The Blemished are Better Role Models (Emor 5776)

For any man in whom there is a blemish shall not approach: a man who is blind or lame or whose nose has no bridge, or who has one limb longer than the other; or in whom there will be a broken leg or a broken arm… (Artscroll translation of Vayikra 21:18-19)

Strangely, the Torah prohibits kohanim exhibiting certain physical defects from serving in the Beit haMikdash. Excluding a physically marred priest was not unusual for the ancient Near East (This Abled Body, pg. 26), but it seems inconsistent with the Torah’s broad messages regarding the relative unimportance of physical perfection.

Our greatest prophet, Moshe, the source of our Torah and the closest “confidante” of G-d, identified himself as having a speech defect, and G-d did not choose to heal him. (Shemot 4; although note that Sanhedrin 36b indicates that Moshe was not a baal mum, strictly speaking) When the prophet Shemuel was sent to select a king, and he was impressed by a candidate’s physical form, G-d rebuked him, “Human beings see with their eyes, but G-d sees the heart.” (Shemuel I 16:7) The Talmud records a story of a man who was insulted as ugly, and it approves of his response, “Go tell the Craftsman who made me.” (Taanit 20b) Torah and tradition render absurd the idea that there is any inferiority in, or any Divine rejection of, a human being whose form is damaged or incomplete.

Further: the demand for physical perfection hardly guaranteed a proper priesthood. The ranks of “unblemished” priests included Chofni and Pinchas, who abused their power in control of the Mishkan; the high priest Evyatar supported Adoniyahu’s coup; the descendants of the priestly Chashmonaim abused their power and fell in with the Greeks; and the heretical Sadducees claimed lineage from the high priest Tzaddok. We must also realize that exclusion of people with physical challenges runs counter to the respectful and protective approach to the vulnerable trumpeted throughout the Torah. How could the Torah, which inveighs incessantly against abuse of the weak, perpetuate a stigma regarding people who are blind, lame, or suffer broken limbs?

One explanation is that the Torah is concerned about popular perception of the Beit haMikdash and its service. As Sefer haChinuch (275) suggests, “if [the priest] is of deficient form and unusual limbs, then even if he is righteous in his ways, his deeds will still not be found as positive in the eyes of his beholders.” This rationale is difficult, though; in other areas of religious practice the Torah harshly condemns weaknesses of the human psyche, including hedonism and miserliness. Imagine the lesson had the Torah explicitly required the inclusion of priests who exhibited physical defects!

We might understand the exclusion of the challenged kohen by recognizing that physical defects are acceptable for kings, sages, prophets and judges. [A judge on the Sanhedrin must have no physical defect, per Hilchot Sanhedrin 2:6, but Lechem Mishneh says this is only for the highest court. Regarding a king, I should note Shevet haLevi 8:251:3.] In every arena of Jewish life, public and private, we promote respect for every individual, regardless of physical challenges; only regarding the kohen is the law different. Perhaps this is because the kohen who serves in the Beit haMikdash is not viewed as a human being at all; rather, the kohen is a representative of G-d. [See Yoma 19a and Kiddushin 23b.] Indeed, the prophet Malachi identifies the kohen as an angel of G-d. (Malachi 2:7) In G-d, there is no defect.

Life offers two categories of success: the easy victory, and the triumph over adversity. For human beings, the latter may be the greater achievement; as Pirkei Avot 5:23 says, “The reward is commensurate with the pain endured.” Therefore, our role models – king, sage, prophet and judge – include human beings who struggle with, and overcome, physical obstacles. The kohen, though, represents G-d, for whom there is neither obstacle nor struggle, and in whom no defect can be perceived. The Divine agent, like his Master, must represent success without challenge.

The unblemished kohen, inhabiting the Beit haMikdash of G-d, is not a role model for us. We are all incomplete and challenged in some way, and therefore our ideal role models are other challenged human beings. We would be criminally foolish if we failed to value the role model in every human being, recognizing the unique personalities, talents and contributions of people who triumph over all manner of adversity.

When we gaze upon the representatives of G-d, let us see a world in which success comes easily. But when we ask ourselves whom we wish to become, let us look upon the “blind or lame”, the one with the broken leg or broken arm, the Moshe. These are our heroes, and from them we will learn success.

[For other ideas regarding the exclusion of priests with physical blemishes, see Toronto Torah 4:29 and 6:31.]

