Showing posts with label Moshe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Moshe. Show all posts

Monday, September 16, 2013

Parshas Vezos HaBracha - a thought on the last Rashi in the Torah


“And there has never arisen a prophet in Israel like Moshe, whom God knew face to face. For all the signs and wonders that God sent him to perform in the land of Egypt, to Pharoah and to all his servants and to his entire land. And for all the strong hand and for the entire great display that Moshe performed in view of all of Israel.”
~ Devarim 34:10-12

In view of all of Israel. When he [Moshe] took the liberty of shattering the tablets before their eyes, as it is said “I shattered them before their eyes.” [Sifre, referencing Shemos 34:1]. The Holy One, Blessed is He, consented to his opinion as it is said “which you shattered” – [as if to say] “More power to you for shattering them!”
~ Rashi on Devarim 34:12

What are we to make of Rashi’s last note, on the last clause of the Torah, which appears to commend Moshe for shattering the two tablets God gave when he saw the golden calf? What is Rashi’s parting thought teaching us?

Perhaps it is this. There are times when each of us sets out to do a ‘great thing.’ We have only noble intentions, invest a lot of time in the effort, and the initial signs are very favorable. We continue on our mission and after many days and much investment, we turn around to discover that the conditions are not at all right for our project. If we try to advance our project, it may do more harm than good.

What do we do? Do we ignore reality and forge ahead anyway? We learn from Moshe, our greatest teacher, in the midst of one of his greatest projects, that as frustrating as it may be, sometimes you have to be prepared to shatter the tablets and start again.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Parshas HaAzinu - It's not about you


In the penultimate portion of the Torah, Moshe breaks out into song. On the command of God Moshe introduces to the Children of Israel a narrative that both summarizes their travels to date and offers dour predictions of future national sins and subsequent travails, as well as eventual redemption, a narrative which he terms a “Shirah” or song (Devarim 31:30, 32:44). 

Nechama Lebowitz observes that, in one of the passages that Moshe sings, he relates God’s thinking as He speculates about destroying the Jewish people entirely in retribution for their sins: “I thought I would make an end of them, I would make their memory cease from among men” (32:26). One thing effectively discourages God from this course of action. Is it the merit of our forefathers? Is it our past virtues or future potential as bearers of His covenant? None of these suffice. Instead, God muses: (I would destroy them) “Were it not that I dreaded the enemy’s provocation, lest their adversaries should misjudge; Lest they should say ‘Our hand is exalted and not the Lord hath performed all this.” (32:27).

In the final analysis, God saves us only because it would be a dishonor to His name not to do so.  As Nechama Lebowitz notes, this was the same rationale that saved the Jewish people from utter destruction after the sin of the golden calf (Shemos 32:12) and the sin of the spies (Bamidbar 14:15-16).

As we have traveled the long path of prayer this High Holy days season, we have cited many reasons why God should look past our grievous errors, forgive us, and grant us long lives. We talked about the righteousness of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; we cited the glory of Jerusalem, now debased; we abjectly confessed our sins and recounted our suffering; and we made vows to act with more awareness of God in the future. All this was good and constructive. Then along comes Parshas HaAzinu, on the Shabbos right after Yom Kippur, to tell us that while our Teshuva (repentance) is indeed worthwhile, we must keep in mind that God preserves us simply because we are his best chance for bringing glory to His name. It is a sobering and humbling message yet it is one that may help us from getting too complacent as we step away from the discipline and devotion of the holy day prayers and practices. 

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Parshas VaYeilech - Advice to the next in line


What would you tell your successor in the work place, if you had a chance? I’d surmise that, for most people, this question is one they don’t often get to consider. The nature of job transitions is that whether due to retirement, taking a better position, or (God forbid) an unwelcome severing of connections, often we do not get to meet the person who takes our place. But if we were perchance granted some overlapping time, what would be the first item of advice you’d offer?

