(Dorin Or sings “Appearance.)
Anyone who has taken on the mantle of leadership knows: appearances matter — sometimes more than reality. As I’ve taken on more leadership roles as a Jewish professional, I need to remind myself: don’t check your email during meetings, be sure to say your blessings before you eat, keep most of your hot takes to yourself. Sometimes I’m successful at taking my own advice. But when I don’t there is always a consequence: why? Because my staff, students, colleagues, congregants, and community are always watching. As they should be; leaders are role models, and when you choose to lead, those around you will take your cues — both those you intend to give and those you don’t.
There are few leaders in our history who understood this better than Moshe Rabbeinu (Moses our rabbi.) When he struck the Egyptian taskmaster in righteous anger, he fled because of the judgment and condemnation of those whom he would eventually lead. His brother and sister spoke behind his back — and in front of much of the community — about his wife. His struggles in leadership were observed by the keen and experienced eye of his father in law, Jethro. All eyes were on Moses, and his community responded to most everything he did and didn’t do, to his actions both real and imagined.
Despite the wisdom he gained over the course of his storied life, Moses still resisted the full weight of his position at the end of his days. God had made clear to him that he would not enter the Promised Land. Having bargained with God in the past, he tried to do the same before he perished. Didn’t he — who served as God’s partner in redeeming the Jewish people from slavery and shepherding them through the desert — deserve the reward of salvation?
God makes it clear that the issue is not up for discussion. In Deuteronomy 3:26 we read:
וַיִּתְעַבֵּ֨ר יְהֹוָ֥ה בִּי֙ לְמַ֣עַנְכֶ֔ם וְלֹ֥א שָׁמַ֖ע אֵלָ֑י וַיֹּ֨אמֶר יְהֹוָ֤ה אֵלַי֙ רַב־לָ֔ךְ אַל־תּ֗וֹסֶף דַּבֵּ֥ר אֵלַ֛י ע֖וֹד בַּדָּבָ֥ר הַזֶּֽה׃
But יהוה was wrathful with me on your account and would not listen to me. יהוה said to me, “Enough (Rav Lach)! Never speak to Me of this matter again!
God isn’t open to a vulnerable conversation — Divine judgment is clear. The question that intrigues the commentators is: why? What does Rav Lach mean? Does it just mean “enough,” or something deeper?
Rashi, the 11th century French commentator, proposes two translations/explanations:
That there will be “rav lach” — much for you — in the world to come for Moses. His reward will be in heaven and he shouldn’t worry.
It really does mean “enough!” Moses needs to stop fighting with God in front of the community when God’s answer is clear “so that people should not say, “How harsh is the Master, and how obstinate and importunate is the disciple" (Sotah 13b.)” In essence, it is a bad look for Moses and God if they keep on fighting in the public eye. While God’s decision will not change, if they keep arguing, the people will come to see God as a harsh master and Moses as a stubborn and disrespectful subject.
Chizkuni argues something similar to Rashi’s second explanation:
G-d had said to Moses: “if you cross the Jordan into the Holy Land, people will say that the decree against the generation which had come out of Egypt to die in the desert was because they had forfeited their claim on an afterlife. If I now allow you to enter the Holy Land in response to your prayer, they will say that Moses was not concerned with anyone but himself. Therefore you will be buried where they are buried, and both you and they will rise at the time of the resurrection and live in the Holy Land.”
We know from the previous four books of the Torah that Moses is deeply concerned with the welfare of the Jewish people, even those who gossiped behind his back and made him miserable. But the community does not have a God’s eye or a readers’ eye view. If Moses does not accept the same fate as the rest of his generation, it will appear to others that he had separated himself from the community for his personal benefit.
What would it mean for the Jewish community if they came to believe that God appointed a messenger whose primary goal was self-dealing? It would lead to a collective collapse in faith and order, which is to say that life would become rudderless and unlivable for the generation that would enter the Land. They need to believe in a God that is fair without being harsh, and they need to believe in a prophet who puts the community’s interest and God’s will before his own. What Moses deserves is not the point. What the people need is.
At this moment, none of us are led by a leader as worthy as Moses (if anyone disagrees with me, let me know why in the comments.) That said, the quality of our current leaders should not be a guide in establishing our own styles of leadership. We should look to the lessons taught through the life and example of Moses: strong leaders stick with their community and accept their fate alongside them. They are more concerned with preserving and strengthening the faith of those they lead than with getting what they personally deserve or desire. These two timeless tenets of leadership should guide us, especially during a moment when we have become poor of faith and character. In the adapted and Ashkenazified words of the Mishnah, “in a place where there are no mensches, be a mensch.” On this Shabbat, let us begin to rebuild our world by empowering new leaders — a new generation who will take their lead from a frustrated God and a despondent Moses, who despite their misgivings put the community’s faith first.
Shabbat Shalom