Moshe the Superhero (Vaera 5775)

Long-time readers of this blog (=those who remember the days when I would post three times per week) know that I am unable to get Moshe Rabbeinu out of my mind. I've written a lot about Moshe, from various perspectives. But this week I had a new thought - new for me, at any rate - which I have turned into a derashah/parshah article for Toronto Torah. I'd love your thoughts:

In 1951, a lawsuit by Detective Comics against Fawcett Publications, over copyright infringement with its Captain Marvel character, reached the United States Court of Appeals, Second Circuit. In its decision, the court defined a superhero as having three key elements: Mission, Powers and Identity.

By this set of criteria, Moshe Rabbeinu was a superhero. His mission was to bring the Jews out of Egypt, to Sinai, and to their land. Moshe was given miraculous powers. And even without a codename and costume, Moshe did maintain a superhero’s secret identity, as seen in Parshat Vaera.

The secret identity

Scholars of comic books discuss the purpose of secret identities. Beyond protecting loved ones from harm, the secret identity is a tool:

· It is a mask, affording the hero a respite from being heroic;

· It is a divider, allowing her to develop multiple sides of herself independently;

· It is a shield, enabling her to avoid persecution for being different.

However, Danny Fingeroth, author of Disguised as Clark Kent: Jews, Comics, and the Creation of the Superhero, suggests that the secret identity may be the hero’s true nature. Isolating a part of himself from conflict, heroics and the public eye, keeps the hero’s personal character pure.

This privacy, which Michah 6:8 would name tzniut, may be at the heart of the second account of Moshe’s development, in Parshat Vaera.

Moshe 1.0 – Shemot 2:1-6:13

An anonymous Levite man and woman conceive a child. When the child is too old to remain hidden from the Egyptians, his mother puts him in a basket in a river, while his anonymous sister stands guard. The Pharaoh’s anonymous daughter saves the baby, and names him Moshe.

The baby is raised in the palace. One day, he intervenes to save an anonymous Jew from an equally anonymous Egyptian, killing the latter. On the following day he disrupts a fight between two anonymous Jews, but his identity as the killer of the Egyptian becomes known. Moshe flees to Midian, where he is identified as “an Egyptian.”

Decades later, Moshe encounters G-d at the Burning Bush, and G-d charges him to take the Jews out of Egypt. Despite his repeated refusals, Moshe goes to Pharaoh, armed with miracles and accompanied by his brother and prophet, Aharon. Pharaoh reacts with increased brutality to the Jews, and Moshe protests to G-d.

Moshe 2.0 – Shemot 6:14-7:13

Yaakov’s eldest son, Reuven, produced four sons, whom we name. We then name Shimon’s six sons. We then detail Levi’s sons and their families, ultimately yielding Moshe and his extended family.

G-d picks Moshe to take the Jews out of Egypt, and he refuses. G-d assigns Aharon to be his prophet, and empowers the pair to perform miracles to impress Pharaoh. They visit Pharaoh and perform the miracles, and Pharaoh rejects Moshe’s message.

The lesson of the two accounts

Perhaps the first account is Moshe’s public face, the heroic story which the Jews and Egyptians will know. This is the Moshe who will lead the Jews through religious ecstasy and distance from G-d, who will inspire them to brave hunger and war and fear and mutiny and Divine threats of eradication. He is larger than life, framed by miracles and heroism. And in this story, the other figures have no names; they are just part of the Moshe Story.

The second account is of a Jewish boy with a family that includes many people we will meet later in the Torah – Elazar, Korach, Nadav, Avihu, Eltzafan, Pinchas, etc. The legendary events of Moshe’s youth are played down; the story dedicates its space to the names of Moshe’s family, the people who raised him and surrounded him. Moshe is a human being, and even his conversation with G-d is humble and stripped of drama.

This second account is Moshe’s secret identity, which the world will not see. This is Moshe’s private life; it is tzanua, stored away to preserve the purity of Moshe’s roots and his character, untouched by the violence and conflict that absorb his public life. Unlike his identity as the killer of the Egyptian assailant, this identity will be kept private.

There are other ways to explain the two biblical accounts of Moshe’s origin, but I believe this lesson should carry special power in our day. Our world exposes our identities, on-line and off-line, at work and in shul and in school. Our most popular modes of on-line entertainment demand that we log in and share our names and identities, often with others we have never met in person. Perhaps it would be wise for us to ask ourselves: Can we keep something back? Do we have something tzanua, a secret identity that the world cannot touch and abrade and change? Should we?

