Yitro

By Mark Wieder

Most of our Torah readings during the year have to do with Moshe. Who was Moshe? What do we know about him so far, and what significance does he have for us? A few brief scenes from his life illustrate his background, both Egyptian and Hebrew, and how it may have affected his leadership. We shall look at positive and negative aspects of Moshe’s leadership, and how they may inform our decisions in similar situations.

A few chapters ago, Moshe was put in a mini-ark and placed in the reeds by the bank of the Nile. (With all due respect to DreamWorks, three-month-old Moshe did not go white water rafting in his little basket with Miryam running along the shore after it.) He was found by Pharaoh’s daughter, and given to Yocheved to nurse. They were not brought into the palace to live: Pharaoh’s daughter says, “Take this child and nurse it for me.” Moshe remained at home hearing his mother’s lullabies and being influenced by his birth family. The next thing we hear in the Chumash is, “When the child grew up she brought him to Pharaoh’s daughter, who made him her son.”

Moshe was raised within Egyptian culture, not as a slave. Two very positive consequences arise from this. Firstly, he was free of the slave mentality that gripped the Israelites, which later gave him the ability to ask for the release of the Israelites, rather than just appeal for better working conditions. Secondly, as an outsider, the Israelites may have afforded him more respect than they would have given had he grown up among them. Also, as a prince of Egypt, he had a substantial education, which the slaves lacked.

Given these advantages in life, why did Moshe get involved with the plight of the slaves? Perhaps it was a remnant of learning that he was born to Hebrews; perhaps he had additional contact with his birth family—after all, we are told nothing of his adolescence—but the question remains, what was in it for him? Caring for the oppressed Hebrews would certainly not have enhanced his position as an Egyptian prince. Rabbi Levi Meier, a contemporary author and chaplain, writes that Moshe, “could have felt the way most of us do when we encounter a homeless person lying on a bus bench or a curb or loitering in a doorway. If we look such a person in the eye and discern his or her humanity, we also see parts of ourselves. We are forced to identify with another’s predicament and become aware of the fact that we too can become homeless and outcast. It is so much easier to thrust some coins into a person’s hand, making sure to avoid any eye contact, or to walk by, pretending not to see.” Will we get involved as did Moshe, or turn our heads and pretend that we do not see? Will we be able to lead our communities in tikkun olam, to show our congregations the human face of need?

Most of us, in the years to come, will go to new communities, entering first as an outsider, as Moshe did when he returned to Egypt to lead the Israelites, with different ways of seeing things, and an outsider’s view of what is right and wrong with that community. If we confront the existing situation in a demanding way, we are likely to be met with hardened hearts as were Moshe and Aharon. The status quo is familiar and comfortable, even when painful. As we remember, the Hebrew slaves were enamored of the melons, cucumbers, onions, etc. from their time in Egypt. Change is not always comfortable. As we see from the Israelites having to make bricks without the straw being supplied, sometimes things get worse before they get better. Can we make the changes we desire even more attractive than freedom from oppression was to the Israelites? Will even this be enough?

Each of us will be called upon to decide matters large and small in our communities. We will be the leaders, the authorities. We picture Moshe practicing law among the people at the beginning of Yitro, today’s portion, without having had benefit of receiving the law from God on Mt. Sinai. In fact, also in Yitro, we have the first recitation of the ten commandments, even before Moshe is called up to be given the tablets of the law. We must suspect that his Egyptian background played a big part in this, and it inspires the thought that our previous learning may also help us judge and dispense justice. While we will learn much Torah, Talmud, halakhah and so forth in the coming years, having already mastered dikduk so completely, we need to know that we can bring our years of other experience to the fore; each of us has unique experiences to share, and stories that have become part of us and inform how we make decisions. This may not be the same as learning Egyptian jurisprudence at Pharaoh’s knee, but is important nonetheless. Even though our decisions may indeed be based on the shoulders of the Rabbis, they will be given a contemporary voice—our voice.

I believe we will sooner or later identify with Moshe grappling with the complaining Israelites. We can empathize with Moshe’s frustrations as a leader. He had to organize 600,000 men, plus women, children and the mixed multitude that departed with the Israelites. This great population was always complaining, and not following directions. We will probably never need to organize a couple million people, yet we may have to face disgruntled board members, congregants who don’t live up to our expectations or hopes, and people who seem grateful for our help, yet turn out not to be friends—remember that the one who likely informed on Moshe killing the Egyptian taskmaster was the slave he rescued. Leadership is not easy even if one has a direct line to God, especially in challenging times.

