Moses - A Man Apart

Shemot

Ex. 1:1 - 6:1

Précis: With this parasha, we begin the second book of the Bible, Exodus. In Hebrew, the title for this book is “Shemot” (names) because the first verses begin with a listing of names of the Israelites who came down to Egypt. A new Pharaoh has arisen who “does not remember Joseph.” He enslaves the Israelites and orders the killing of all male children. A Levite male child is born, is hidden by his parents, and is sent down the river in a reed basket where he is saved by Pharaoh’s daughter. He is subsequently identified as Moses.

            Nothing appears in the text about Moses’ childhood. As an adult, Moses witnesses a taskmaster beating a Hebrew and slays the taskmaster. Next, he witnesses a fight between two Hebrews. When he intervenes, one Hebrew mentions Moses’ killing of the Egyptian. Fearing disclosure, Moses flees. Moses becomes a shepherd in the camp of Jethro, a Midianite “priest.” He encounters the burning bush and receives his charge to free the Israelites. Moses and his brother Aaron go to Pharaoh and ask that the people be freed to worship God in the desert. They are refused, and the burdens are increased on the slaves, who become angry with Moses for his interference. The parasha ends with God telling Moses, “You now will see what I will do to Pharaoh.”

Ex. 2:1-8 “Now a man of the tribe of Levi married a Levite woman, and she became pregnant and gave birth to a son… when she could hide him no longer, she got a papyrus basket for him and coated it with tar and pitch. Then she placed the child in it and put it among the reeds along the bank of the Nile. His sister stood at a distance to see what would happen to him. Then Pharaoh’s daughter went down to the Nile to bathe… She  saw the basket among the reeds and sent her female slave to get it. She opened it and saw the baby… ‘This is one of the Hebrew babies,’ she said. Then his sister asked Pharaoh’s daughter, ‘Shall I go and get one of the Hebrew women to nurse the baby for you?’ ‘Yes, go,’ she answered. So the girl went and got the baby’s mother… When the child grew older, she took him to Pharaoh’s daughter and he became her son. She named him Moses, saying, ‘I drew him out of the water.’’’

             The intricate detail of Moses’ origin appears in these verses, and yet our text tells us virtually nothing of his life before becoming an adult. Compare and contrast this to the stories of Jacob or Joseph and the disparity is stark. With Moses, much is omitted. What was his relationship to his biological family, and to the Israelites? Was he really a “Prince of Egypt”? The Sages added so much detail in midrash that when we read the actual text, we may be surprised to fail to find some of the most famous rabbinic additions (where is the story about the baby Moses reaching for the coal instead of the gem and burning his mouth?).

            The text reveals a man of compassion, helping a Jewish slave being beaten, breaking up a fight between slaves, helping women water their sheep. He is also a man of passion and anger, traits which will reappear later in our text. 

            Moses is part of the Jewish People, but it is an arms-length relationship. He has a  separate upbringing, he spends decades in the of solitude in the desert, and is alone at the Burning Bush and at Sinai. When he comes down from the mountain, his face is hidden, and at the end, his death is solitary and unaccompanied.

            We can view Moses as a metaphor for the Jewish People, living separately and apart  from other peoples, and yet living within their midst.

            Finally, the lack of detail about Moses’ life is a reminder that while Moses was special, it was the message he brought to us which was important. We honor Moses – certainly! But we do not confuse his person with the message he delivered. 

A Little White Lie

Vayechi

Gen. 47:28 - 50:26

Précis: As the Book of Genesis comes to a close, Jacob lived (vayechi) in the land of Egypt for 17 years and dies after giving a final, poetic, individualized ethical testament to each of his sons. In a great funeral procession, Joseph, his brothers, and Pharaoh and his court bring Jacob’s body to Machpela to be buried. At the end of the parasha, Joseph dies after exacting a promise to bring his remains to the land of Israel as well.

Gen. 50:16 “Before his death your father left us this instruction: ‘Say to Joseph, ‘‘Forgive, I urge you, the offense and guilt of your brothers.’”

            This reading marks the ends the story of the Jews as a family/clan, since next week we commence the reading of the Book of Exodus (Sh’mot) with the Hebrew People as a nation (the Israelites).    

            The book of Bereshit as a whole has an explicit focus on familial rivalry. We see it vividly between Cain and Abel and again among Noah’s sons. Soon thereafter, we see the inability of family members to live side by side when Abraham and Lot are forced to dwell apart. The rivalry between Jacob and Esau (fomented by their parents, no less!) leads to death threats by Esau and to long years of exile for Jacob. The story of the fight for familial love – again with a background of parental favoritism - reaches an apex with the story of Joseph and his brothers.

            There are additional rivalries hinted at as well (between Rachel and Leah, between Isaac and Ishmael) about which the text is less specific, but which are sources for midrash by the Sages. Most of these rivalries result in what we might call a “cold peace.” The Joseph story, however, is different, as we see sibling rivalry overcome by repentance (t’shuvah).

            And yet, we see a potential for continued uncertainty when the brothers, fearful that Joseph will seek revenge after Jacob’s death, send Joseph a message cited above. As Rashi notes, Jacob never gave such a command to his children, at least in our received text. He suggests that the brothers lied for the sake of shalom bayit (literally, peace of the house). Rabbi Simeon ben Gamliel taught, "Great is peace, for even the tribal ancestors resorted to a fabrication in order to make peace between Joseph and themselves (Gen. Rabbah 100:8).” It has become a Jewish value to tell a minor falsehood for the sake of peace. The issue of whether it is ever appropriate to lie is one which my Shoresh Hebrew High School students find particularly fascinating. They are torn, for example, between Hillel’s advice to call all brides beautiful (whether they are or not), and Shamai’s instruction to refrain from comment on the beauty of a bride if it is lacking.

            In recent weeks, we have heard many in the political realm explain that facts are not always facts, and that truth is more elusive than we might believe it to be. It is arguable that the sons of Israel were finally fully reconciled because of a “white lie.” Is this the way forward for modern Jews, who are divided along so many religious and political lines, in Israel and in the Diaspora? Is it the way forward for modern Americans? When the “white lie” is used for shalom bayit, tradition implies that it is appropriate.

            However, there comes a time when even a “white lie” for the sake of shalom cannot be acceptable. When disunity and disrespect and antipathy towards different points of view are rife, the lies we tell ourselves and others get in the way of confronting the issues which divide us. As Kohelet tells us, “There is a time to be silent, and a time to speak.(Ecc. 3:7)” Now is a time to speak to create a dialogue for greater understanding, at home, across America, and among all of k’lal Yisrael.