How a mikvah scandal could happen: a thought

I hope you enjoyed your Yom Tov. For me - right before Simchat Torah, I found out about the mikvah scandal in Washington DC. That pretty much killed it for me.

In brief, for those who don't know: a veteran "Modern Orthodox" synagogue rabbi is accused of placing a hidden camera in his synagogue's mikvah, and committing related obscene abuses of his position. I spent Simchat Torah reeling at the multifarious horrific ramifications. [I omit his name not to protect him, but because seeing it makes me ill. If you need to know more, feel free to use Google.]

I can't understand this; I find this base betrayal of a community by its 25-year leader as incomprehensible as it is revolting. But I will venture the following thought, without claiming to mind-read the villain in this particular scandal: this sort of crime is enabled when people allow themselves to see others not as human beings, with feelings and emotions, but as objects which happen to populate their world. Ignoring people's feelings allows someone to say, "They won't find out, so where's the harm?"

Our weekly Torah portion, telling the story of the biblical Flood, speaks strongly against this objectification:

• First, Bereishit 6:2 says G-d decided to destroy the world when powerful men "saw that the daughters were good, and took women from any they chose." The women were merely objects.
• Second, this may be why G-d chooses to place all of the animals in the direct care of Noach's family for a year, rather than take care of them miraculously. Caring for others, immersing themselves in anticipating and meeting their needs, trains Noach's family to see others as feeling creatures.
• And third, after the Flood, when Noach's son Cham displays no empathy in humiliating his intoxicated father (Bereishit 9), he is cursed for his insensitivity.

At the other end of the spectrum, one of the Torah's chief paragons of empathy is Moshe Rabbeinu. As a teenager, Moshe endangers his own life to save a Jew who is being beaten – and when he flees the country and arrives, friendless and impoverished in a new place, his very first act is to endanger himself to save Midianite women from harassment at a well. Moshe is worthy to give us the Torah, to be the first Rabbi – the empath who sees kinsmen and strangers, Jewish and non-Jewish, as human beings deserving of selfless friendship and protection.

May we eradicate the objectification of human beings that enables abuse. May we emulate Moshe's activist empathy. And may we teach our children this empathy, making ourselves worthy of the Torah that Moshe brought us, with which we danced last week, on Simchat Torah.

7 Adar, once again

And here we are again at the 7th of Adar, Moshe Rabbeinu's birthday and yahrtzeit. Like every year, I found myself thinking a lot about Moshe in the leadup to this day.

I've thought about Moshe in different ways over the years (see here and here and here, for example), but here's a new angle, tied to Herman Wouk's The Caine Mutiny. When, at the end of the book, Willie Keith assumes command of the Caine, Wouk describes it thus:

Even at anchor, on an idle, forgotten old ship, Willie experienced the strange sensations of the first days of a new captain: a shrinking of his personal identity, and a stretching out of his nerve ends to all the spaces and machinery of his ship. He was less free than before. He developed the apprehensive listening ears of a young mother; the ears listened on in his sleep; he never quite slept, not the way he had before. He had the sense of having been reduced from an individual to a sort of brain of a composite animal, the crew and ship combined. (pg. 520, 2003 paperback edition)

The description resonates, from my shul rabbi days. Back then, I lived as part of the community, feeling that kind of responsibility for each individual, each family, each of the community's institutions. [It is, probably, the element of the rabbinate I miss most; as I have said on other occasions, leaving the shul rabbinate narrowed me as a person, painfully. But I digress.]

In thinking about Wouk's words, I wonder what it was like for Moshe when he took command of the Jewish people. Not when he first approached Pharaoh in Egypt, when the Jews' day-to-day existence was governed by Egyptian society. Not when he summoned the plagues, when the Jews still received food and water via Egyptian mechanisms, living in Egyptian homes, using Egyptian public facilities. But when the Jews finally broke away from the Egyptian infrastructure, and Moshe became fully responsible for their well-being. What was that like?

It occurs to me that Moshe's initial moments of solo leadership came when the Jews made their three-day journey to the Sea, and his first crisis was when they found the Sea in their way, and the Egyptians coming up behind them. This was the moment when Moshe became the leader of the Jews.

At that juncture (Shemot 14:15), HaShem turned to Moshe and said, "מה תצעק אלי? Why call out to Me?" And, of course, we wonder: The text does not mention Moshe calling out to Gd; only the people called out to Gd. Why does Gd address this to Moshe?