And our challenges will also be closer to home. At the very beginning of our portion, Yitro brings Tzipporah and her and Moshe’s sons back to him in the wilderness. What do we learn from him needing to reintroduce Moshe to his family? In the verses that follow, Moshe acknowledges only Yitro. While it’s not unusual in Tanakh for the woman, his wife, to be ignored, the fact is that he doesn’t acknowledge his sons. There is no joyous family reunion. The sons, in fact, are never mentioned again in connection with Moshe, and only once more in Chronicles as a matter of genealogy. Perhaps at the burning bush, when Moshe gained a new purpose in life, his family became part of a past he wanted to forget.

As professionals in the Jewish community, it may be difficult to find a balance in our lives between the duties of our public roles, and maintaining a place for our families and friends in our lives. I recall the “Lessons from Rocks” reading in our Rabbinic Forum materials, where we learn the importance of establishing priorities and putting big rocks in the jar first. In contrast, every time an extra meeting or event is added to our schedules here on campus I think of the “eager beaver” quoted who says, “no matter how full your schedule is, if you try really hard you can always fit some more things in it!”

I don’t think any of us would like to be put in the situation described by Nelson Mandela to a journalist once, that when he tried to hug his grown-up daughter, she flinched away from him and burst out, “You are the father to all our people, but you have never had the time to be a father to me.” He said that his greatest regret was the price that his children paid for his political commitments.

In our portion, Moshe’s jar is full of little things. Yitro watches Moshe playing judge for the entire people, and says, you have to be kidding! What do we need to learn from this exchange? Primarily, that we need to delegate. We cannot answer all the needs of a large group of people unstintingly. We learn that this is inefficient; that we would have to keep a lot of people waiting, and that it is very disempowering. As opposed to our Lubovich co-religionists’ need for a rebbe, we do not need a flesh and blood messiah to tell us what to do, let alone present ourselves in this role.

There is one very interesting take on the difference between what Yitro suggests to Moshe, and what Moshe in fact institutes. Yitro suggests that he have chiefs who bring him, “kol ha-davar ha-gadol,” every big case, while in practice, Moshe asks for all the difficult cases, “ha-davar ha-kasheh.” Midrash points out that this is an important lesson. “Moshe and the judges were to disregard litigants’ social and economic status and other social characteristics. When a problem was difficult, it was to be brought before Moshe—even if it involved the simplest, most humble person in the community.” We say, “kol hakavod!”

Yet there is another point where we might wish that Moshe had done something differently than recommended by Yitro. He is told to select capable men to help him judge. And even though Tzipporah acted decisively in the desert and saved his life, and his sister Miryam had been described as a prophetess, he went with the conventional wisdom of the time and selected only men. May we in our futures be much more attentive to the best available candidate for a job, not merely one of the correct or favored gender. And perhaps the right person may be slow of speech as was Moshe, or differently abled in some other way.

Moshe was, as were all other heroes in the Tanakh, a flawed, imperfect human being. He was a solitary man who went from years of tending sheep in peace to tending the masses amid turmoil. He was frequently angry, depressed, and felt in over his head. He went from ecstasy to despair, never knowing what his people would throw at him. In our years as cantors, educators and rabbis, we will probably also know some of this turmoil. But it is my fervent hope that we know many more joys than upsets, and share bountiful rewards for the work we are setting out to do; that we inspire others to live fulfilled Jewish lives; and that we be sources of justice and compassion.

May our minds and hearts remain open, trusting and loving; and may we live to be a hundred and twenty as did Moshe, with our eyes undimmed, and our vigor intact.

Keyn y’hi ratzon!

Bibliography:

Meier, Rabbi Levi, Ph.D., Moses—The Prince, the Prophet, Jewish Lights Publishing, Woodstock, VT, 1998.

Wiesel, Elie, Messengers of God: Biblical Portraits and Legends, Summit Books, NY 1976.

Zeligs, Dorothy F., Ed.D., Moses: A Psychodynamic Study, Human Sciences Press, Inc., NY 1986.