Moshe is given such an opportunity, towards the end of the Book of Devarim. Earlier, God informed Moshe (3:28) that his attendant Joshua would take over as leader of the Jewish people when Moshe’s term concluded. As Moshe nears the end of his farewell address to the Jewish people, he summons Joshua and publicly offers him some words of encouragement. His first words of advice are straightforward: “Chazak, V’EhMatz”/Be strong and have courage" (31:7). God offers the very same exhortation, when He instructs Joshua shortly after Moshe’s death with the same words – three times! (Joshua 1:6, 1:7, and 1:9). What meanings, values, and ideals do these two words convey?

A few years ago my daughter Penina was invited to give a Dvar Torah during her ninth grade orientation and she decided to offer a few thoughts on these two words. She cited the commentary of the Vilna Gaon, who explains that ‘Chazak/Be strong’ refers to physical fitness and ‘V’EhMatz/Have courage’ refers to spiritual resolve.

These two words, then, offer a valuable perspective to anyone starting an important new position. First and foremost, we must preserve our health and enhance our fitness so that we can physically handle the challenges of our role. At the same time, it is vital that we orient ourselves internally so we are positively motivated and actively engaged in our work for reasons that supercede our own personal concerns and desires. 

Sunday, September 9, 2012

Parshas Nitzavim - actions and feelings


As Moshe continues his farewell address, he speaks rhetorically about the lack of barriers to living a life of Torah observance and study. Moshe continues: “Rather, the matter is very near to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to perform it.” (Devarim 30:14)

Rabbi Raphael Pelcovitz notes that the word order in this verse appears counterintuitive 1. Usually, we first think about an action we want to take (it’s ‘in our heart’) and then we do something, either by speaking (it’s “in our mouth”), walking, or engaging in some other form of conscious movement. So what do we make of the reverse order in this verse? Rabbi Pelcovitz answers that there are times when an opportunity or imperative to do a mitzvah presents itself and we do not feel motivated to act. Moshe’s advice for these types of situations – act anyway and your feelings will come around.

Rabbi Pelcovitz cites the Sefer HaChinuch, which notes sagely that: “The heart follows man’s actions.”  We may see this in our own lives, when we find ourselves at the precipice of a holy day or an important social occasion that we ‘don’t feel quite ready for … yet.” Still, because time marches on despite our fervent wishes to the contrary, we plunge ahead and do our best to make the most of the event. And when we look back afterwards, we take some justified pride that – no matter our initial disposition or the distractions of our busy life – we managed to readjust, focus, and observe the mood of the moment as best we could.


1 = In “Action Inspires and Motivates,” a Dvar Torah in his book Table Talk: Shabbos and Yom Tov Divrei Torah.

Monday, July 30, 2012

Parshas Ve’eschanan - Divine Gifts


As Moshe recounts the days after the Jewish people conquered kings Sichon and Og, he recalls a personal moment: “I pleaded (Ve’eschanan) to Adonoy at that time, saying: Adonoy, Elohim, you have begun to show your servant Your greatness and your powerful hand, that there is no power in Heaven or Earth that can perform Your deeds and Your acts of power. Please, let me cross over and see the good land that is across the Jordan, this good mountain and the Lebanon.” (Deuteronomy 3:23-25).

Rashi, noting the use of the uncommon term Ve’eschanan, explains that the root of the word is HeeNoon, which signifies an undeserved gift. Rashi states that while the righteous might seek rewards from God based on their exemplary service and their many good deeds, they don’t try to seek favors from God based on their merits; instead, they see anything they request as an undeserved gift. I believe the patriarch Jacob expresses a similar sentiment, when he prays to God in the hours before he meets up again with Esau: “I am not worthy of all the mercies and of all the truth which Thou hast done with thy servant; for with my staff I passed over this Jordan (river) and now I have become two camps. Deliver me, I pray Thee, from the hand of my brother … ” (Genesis 32:11-12). Despite the fact that God made an explicit promise to Jacob to protect him in his journeys (Genesis 28:15), when Jacob prays for God’s help in his coming encounter he does not invoke God’s prior promise or seek credit for his years of faithfulness despite all the travails he experienced; all Jacob sees is that he is unworthy.