I've addressed this problem before (here, for example), but here is a new thought: Perhaps Moshe did not call out, but Moshe did as he had always done before – he waited for Gd to lead. Gd was the commanding officer, and Moshe was the exec who would carry out the Divine order. And so HaShem said to Moshe, "Why are you waiting for Me? It's your ship now, you are the commander. Time for you to take charge."

In which case the next words that Gd speaks, "Speak to the Children of Israel, and they will travel," are not so much a command, as a laying out of the facts: When you tell them, the Jews will travel. You are now in charge."

What did that moment feel like for Moshe? How frightening was it, even with Divine miracles, to become the human being upon whom millions relied? How broadening, how enervating, how invigorating, how terrifying, how empowering and how crushing... How large and how small do you feel, Moshe, standing between the Sea and such an overwhelmingly large mass of needy human beings? Twelve tribes of people who were third-generation slaves but who yet retained a memory of their saintly ancestors, Avraham and Sarah? People who had suffered bitterly, who had been whipped and tortured and murdered? What is the experience of connecting to all of those people, at once?

Did you know beforehand that this was coming, that there would be a moment when you would be handed the keys and told to drive the bus? And once it did happen, how did you not feel overwhelmed by the sheer numbers, and by the needs that persist even in a world where bread comes from the skies and water from a stone?

Did it become easier when you added elders, or did that just add another layer of responsibility? Or did it all become "normal" at some point? Did that "normal" perhaps become shaken when you faced leadership crises, as in Korach's rebellion?

Are all of these questions meaningless, when you had Gd with you? Or did the Eye looking over your shoulder make the challenge even greater?

So many questions; Moshe remains unfathomable to me.

יהי זכרו ברוך.

The Noble National Endeavor (Derashah, Vayyakhel-Pekudei 5773)

Here is the derashah I plan to deliver this Shabbos; if you have any he'arot, please send them before Shabbos!

Few people in Tanach are more isolated than Moshe:

• In his youth, Moshe dwells in Pharaoh's palace.
• As an adolescent, Moshe is forced to flee to Midian – where he marries Tzipporah, a woman from a pariah family.
• Moshe returns from Midian to a nation that possesses neither the strength nor the patience for his religious mission; they wished he would return to Midian and leave them in their slavery.

Perhaps the presentation of the Torah gave Moshe his long-awaited chance to join the nation, to be a teacher and grow to know his people – but then Moshe descends from Har Sinai and discovers the Golden Calf, and he becomes an outsider yet again:

• He is a wrathful judge, ordering the execution of thousands of people who had worshipped the Calf.
• He is a spiritual outsider, a pious third party pleading with G-d on behalf of the sinful Jews.
• He is a physical outsider, moving his tent beyond the tribal perimeter, a leper of sorts.
• He is distanced from his students, wearing a veil to obscure his radiance when teaching them.
• He is even distanced from family; as the midrash explains, he separates from his wife, Tzipporah.

Moshe is the Loneliest Man of Faith, and in this light, his actions in the following midrash make sense:

After listing the items created for the Mishkan, the Torah tells us “הוקם המשכן,” the Mishkan was raised. But then, in the very next sentence, the Torah says, “ויקם משה את המשכן,” “And Moshe raised the Mishkan.” Why does the Torah mention the act of construction twice, but include Moshe only in the second assembly? Our midrash[1] explains:

היה משה מיצר על שלא נשתתף הוא עמהן במלאכת המשכן... ולפי שהיה משה מיצר העלים הקב"ה מהם ולא היו יכולין להעמידו... עד שאמר לו הקב"ה למשה לפי שהיית מיצר שלא היה לך עשייה ולא חלק במלאכת המשכן לפיכך לא יכלו אותן חכמים להעמידו בשבילך

Moshe was upset that he had not personally taken part in actually building the Mishkan… Because Moshe was upset, Gd hid information from the people and they could not make the Mishkan stand… until Gd told Moshe, "Because you were upset about not having an active role in the work of the mishkan, therefore, those craftsmen could not assemble it in your place."

Like Yonah camped outside of Nineveh, like Eliyahu living in the wilderness, Moshe had been excluded from the people he had led out of Egypt and had saved from Divine wrath. Perhaps Moshe now wishes to re-join the nation, via the symbolic act of participating in the construction of the Mishkan.

However, this midrash requires deeper examination, for that cannot be the whole picture of Moshe's intent.

