared by all oppressed peoples.

From this perspective, modern Zionism is a direct heir to this call for liberation. Faced with centuries of persecution, discrimination, pogroms, and ultimately the Holocaust, the Jewish people, like the Israelites in Egypt, cried out. Zionism emerged as a political and social movement to address this existential threat, to provide a refuge, and to establish a sovereign state where Jews could determine their own destiny, free from the whims of other nations. It was a movement for self-emancipation, a recognition that the Jewish people, like any other, deserved a normal existence in their own land. The "land flowing with milk and honey" is understood here not just as a divine inheritance, but as the practical space necessary for national flourishing, cultural revival, and collective security. It is the place where a stateless people can finally become masters of their own fate.

The commentaries, even those deeply rooted in tradition, offer insights that support this civic reading. Rashbam, on Exodus 3:1:1, highlights the practical concern for Moses's safety, noting that God's reassurance about the death of Pharaoh and those who sought to kill him (Exodus 4:19) was crucial for Moses to overcome his fear and return to Egypt. "The Holy One, blessed be He, appeared to him and commanded him to return to Egypt, and Moshe did not want to do so, because he was afraid until the Holy One, blessed be He, told him, 'all the men who sought to kill you are dead' — this is Par'oh, who had died." This emphasizes the pragmatic, life-saving aspect of the mission – Zionism as a refuge from physical danger. It underscores the basic human need for security and the political imperative to create a safe haven.

Kli Yakar, on Exodus 3:1:1, discusses Moses's role as a shepherd, noting that "most prophets attained prophecy from shepherding. For prophecy requires solitude, and by seeing the heavens, the work of God's hands... through this, all his thoughts will be focused on the existence of the Holy One... This is not as common for one who sits at home or performs other work in the field, except for the shepherd who sits idle most of the time." While focusing on prophecy, this commentary also subtly highlights the shepherd's role as one who cares deeply for his flock, spending time in quiet contemplation and observation. This can be interpreted as a metaphor for leadership – a leader must deeply understand the plight of their people, empathize with their suffering, and seek solutions. Zionist leaders, whether secular or religious, often saw themselves in this role, guiding a vulnerable flock towards safety and self-sufficiency.

Ibn Ezra, on Exodus 3:1:1, provides a fascinating linguistic insight by noting that Moses, when writing the Torah, used "contemporary terminology" for "the mountain of God, Horeb." He explains that "It was not yet known as the mountain of God since the Lord had not yet revealed Himself on it. However, when Moses wrote the Torah about 40 years later, it was so known." This suggests a dynamic interpretation of tradition, where texts are understood and articulated through the lens of lived experience and evolving understanding. For modern Zionism, this can imply that while rooted in ancient texts, the movement must also adapt and articulate its vision in terms relevant to contemporary political and ethical realities. It acknowledges the need for the narrative to remain alive and responsive to changing circumstances, rather than being static and rigid.

The tension inherent in this civic reading arises from the fact that while Zionism is a legitimate movement for Jewish self-determination, it was established in a land where another people also resided and had their own claims to self-determination. The desire to create a secure homeland for one group inevitably led to displacement and conflict for another. The ethical responsibility, therefore, is to ensure that the liberation of one people does not come at the cost of the oppression of another. The commitment to self-determination must extend to all who live in the land. This reading challenges Israel to live up to the universal values of justice and human rights that underpin its own liberation narrative, ensuring that the "good and spacious land" truly provides peace and dignity for all its inhabitants. It demands that the Jewish people, having been freed from taskmasters, become a people that champions freedom and justice for all, embodying the moral lessons learned from their own suffering.

In conclusion, both the covenantal and civic readings of Exodus 3 are essential for a comprehensive understanding of Zionism. The covenantal imperative provides the deep spiritual and historical roots, emphasizing the unique bond between the Jewish people, God, and the land. The civic call to liberation highlights the universal human right to self-determination and refuge from oppression. A robust, ethical Zionism must hold both these readings in dynamic tension: cherishing the divine promise while rigorously upholding universal human values, acknowledging the unique Jewish narrative while empathetically engaging with the narratives of others in the land. This complex interplay is the ongoing work of building a just and enduring future.

Civic Move

Cultivating Shared Empathy and Responsibility through "Echoes of Exodus" Dialogues

The Burning Bush narrative in Exodus 3, with its themes of divine call, human suffering, liberation, and the promise of a land already inhabited, serves as a powerful, albeit complex, foundational text for understanding the Jewish relationship to Israel. To address the inherent tensions and foster a future-minded approach that centers peoplehood and responsibility, a vital civic move is to create structured, facilitated dialogue spaces focused on "Echoes of Exodus": exploring shared and divergent narratives of liberation, displacement, and belonging in the land, with a commitment to mutual empathy and collective responsibility.