We can learn a great deal from Moshe and Jacob’s approach in prayer. We, who cannot stand on a mountain of merit as did our biblical role models, certainly should not seek God’s gifts based on our inherent goodness. It would serve us well to adopt a similar attitude of humility and recognize that whatever blessings we seek of God fit in the category of Divine gifts. If we take such an approach, our prayers may achieve greater poignancy and our appreciation of God’s beneficence can grow deeper.     

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Parshas Devorim - Exasperation


While Moshe recounts the highs and lows of his journey with the Jewish people through the desert over the previous 40 years, he looks back at the episode – in the first year of their travels – when he appointed judges over groups of one thousand, one hundred, fifty, and ten so as to share the burdens of leadership. Moshe recalls the feelings he had that led him to this decision: Eicha EhSaw LehVahDi TorHaChem, OoMaSahAhChem, VehReevChem/How alone can I bear your troublesomeness, your burdensomeness, and your contentiousness? (Deuteronomy 1:12)

Traditionally this parsha is read on the Shabbos right before the mournful fast day of Tisha B’av. Torah commentators have noticed that the uncommon word Moshe used at the start of his recollection – Eicha/How can I – is echoed in the first words of the Book of Lamentations (Megillas Eicha) that we read on Tisha B’av night. In the opening verse of the Book of Lamentations, the prophet Jeremiah asks rhetorically about the city of Jerusalem at the time of the destruction of the first Bais HaMikdash (Holy Temple): “Eicha YashVa BehDod HaEer RahBahTea Am/How is it that the city sits alone, which was (previously) full of people?

Rashi, commenting on Deuteronomy 1:12, states that what led Moshe to exclaim “Eicha!” and then to appoint judges was his exasperation with the Jewish people’s argumentativeness, their tendency to gossip (loshon hara), and their pessimistic outlook. When we consider Jeremiah’s question of Eicha, we need not search far for an answer. The caustic personality traits that sapped our greatest leader, Moshe, appear to have persisted and led centuries later to one of our greatest national tragedies. If we each examine our own character this Tisha B’av, will we find remnants of these divisive traits? By wrestling with this question and resolving to do better in the weeks to come, we have the chance to improve ourselves and to contribute to a larger effort to reverse the dynamics that have contributed to centuries of Jewish suffering.

Monday, March 12, 2012

Parshas VaYaKeil-Pekudei - an itemized list

The beginning of part II of this week’s double Torah reading is the sort of thing that my brother, the CPA, probably relishes. The parsha of Pekudei starts: “And these are the accountings of the mishkan, the mishkan of testimony, that were drawn up on Moshe’s command, for the work of the Levities, under the direction of Itamar, son of Aharon the Kohein.” (38:21). Then the parsha lists the different supplies used in the construction, by amount, and explains how each resource was used in the project. This detailed accounting goes on … for 41 verses.

As a non-accountant, I do not get much of a thrill from such a detailed report. So I have to ask: Was this really necessary?

In an essay on this Torah portion in his book “Table Talk,” Rabbi Raphael Pelcovitz asserts that this accounting is essential, as it reflects the standard that Moshe teaches the Jewish people towards the end of his life: “And you shall be clean from God and Israel.” (Numbers/Bamidbar 32:22). This verse, and our Torah reading, are telling us that it is not enough to be convinced of your own ethical standards – a proper Jew must ensure that his activities appear appropriate to his fellow man as well. This imperative is underscored as well by a verse in the Grace After Meals, which we recite far more frequently than we read this week's Torah portion: “And may we find favor and understanding in the eyes of God and man.” (at the end of the BaMoRom paragraph).

The directive of these two verses, and the example in Pekudei, is that we are only acting appropriately when our actions reflect a sensitivity to God and to the concerns of our family, our neighbors, our co-workers, and our community members in mind.

Monday, March 5, 2012

Parshas Ki Sisa - An odd idol

When Moshe did not descend the mountain after the giving of the Torah, the Jewish people grew nervous. They agitated for a replacement and Aharon complied. (Shemos/Exodus 32: 1-5). The result was a golden calf.

Why was this new object of worship a golden calf?

One answer I have heard is that the Egyptians worshipped cows so the Jews went back to a familiar motif. This suggestion is plausible.