The midrashic image of Gd watching the Jews blunder about clumsily like the Three Stooges, putting up walls and having them collapse, is amusing (if theologically disturbing). But the idea that spiritual Moshe, who just spent many weeks atop Sinai without eating or drinking, now wanted to engage in physical construction, is intriguing. Is he a forerunner of A.D. Gordon and Labour Zionism, insisting upon working with his hands? If not, why is this, the act of building the mishkan, the moment that Moshe seizes to re-join the community?

Let's make the question stronger – Why does Gd permit Moshe to join the Jews who had worshipped the Calf?

• Moshe is meant to be apart, veiled, separate even from his wife!
• Recall that G-d did not speak to Avraham as long as he lived with Lot,[2] or to Moshe as long as he was in idolatrous Egypt[3] - why would Gd now want him to be with idolaters?

Why does Moshe belong at the site of the Mishkan, at all?

The answer may lie in the two Ohel Moed structures the Jews had in the wilderness.

The first אהל מועד was Moshe's tent, and it was for כל מבקש ד', for any individual who sought to meet Gd. After the sin of the Golden Calf, as we read last week, Moshe moved that tent outside of the camp.[4]

With the construction of the Mishkan, though, there was a second, communal אוהל מועד. As described in our parshah,[5] the new tent of meeting with Gd was part of the mishkan – in the middle of the camp.

The private ohel moed, for individuals, was moved outside the camp; individuals, even Moshe, were unworthy of connecting with Gd in the domain of those who had worshipped the Calf. This Divine denial of entry was the fate of Avraham with Lot, and of Moshe in Egyot. However, the community as a whole could greet Gd in the public ohel moed, the Mishkan, even within the camp. טומאה הותרה בציבור, a community approaches Gd with a power far beyond that of the lone Jew, overriding the impurity of their recent idolatry. The moment when a nation approaches Gd, rising from the ashes of its failings to soar toward its spiritual destiny, has a power which no past calamity could undermine.

This image of the Mishkan as a site in which the community of stumbling Man could meet with sacred G-d, in which holiness could be present despite the coarseness of sin, is seen in a nuance of the law of shaatnez. As Jews, we are prohibited from wearing shaatnez, garments which mix wool and linen. Traditionally, we have considered this law a rule above rational explanation, but Rabbi Eliezer of Worms, the 13^th century author of the Rokeiach, suggested in a mystical vein that wool represents the purity of the heavenly domain, and linen represents the coarseness of the earthly domain.[6] Normally, we recognize a distance between those two realms – but wool and linen meet in the אבנט, the belt worn by the kohen when working in the Mishkan and Beis haMikdash.

Moshe understood that in the Mishkan a community could bond with Gd despite their flaws and errors. Beyond wanting to simply "fit in", Moshe longed to participate in this process. To Moshe, the Mishkan presented an opportunity to join with the nation in their pursuit of national atonement, an auspicious venue in which to bend the curve of heaven a bit closer to earth and elevate the human being to the limits of his plane; this warranted cooperation with a nation that had violated its covenant with G-d mere months earlier.

The mishkan unites Jews of every level, from the purity of the heavens to the coarseness of the earth. This is where Moshe wanted  to be – not off in his tent, secluded with Gd, but part of the noble, national Jewish experience, building a home for Gd on Earth. Moshe was pained by the thought that he might be excluded from this venture.

We wear Moshe's shoes; Jews who observe halachah are compelled to stand apart from the rest of the Jewish community in so many ways. We eat in kosher restaurants and kosher homes. Our Friday night is dedicated to celebrating Shabbos. We dance differently, we sing differently, we learn differently.

At the same time, we dare not become Yonah balefully glaring at Nineveh from the distance of his hut, or Eliyahu off in the wilderness complaining to Gd of the sins of the nation. Rather, we are summoned, it is our destiny, to be like the אבנט of the kohen, to work as Moshe did, to find ways to be משתתף, to partner with, the world around us, when they unite as a community in service of Gd. To make our shul part of a Federation, a JCC, a Jewish Family Service, a Limmud. Not because this will win us adherents, but because we see our shul, our mishkan, as a place to bring stumbling man closer to sacred Gd, together.

I happen to believe in A.D. Gordon's Labour Zionism; physical work does have a redemptive character – and especially in building up our homeland. But Moshe's message here is not about the physical act of putting up a building. And Moshe is not only trying to defeat the isolation he had experienced for much of his life. Rather, Moshe is articulating a message of sublime beauty: Stand apart as you must - but in the mishkan, stand together, contribute to that noble, national enterprise.

