Dear TBZ community:
Once again, this week began with another mass shooting. This time in Highland Park, Illinois, a neighborhood with a large Jewish Community. My first response was to check in with several friends and TBZ members who are from that area or whose families live in the area. Everyone I spoke with was safe and unharmed.
This horror came on a day of joy, on a holiday, on a day for celebrating the freedoms of this country. This day became a day of pain and loss. It became a tragedy that held in it the worst that one can imagine – a toddler who lost both of his parents in this shooting. Adding to this inmensurable pain and tragedy, we know that in the Chicago area this was not the only shooting of the week, as gun violence is a daily occurrence in Chicago and in so many other places in our country.
As we read about this white young man being taken into custody without “any incident”, we can see clearly, yet again, the deadly reality of our country’s systemic racism. From experience, we know that when the pursued is not a white man, when he is a Black man, he is more likely to be shot and to be killed. We see the image of George Floyd and so many others who, unlike the Highland Park shooter, did nothing but be Black and drive a car; be Black and sell a cigarette; be Black and reach for his wallet.
In this week’s Torah portion, Parshat Chukat, we read about the death of Miriam and the death of Aaron. We also read about the striking of the rock, the “sin” that cost Moshe his entry into the Promised Land.
First, there is a very brief description of the death of Miriam, the prophetess who was the older sister of Moshe and Aaron. This is followed by the people's need for water and Moshe’s response. These two events are in fact connected -- the Rabbis notice that stories with Miriam are always associated with water. The proximity of the two stories - Miriam’s death and the need for water, have led the rabbis to say that it was Miriam’s Well that accompanied the people of Israel through their travels in the desert, and upon her death the Well disappeared, leaving the people parched and frightened.
Without water, the people complain about thirst, and Moshe is instructed by God to speak to a rock, which God says will then produce water. Seemingly frustrated and perhaps saddened by his sister's death, Moshe strikes the rock instead of speaking to it. Water does flow, but God is angry at Moshe for his lack of trust, and tells Moshe that he will not be allowed to lead the people on the final steps of the journey into the Promised Land.
Our tradition seems to have a profound discomfort with the idea that Moshe, the greatest leader, teacher and prophet of all time, was not allowed to enter the Promised Land after forty years of leading the people through the desert. Did the human agent of Exodus not merit at least that? Were his moments of weakness not deserving some compassion and understanding? It seems pretty unfair!
A common understanding, as expressed by Rashi, is that Moshe was punished because he hit the rock rather than spoke to it, as God had instructed him to do. Others, such as Maimonides, maintain that Moshe was punished because of how he spoke to the people. He rebuked them with harsh language, when all they sought was fresh water, a basic human need. He was insensitive to the needs of the people, an inexcusable trait in a great leader.
But when reminded of the context, we can perhaps understand why Moshe behaved the way he did. Miriam, a prophet herself, contributed greatly to the leadership of the people. Miriam was Moshe’s care-giver from the moment he was born. Miriam was the one that looked over Moshe when he was a baby in the basket in the Nile River. She is the one that made sure Moshe could be brought to his mother to nurse.
Miriam dies and the people of Israel despair in the wilderness. Moshe also despairs in the wilderness. Moshe loses his temper, but what he really lost was his sister. For the Israelites the water was gone, because Miriam is gone, and for Moshe, his compassion and patience is gone as well, lost to sadness and the longing for his sister.We can completely sympathize then, with Moshe’ moment of weakness in his grief and frustration. We can understand his fragility.
Perhaps we can see this moment of sadness, of exhaustion, of ending, as the moment when God understands that it is Moshe’s time to move on. That denying him entrance to the Promised Land is not punishment, but rather recognition of the end of an era, the end of a generation and the passing of leadership. The proclamation about the death of Moshe, the death of Miriam and later in the parasha, the death of Aaron, all signify a shift, a necessary change for the journey to go on.
But perhaps the most powerful part of the story is what happens only one chapter later. In chapter 21, verse 5, the people of Israel complain again – and God sends serpents to punish them. The people go to Moshe, repentant over their actions and complaints, and they ask Moshe to pray for them and Moshe does. Even after Moshe’s grief, even after his exhaustion, even after God has told him that he will not be with the people when they fulfill the dream he has been struggling for, he does not give up. He is there for his people. He continues the work.
Moshe might have hit the rock in desperation, in grief, and in anger, but he is a model of perseverance – of not letting anger and desperation overtake him. He doesn’t abandon the people, or the journey ahead, even when he will not see the final promise.
How can we take this teaching to action in our lives?
The suffering, the death, the mass shootings, the gun violence, the systemic racism, the injustices that we encounter, make us scream and hit rocks. We scream and cry, but like Moshe we cannot become despondent, we cannot abandon the work, even when it seems that redemption is beyond our grasp. We may hit the rock in our anger and anguish, but we cannot quit the fight for redemption.
Moshe teaches that we cannot quit. Instead, our tears, our anger, must take us to a place of action, of compassion, of rekindling our passion for justice. We too must move on to the next chapter. We too cannot lose hope that redemption is at hand. We too, like Moshe, can bring change. We know that this world will be a better place when we act with determination, with compassion, and when we do not give up.
May this Shabbat bring renewal and blessings to all of you and your loved ones.
May we find strength, courage, and patience, and open our hearts with generosity.
May all those who are ill find healing.
May we have a joyful, sweet, and peaceful Shabbat.
Shabbat Shalom,