Rashi offers another answer. Citing the Midrash Tanhuma, he relates the following story: Moshe complained to God that when the Jewish slaves fell short of their quota of bricks, the Egyptians took Jewish babies and used them to fill gaps in the buildings. God told Moshe that these babies were fated to be evil so their loss was not as tragic as it appeared. To illustrate His point God brought one of the babies back to life and that child was Micah, who later grew up to become a well-known idol-worshiper in the time of the Judges (chapter 17-18). Shortly before leaving Egypt Moses sought to raise Joseph’s coffin from the bottom of the Nile, where the Egyptians had buried it to prevent the Jews from leaving. Moshe wrote on a metal plate “Arise Ox, arise Ox” (echoing his reference to Joseph much later in Devarim/Deuteronomy as “a first born ox”; 33:17) and threw it in the water, which caused Joseph’s coffin to miraculously float to the top of the waters. Somehow, Micah got hold of this metal plate and, at the critical moment at Sinai, he threw it in the goldsmith’s fire that Aharon was tending and ‘Poof!’ a golden calf arose.

What are we to make of this midrash? One message appears to be that questioning God’s judgment, even when there is widespread suffering, is unwise and can even lead to a much greater loss of faith. Another theme may be that the same words that are focused and fitting in one setting may wreck unbelievable havoc in another.

Perhaps a third idea is that when you create a tool for miracles, even seemingly necessary ones, that tool can be tragically misused. The same metal plate that enabled Moshe to fulfill the Jewish people’s promise to bring Joseph’s bones out of Egypt (Bereishis 50:25) became the catalyst that produced the golden calf. In our era this message may have particular resonance. We are blessed to have incredible technological resources. For some these resources serve some as powerful tools for research and personal growth. For others, the same resources enable an accelerated pursuit of mindless diversion, a mind-numbing escapism and, in the worst cases, serve as a vehicle for destruction of relationships and lives.  

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Parshas Terumah - mystery supplies

God instructs Moshe to take up a collection, from among the people of Israel, for items needed for the construction of the Mishkan (the portable sanctuary the Jews used in the desert, for 40 years). “This is the offering that you shall take from them: gold, silver and copper. Greenish-blue wool, dark red wool, crimson wool, fine linen, and goats’ hair. Red-dyed ram’s skins, tachash skins, and acacia wood. Oil for the lamp, spices for the anointing oil, and for the incense of aromatic spices. Onyx stones and filling stones for the ephod and breastplate.” (Exodus 25:3-7).

Of all the requested donations, one strikes the commentator Rashi as problematic – the acacia wood. He asks: Where did they get this wood in the desert? He answers the question by quoting from the Midrash Tanchuma, which asserts that the patriarch Jacob prophetically understood that the Jews would build a sanctuary in their desert journey centuries later. So Jacob brought cedar trees with him when he relocated his family to Egypt (towards the end of the book of Bereishis/Genesis), planted the trees there, and instructed his children to take them when they left.

Though the midrash answers an apparent discrepancy quite neatly, I’m left with more questions. One problem I have is that there is another element on the list of donations that is also puzzling, which Rashi does not address. We learn later in the parsha that the artisans working on the Mishkan were to make a large menorah out of one solid block of pure gold (25: 31, as explained by Rashi). Where did the Jews get such a large block of gold? While it is true that the Jews requested and received from their Egyptian neighbors all sorts of valuables, including “gold articles,” right before they departed Egypt (Exodus 12:35), it seems unlikely that any Egyptian would have a large block of solid gold in his home to offer. So where did the Jews get this block of gold?

There are other items on the donation list that may appear as unlikely supplies of a people that rushed into the wilderness after centuries of slavery (such as the incense). The fact that none of the other items receive the same attention from Rashi accentuates the question: Why does the acacia wood alone get this attention from Rashi and the midrash? One possible answer – the wood represents the framework, of both the ark that carried the tablets and the walls of the Mishkan itself. The midrash illustrates the value of our leaders exercising foresight, to plant the seeds (both literal & figurative) for the framework of the next generation’s basic needs.

That answer may work. But are there others?