In last week’s parshah, after the חטא העגל, HaShem performed the ultimate act of separating Moshe from the rest of the nation: Gd declared, “I shall destroy the rest of them, and inaugurate a new nation with you.” This is it, Moshe – you are going to be the new Avraham, and your descendants will begin again.

Moshe dramatically rejected this Divine offer, standing his ground and insisting that his fate would lie with the nation.
Moshe saw his spiritual identity intertwined with that of his people, his spiritual home located in the Mishkan that played host to the entire population. May we, in our own mishkan, remain committed to do the same.

---

[1] Tanchuma Pekudei 11 (Warsaw)

[2] Rashi Bereishis 13:14

[3] Shemos Rabbah 18:1

[4] Shemot 33:7

[5] Such as Shemos 40:35

[6] Peirush haRokeiach al haTorah

7 Adar

I wanted to write something new for 7 Adar this year, but I didn't come up with anything I felt worthy. So I'm posting the piece below, from several years ago.

What Soren Kierkegaard did for Avraham’s faith in Fear and Trembling, someone with an equally eloquent pen ought to do for Moshe’s defiance.

Kierkegaard wrote, with moving, powerful, dramatic beauty, of Avraham’s Akeidah, his decision to follow Gd and bring his son Yitzchak as a korban. He decried those who would infantilize Avraham’s obedience to Gd, who would view it with “the child’s pious simplicity.” He demonstrated, vividly, that this Akeidah was not an act of simple faith, but, rather, a soul-wrenching, terrifying, faithful devotion to a shockingly cruel Divine demand.

Someone ought to do the same for Moshe Rabbeinu’s multiple defiances of Gd, celestial acts which are yet fodder for so many aggravatingly simplistic divrei torah.

Like every 7th of Adar, as I observe Moshe Rabbeinu’s yahrtzeit this year I am awed by a new aspect of that human being whose life, whose power, overwhelms anything I can fathom. This year, it’s his defiance.

Moshe defies Gd multiple times, in multiple scenarios, including:
Gd orders Moshe to return to Egypt and save the Jews; Moshe declines.

Gd instructs Moshe to give the Jews the Torah on the 6th of Sivan; per the gemara, Moshe alters the date to the 7th of Sivan. (Granted that commentators see this as reading the mind of Gd.)

Gd declares His desire to destroy the idolatrous, rebellious nation; Moshe denies Gd the opportunity.

Gd informs Moshe that he will die; Moshe instructs Gd in choosing a new leader.

Gd instructs Moshe to remain in the desert; Moshe rails against his fate, before finding acceptance.

And yet, through it all, Gd describes Moshe as בכל ביתי נאמן הוא, the most loyal member of the Divine house. ככל אשר צוה ה' את משה, Following every word Gd instructed Moshe, so Moshe spoke and so Moshe did.

The more I contemplate it, the less I comprehend it.

Or to borrow from Kierkegaard regarding the Akeidah, “The older he became the more often his thoughts turned to that tale, his enthusiasm became stronger and stronger, and yet less and less could he understand it.”

Tanach is filled with people who refuse Divine instructions. Pharaoh. Bilam. And, on the good side, Yonah. What marks Moshe’s refusal as unique (although Yonah’s resembles this) is that his is not denial, it is defiance.

Pharaoh says, “Who is Gd, that I should listen?” Bilaam says, “Gd will have to follow my will.”

Moshe, on the other hand, accepts the reality of Gd fully, accepts the Torah of Gd fully, accepts the service of Gd fully. Moshe believes in Gd, he does not deny Gd’s existence or authority.

It seems to me that Moshe’s awareness of Gd is what fuels his defiance. He is Gd’s child. His refusal is born out of love for Gd, in the way that adult children often absorb and practice their parents’ values, and yet – in fulfilling their understanding of those same values – defy their parents’ instructions.

And so Avraham is labelled by Gd, אברהם אוהבי, “Avraham who loved Me,” but Moshe is labelled בן ביתי, “a member of My household,” the one whom I loved.

I never cease to be enthralled by Moshe. He is so far beyond anything I could ever become, and yet his story speaks volumes to me as a person, as a rabbi, as a Jew. His is iconic leadership and iconic abandonment, iconic selflessness and iconic self-awareness, iconic devotion and iconic defiance, iconic failure and iconic success.

יהי זכרו ברוך.