This initiative moves beyond simply acknowledging "tensions" to actively engaging with the human experiences that underpin those tensions. It recognizes that the story of Exodus, in its profound resonance, can either be a source of exclusive claim or a universal paradigm for understanding the yearning for freedom and the complexities of achieving it in a contested space. The goal is to harness the power of narrative to bridge divides, foster understanding, and identify shared ground for future action.

Specific Steps for Implementation:

1. Develop a "Echoes of Exodus" Curriculum & Training Module (6-12 months)

• Curriculum Design: Create a modular curriculum exploring Exodus 3 and related texts (both Jewish and, importantly, parallel narratives from Palestinian experiences of displacement and longing). This curriculum would include:
  • Text Study: Deep-dives into Exodus 3 and its traditional commentaries (as outlined in our lesson).
  • Historical Context: Exploration of the historical evolution of Jewish and Palestinian claims to the land, focusing on key events (e.g., 1948, 1967) and their differing interpretations.
  • Narrative Prompts: Guided questions designed to elicit personal and communal stories related to themes of belonging, displacement, security, hope, and responsibility.
  • Ethical Frameworks: Introduction to concepts of transitional justice, restorative justice, human rights, and the ethics of nation-building.
• Facilitator Training: Recruit and train a diverse cohort of facilitators (Jewish, Palestinian, and others) in dialogue techniques, conflict resolution, active listening, and managing emotionally charged conversations. Training should emphasize creating a safe space for vulnerability and disagreement without resorting to debate or demonization. This training would draw on the Kli Yakar's insight about the shepherd's solitude for prophecy – fostering leaders who can create space for deep listening and reflection.

2. Pilot "Echoes of Exodus" Dialogue Circles (Ongoing)

• Target Audience: Begin with smaller, diverse groups of 10-15 participants. Ideal groups would be mixed:
  • Young adults (18-30) from Jewish and Palestinian communities, both within Israel and the diaspora.
  • Community leaders, educators, and spiritual figures.
  • Professionals working in fields related to peacebuilding, human rights, or cultural preservation.
• Structure: Each circle would meet for 6-8 sessions, approximately 2-3 hours each.
  • Session 1: Shared Text, Initial Reflections: Introduce Exodus 3, discuss personal connections to themes of liberation, homeland, and belonging.
  • Sessions 2-4: Divergent Narratives & Empathy Building: Participants share their family/communal narratives related to the land, focusing on personal impact and emotional resonance, without interruption or debate. The focus is on active listening and empathic inquiry. This directly addresses God's "marking well the plight of My people" – extending that empathy to all people.
  • Sessions 5-6: Ethical Dilemmas & Responsibility: Discuss the challenges and responsibilities inherent in establishing and maintaining a homeland when other peoples are also present. Explore how the Exodus narrative itself presents these complexities (e.g., "land of the Canaanites").
  • Session 7: Envisioning a Shared Future: Brainstorm concrete actions or principles for co-existence, shared governance, or mutual recognition.
  • Session 8: Committing to Action: Participants identify personal and communal commitments to continue the dialogue or engage in joint initiatives.
• Contextualized Learning Journeys: For groups able to travel, incorporate site visits to places of historical significance for both Jewish and Palestinian communities, accompanied by joint facilitators who can present multiple narratives. This moves the dialogue from abstract to tangible, connecting the ancient text to lived experience on the ground.

3. Expand and Integrate into Existing Structures (Long-term)

• Educational Institutions: Partner with universities, schools, and informal education programs (e.g., Taglit-Birthright Israel, youth movements, interfaith initiatives) to integrate "Echoes of Exodus" modules into their curricula.
• Cultural & Religious Institutions: Collaborate with synagogues, mosques, churches, and community centers to host dialogue circles and public forums. The "holy ground" of Horeb should extend to all spaces where these conversations take place, demanding reverence and respect.
• Digital Platforms: Develop online resources, virtual dialogue spaces, and digital storytelling projects to reach a wider audience and allow for ongoing engagement.

Potential Partners:

• Dialogue & Peacebuilding NGOs: Parents Circle – Families Forum (bereaved Israeli and Palestinian families), Hand in Hand Schools (integrated bilingual schools), EcoPeace Middle East (environmental cooperation), Combatants for Peace (ex-combatants working for peace), Seeds of Peace. These organizations already have expertise in facilitating difficult conversations and building trust across divides.
• Academic Institutions: Universities in Israel, Palestine, and abroad with departments in peace and conflict studies, Middle Eastern studies, or Jewish/Palestinian studies.
• Religious & Interfaith Organizations: Organizations promoting interfaith dialogue and cooperation, leveraging the shared Abrahamic heritage.
• Diaspora Jewish and Palestinian Organizations: Groups in North America, Europe, and elsewhere working on similar issues, connecting global communities to the challenges and opportunities in the land.