I welcome comments on this Dvar Torah. The best way to reach me is through this email address: donlegofzechut@yahoo.com   

Monday, February 6, 2012

Parshas Yitro - giving advice

Moshe’s father in law, Yitro, arrives at the Israelite encampment in the desert and observes that Moshe spends an entire day adjudicating disputes between people, “from the morning until the evening.” Yitro tells his son in law: The thing you are doing is not good. You will surely wear away both yourself and this nation that is with thee, the thing is too heavy for you; you cannot do all this alone. Now, listen to my voice and I’ll give you some advice, and may God be with you; you should be for the people before God and bring the matters before God. And you should instruct them on the statutes and the laws and let them know the way that they should go and the work they should do. And you should arrange from all the people able men, God-fearing, truthful, and honest; and you should place them as officers over thousands, officers over hundreds, officers over fifties, and officers over tens. Let them judge the people at all times and every great matter they should bring to you but every small matter they shall judge and they will bear (the burden) with you. If this idea you shall do, and God commands you so, then you’ll be able to endure, and also all this people shall come to its place in peace. (Exodus 18: 17-23). Moshe accepts the advice and promptly implements it.

I suggest that Moshe’s easy acquiescence to Yitro’s advice was not merely smart family politics but, rather, was a product of the wisdom of Yitro’s ideas as well as his wise manner of delivery.

Can we learn from Yitro’s success as an advice giver? There may be a few principles worth gleaning from the situation:
1)     Only offer advice to someone with whom you have a close personal relationship
(Moshe had already affirmed the closeness of his bond with his father in law, by greeting him warmly on his arrival; 18:7-9).   
2)     Delineate the danger first, clearly, yet without exaggeration. (“You will surely wear away both yourself and this nation that is with thee.”) Then offer suggestions.
3)     Offer a solution that includes specific, practical ideas.
And, perhaps most critically, as Rabbi Yeroham Levovitch noted …
4)     Be the kind of person who demonstrates a healthy capacity for self-criticism and growth
(Note that before he offers advice Yitro, who the text describes as “the priest of Midian” (18:1), heard the news of the Exodus and remarked: “Now I know that the Lord is greater than all the gods.” The priest of another nation readily admited the superiority of the Jewish God, demonstrating his openness to change his perspective in the face of new evidence.)


I welcome comments on this Dvar Torah. The best way to reach me is through this email address: donlegofzechut@yahoo.com   

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Parshas B'Shalach - Squeaky Wheels

One of the continuing regrets I have in my work as the K-1 teacher in a Sunday morning Hebrew school is that I feel compelled to spend an inordinate amount of time on the children that act out, shout out, and/or just can’t seem to sit in their seats. The wholly ‘good’ kids – the ones who are eager to learn, sit in their seats, and play by the rules – consistently get less attention than I’d like to give them.

As I see in this week’s Torah reading, Moshe faced a similar challenge as the leader of the Jewish people. In at least one situation, he managed to apportion his attention fairly and ‘reward’ the faithful.

The Jews have escaped Egypt, traveled for a few days, and are now encamped by the Red Sea. Then they see that the Egyptian army has pursued them and fast approaches. “The Children of Israel raised their eyes and behold - Egypt was traveling after them and they (the Jews) were very frightened; the Children of Israel cried out to God. And they said to Moshe: Were there no graves in Egypt that you took us to die in the wilderness? What did you do to us, to take us out of Egypt? Didn’t we tell you in Egypt: Let us be and we will serve Egypt, for it is better that we should serve Egypt than we should die in the wilderness.” (14: 10-12).

Ramban and other commentators read these verses and discern that the reactions to the approaching threat reflect two different groups within the nation of Israel. One group, the faithful (the “Children of Israel”), saw the threat and “cried out to God” – as Rashi interprets this phrase, they prayed. The other group (referred to more dismissively as “they”) saw the threat and complained cynically to Moshe.