Why are we here? An answer from Rav Kook

The other day I came across a poem written by a young Rav Avraham Yitzchak Kook, imagining Moshe's address to Pharaoh, requesting the release of the Jews. He builds the case on the beauty of the soul, its elevated purpose, and the immorality of imprisoning that soul in a debased world. Of course, Rav Kook is not speaking to Pharaoh, but to us...

It was so beautiful I had to translate it; here is my English, followed by the Hebrew:


Moshe's declaration to Pharaoh, proposing that he release Israel

You know, mighty king,
why this Man was created –
not to resemble beasts of the forest,
not to rise early to hunt,
as well, not for vapid frivolity,
but only to establish the world with justice,
to stand upon generosity,
to act honestly, righteously,
to educate his spirit with knowledge of Gd.

This is his mission upon earth,
to elevate his heart with knowledge, comprehension and skill.

For surely the wise artisan would not put for naught
glorious power in the soul of Man,
her hand mighty, elevated to heights,
who will not cry "Enough" as she amasses knowledge of
heights of the heavens, sacred seraphs,
radiant luminaries and shining spheres,
creatures of earth and residents of the lower realms,
Man's spirit would not be sated
were he turn his heart to understand,
but he would yet increase and raise his wings,
to the Power above all powers he would speak wonders,
and his spirit would hasten to the light of the life of truth,
he would yearn and long to fly as do the sons of the flame,
to stand among the hosts of heaven,
to contemplate, to investigate their secrets,
to pleasure in the Creator of all,
to be filled with the radiance of the beauty of His desire,
the celestial beauty which eternally endures,
even to infinity its light will not dim.

It is not for naught that we envision in ourselves
a beautiful treasure, a fount of our strength,
but to give to this its due,
to afford it a broad space in which to dwell,
to increase its activities in the rooms of the heart,
until it should reach the boundary set by Gd,
for the celestial daughter to be imprisoned in her jail,
then he will begin to live the season of life,
life of truth, life that is new,
his eyes will be illuminated and filled with joy,
from the glory of the beauty of an awesome, mighty honour,
which his spirit knows not how to gauge
while she yet dwells in this lowly realm.

This is the ambition of the length of a man's days.

But to the sorrow of a heart that loves righteousness,
we do not envision this in the great multitudes;
only in darkness do the sons of Man walk.

Here, look now in the breadth of your empire,
contemplate, investigate the deeds of your nation,
if not corruption and perversity and wicked foolishness,
selling themselves for evil and all revulsion of the spirit,
for every task that is degraded and shameful for a man,
even to crime does he send forth a hand,
to strike at nobles for their righteousness,
the light of the nation's knowledge is extinguished,
and the radiance of the celestial soul is dimmed,
in knowledge they are no greater than beasts of the field,
and in wicked deeds they are still more corrupt.

You are master to your nation, can you
bear to envision this,
the celestial portion entering decay,
the spirit of Man cast after the body,
the cheating of the weak in the land,
robbery of justice at every pass and turn,
thoughts of empty vapour and wandering,
emptiness and deception,
distancing every sacred idea from themselves,
toward every sacred preserve
they cannot gaze.

מאמר משה אל פרעה להציע לפניו שישלח את ישראל

הלא תדע מלך אדיר
האדם הלז למה נוצר
לא להדמות לחיתו יער
לא לשחר לטרף
אף לא לשעשועי הבל
רק לכונן במשפט תבל
לקום על נדיבות
לפעול אמת וצדק
לחכם נפשו בדעת אלקים

זאת היא עלי ארץ תעודתו
כי יגבה לבו בחכמה בדעת ובכשרון

כי הלא לא לתהו יתן אמן חכם
כח נהדר בנשמת אנוש
גברה ידה אל על התנשא
לא תאמר הון אם תצבור דעת
גבהי שחקים ושרפי קדש
מאורי אור וגלגלי נגה
יצורי תבל וכל דרי מטה
לא תשבע נפש האדם
אם שם לב להשכיל
אך עוד יוסיף ישא אבר
עד א-ל אלים ידבר נפלאות
ונפשו תחוש אור חיי אמת
תכסף ותחשוק לעוף כבני רשף
לעמוד בצבאי מרום
להתבונן עדי חקר סודם
על יוצר כל להתענג
ולשבע זיו מנועם רצונו
נועם עליון הקם נצח
לא יועם אורו באין קץ