Examples of Similar Successful Initiatives:

• "My Story, Your Story, Our Story" projects: Various organizations have facilitated narrative-sharing workshops where Israelis and Palestinians share personal histories, building empathy through direct encounter.
• Dual-Narrative Textbooks: Initiatives to develop history textbooks that present both Israeli and Palestinian perspectives on key historical events, acknowledging the validity of different experiences.
• Joint Cultural & Artistic Projects: Collaborations in music, theater, film, and art that explore shared humanity and address conflict through creative expression.

Rationale:

This civic move is deeply rooted in the spirit of Exodus 3. God's act of "marking well the plight of My people" is an act of profound empathy and recognition of suffering. Moses's initial reluctance ("Who am I?") but eventual acceptance of responsibility for his people's liberation underscores the burden of leadership and the call to action. The text also names the "Canaanites, Hittites, Amorites, Perizzites, Hivites, and Jebusites" – acknowledging the presence of others in the promised land, even if the primary narrative focuses on the Israelites.

By creating "Echoes of Exodus" dialogue spaces, we:

1. Emulate God's Empathy: We actively strive to "mark well the plight" of all peoples connected to the land, listening to their outcries and sufferings, even when they challenge our own narratives.
2. Embrace Moses's Responsibility: We acknowledge the immense responsibility that comes with nationhood and liberation, especially in a contested land. This means not just securing our own freedom, but ensuring justice and dignity for others.
3. Confront Complexity Directly: We recognize that the "land flowing with milk and honey" is not a blank slate, and that the fulfillment of one people's dream inevitably impacts others. These dialogues force us to grapple with these complexities rather than ignore them.
4. Center Peoplehood with an Open Heart: We strengthen the Jewish people's connection to its foundational narrative, but we do so with an open heart that seeks to understand and build relationships with other peoplehoods, rather than retreating into insular claims. We move from a posture of "us vs. them" to "us and them," united by a shared future, however challenging.

This approach acknowledges that true national security and flourishing for Israel will ultimately depend not just on military strength, but on its ability to build just and equitable relationships with all who live in the land and its surrounding region. It is a civic move that believes in the transformative power of human connection, informed by ancient wisdom, to forge a more hopeful and responsible future.

Takeaway + Citations

Exodus 3 is far more than an ancient tale; it is a living text that continues to challenge and inspire us in our understanding of Zionism and modern Israel. It reminds us that the journey of peoplehood is fundamentally one of liberation from oppression, a profound yearning for a home, and the weighty responsibility that comes with achieving that dream in a complex world. The text presents us with a divine promise of land and peoplehood, while simultaneously, through its very naming of the land's existing inhabitants, foreshadowing the ethical dilemmas and shared responsibilities that are inherent in such a promise.

To engage with Zionism and modern Israel with both a strong spine and an open heart means to embrace this complexity. It means holding firm to the covenantal roots and the imperative of Jewish self-determination, while simultaneously extending the compassionate and justice-seeking impulse of Exodus to all who share the land. Our task, like Moses's, is to lead with responsibility, to listen with empathy, and to continuously strive for a future where the "holy ground" of our shared home can truly be a place of justice, dignity, and flourishing for all its inhabitants. This is the ongoing work of a people called to purpose.

Citations

• Exodus 3: https://www.sefaria.org/Exodus.3?lang=en
• Ibn Ezra on Exodus 3:1:1: https://www.sefaria.org/Ibn_Ezra_on_Exodus.3.1.1.1?lang=en
• Rashbam on Exodus 3:1:1: https://www.sefaria.org/Rashbam_on_Exodus.3.1.1.1?lang=en
• Kli Yakar on Exodus 3:1:1: https://www.sefaria.org/Kli_Yakar_on_Exodus.3.1.1.1?lang=he
• Sforno on Exodus 3:1:1: https://www.sefaria.org/Sforno_on_Exodus.3.1.1.1?lang=en
• Or HaChaim on Exodus 3:1:1: https://www.sefaria.org/Or_HaChaim_on_Exodus.3.1.1.1?lang=en
• Haamek Davar on Exodus 3:1:1: https://www.sefaria.org/Haamek_Davar_on_Exodus.3.1.1.1?lang=he
• Haamek Davar on Exodus 3:1:2: https://www.sefaria.org/Haamek_Davar_on_Exodus.3.1.2.1?lang=he
• Shadal on Exodus 3:1:1: https://www.sefaria.org/Shadal_on_Exodus.3.1.1.1?lang=he