But look at Moshe’s response. “Moshe said to the people: Do not fear! Stand firm and see the salvation of God that He will perform for you today; for as you have seen Egypt today, you shall not see them ever again. God will make war for you. And you (emphasis added), shall remain silent.” (14:13-14)

We can interpret Moshe’s reply as addressing both groups’ distinctly. The prayerful group gets ample assurance. The grumbling group is told, basically, to shut up (although they had, of course, just heard the reassuring message too). In his attention and speech, Moshe is able to ‘reward’ the faithful and not so subtly both reassure & chide the cynics.
   

I welcome comments on this blog post. The best way to reach me is through this email: donlegofzechut@yahoo.com

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Parshas Bo - Moshe's Anger

After Moshe warns Pharoah that in the tenth plague, the first born in each family in Egypt will die, the verse tells us: “And he left Pharoah’s presence in a burning anger” (Exodus 11:8).

Why was Moshe so incensed? It seems unlikely that Moshe was upset that Pharoah’s continued obstinacy blocked Jewish liberation, because God has promised him moments earlier that after this last plague, the Jews would be imminently released (11:1). So why is Moshe filled with anger?

Rashi suggests that Moshe is upset because shortly before he warned Pharoah about the last plague, Pharoah said “Don’t come see me again!” (10:28). Given that we’re told later that Moshe “was exceedingly humble, more than any person on the earth” (Numbers 12:3), we can probably rule out a personal slight as the motivation for Moshe’s fury. So what then? I suggest that Rashi is pointing to a critical, though perhaps often overlooked, aspect of Moshe’s character – his universal outlook.

We will recall that Moshe’s adoptive mother was an Egyptian princess and he was raised in the palace. Though his current mandate as God’s messenger led him to focus exclusively on the liberation of the Jewish people, Moshe may have retained some attachment to and concern for the Egyptian people. We know as well that when he fled Egypt, after executing the Egyptian taskmaster who was needlessly torturing a Jew, Moshe arrived in Midian and saved Yisro’s daughters – all non-Jews – from being harassed by the local shepherds (2: 17). It appears that Moshe actively cared about all people, not just his Jewish co-religionists. It is possible, then, that Moshe’s anger stemmed from his concern for the Egyptians and his frustration that Pharoah – in his great arrogance - had just needlessly squandered an opportunity to save them from incredible suffering.

As Jews, we believe that we follow a particular destiny. This Torah verse should prompt us to consider that our unique destiny does not preclude us, and indeed should prompt us, to exercise compassion for the broader world around us. 

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Parshas Va'eira - Extreme Humility

Moshe initially approached Pharoah and asked that the Jewish people be released from bondage for a three-day religious festival in the desert. Pharoah denied the request and, instead, harshly increased the work demands on the Jews. The Jewish overseers, crushed by the new rules, yell at Moshe. Moshe complains to God: “Why have you made things worse for your people?” (Exodus, 5: 1-23) God says: “Go back, tell the Jewish people that I will save them and tell Pharorah to release them or I’ll afflict his nation with plagues.” Moshe tries to talk with the Jewish people but they are exasperated and won’t listen. Moshe says to God: “Behold, the children of Israel haven’t listened to me; so how will Pharoah listen to me? And (besides), I have a speech impediment!” (6:12).

The last clause of Moshe’s argument is very puzzling, because he had already raised this objection to God earlier (4:10) and God explicitly addressed this concern, telling Moshe that since He created the gift of speech, He can grant Moshe relief from his disability (4:11-12). So why did Moshe raise the same concern again?

In his book Redeeming Relevance In the Book of Exodus: Explorations in Text and Meaning, Rabbi Francis Nataf suggests that Moshe’s reiterated objection reflects his extreme humility. Despite God’s reassurances, he just could not believe that he was capable of serving as God’s agent in freeing the Jews from bondage. As Rabbi Nataf puts it: “On some level, he felt that he was a speech impedient.” Moshe may have feared that no human messenger would be well suited to accurately and movingly convey God’s will in the world. But he was certain that he was not up to the task and even God couldn't convince him that he was fit for the assignment.

As Rabbi Nataf points out, it was precisely that level of sincere, deep humility that made Moshe the ideal candidate for the job.  Because Moshe was so very humble, God's messages could be related clearly without any possible distortion from the ego of the messenger.