לא לחנם נחזה בנו
אוצר נחמד מרים לנו קרן
אך לתת לו חקו
לתן יד לו במרחב לשבת
להשגיא פעלו בבתי לבב
עדי יגיע אלי גבול שם אלוק
להאסר בת מרום בבית כלאה
אז יחל חיות תקופת חיים
חיי אמת חיים חדשים
תאורנה עיניו ותשבענה גיל
מהוד הדרת כבוד נורא עז
לא ידעה נפשו לא תוכל שערהו
בעוד שבתה הנה פה בשפל

זאת מטרת ארך ימי גבר

אבל לדאבון לב אוהב צדק
לא כן נחזה בהמון רבה
אך בחשכה בני איש יתהלכו

הן הבט נא במרחבי מלכותך
התבונן על חקר עלילות עמך
אם לא עשק ונלוז ורשע כסל
התמכר לרע וכל געל נפש
לכל מלאכה נמבזה וחרפה לגבר
גם בעולתה ישלחו יד
עלי יושר להכות נדיבים
כבה אור מדע עם
וזהר נשמת מרומים הועם
לדעת לא גברו מבהמות שדי
ובפעל רשע מהם העמיקו שחת

ואתה אדון לעמך הזאת
תוכל חזות
נחלת מרומים כי תלך תמס
נפש האדם כי אחרי גו תושלך
עשק רש במדינה
גזל משפט בכל עבר ופנה
מחשבות הבל ותעתועים
שוא ודבר מרמה
כל רעיון קדוש רחק מהם
אל כל נאוה בקדש
לא הבט יוכלו

Rabbinic Leadership

I first put this on paper five years ago, when I was in the shul rabbinate. I still believe it.

To me, the guts of rabbinic leadership is in Moshe’s challenge to G-d in Parshas B’haaloscha. Moshe asks: Did I conceive this nation, or did I birth it, that You tell me, ‘Carry him in your bosom, like a nurse carries a nursling, to the land I swore to give his ancestors’?

That’s rabbinic leadership in a nutshell, as Moshe understood it. Although Moshe wasn’t happy about it in Parshas Behaaloscha (and I imagine he couldn’t have been much happier in Sh’lach to hear that his tour of duty was extended from eighteen months to forty years!), he knew this was his task.

Curious Jew’s quote from Rav Soloveitchik, who was himself citing Rav Chaim Soloveitchik, says it all: “However, the main role of the rabbi is to help the needy, protect the persecuted, defend the widows, and sustain orphans. In a word, it is acts of loving-kindness [gemilat hasadim]. (The World of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, 193)”

This is not meant to infantilize the congregant; rather, it is meant to maternalize the rabbi.

This type of care is leadership, because it enables the rabbi to lead. Per Dale Carnegie’s “How to win friends and influence people,” the rabbi who shows people that he cares about them is the rabbi who will be able to lead them and help them grow.

This, then, is the rabbi’s job description: To care for each individual, and thereby lead the community. Examples:

In many communities, there are people who can give deeper or clearer shiurim than the rabbi - but will they give those shiurim daily? And will they offer more shiurim when people need more? And will they offer shiurim in varied topics, as people need? And will they arrange chavrusas for people? And will they go after people who are not learning, to find ways to match them up with learning opportunities?

In many communities, there are social workers and counselors who can take care of social services and counsel those in need - but will they seek out the welfare of every individual in the community, the sick, those with sick relatives, the needy, those with needy relatives, the bereaved, the depressed, and so on? Will they dedicate time from their schedules to call people and check in and make sure everything is all right?

In many communities, there are gabbaim and askanim who will make sure davening runs smoothly and distribute leining responsibilities - but will they go out of their way to convince people to come to minyan, not for the sake of the minyan but for the sake of those people’s personal development? Will they dedicate time to teaching new baalei tefillah and new baalei keriah? Will they sit down with people to explain how to put on tefillin, and perhaps encourage them to acquire tefillin in the first place?

And so on and so forth. The rabbi’s job is to help a woman get her husband’s pension. The rabbi’s job is to convince people to “go kosher” and to kasher their kitchen himself. The rabbi’s job is to encourage people to come learn parshah for an hour a week. The rabbi’s job is to arrange a loan so that someone can cover his son’s bail.

Why is this the rabbi’s job? Because, as Moshe explained, his job is to carry the nation as though each individual was his own son or daughter.

Again: This is not meant to infantilize the congregant; rather, it is meant to maternalize the rabbi. A particular congregant may not need anything at all - but the rabbi had better continue to look after that congregant, in case the day comes when the congregant does have a need.