On the 7th of Adar—the yahrzeit of Moshe Rabeinu—some of us discussed perhaps the most famous episode of this week’s parashah, with Moshe hitting the rock he was supposed to talk to. We discussed Moshe being a man of the previous generation, a slave generation, knowing how to hit and not knowing how to explain (לא איש דברים אנכי[1]); a man who, ever since he brought down the second tablets, wears a mask on his face unless he is teaching Torah—a man who readily discusses Torah, but, in his mask, does not connect to people otherwise, and cannot get a feel for a new generation that has a very different mindset, different needs, desires and proclivities.
When discussing God’s response to the rock-hitting episode—יען לא-האמנתם בי…לכן לא תביאו[2]—we only very briefly touched on the fact that this statement is in the plural, asking what Aharon, who has been passive and silent the entire time, has to do with any of this, but never answering the question.
Unlike Moshe, Aharon never wears a mask. He interacts with the people directly; his whole job is to explain[3]. By all accounts, he is a beloved man of the people. The incident at the end of parshat Behaalotcha throws a bit of a wrench into this, when Aharon and Miriam form plans to influence Moshe that fail spectacularly; it appears to us that it is in the aftermath of this incident that Aharon becomes afraid to question Moshe. He remains a beloved man of the people, but refuses to ever contradict Moshe. This is not a big deal—until now. One who refuses to speak out when he sees something wrong is in no position to be a leader; and thus Aharon, too, demonstrates, via this incident, that he cannot lead the people into the Land of Israel.
A leader must in fact be ready to speak truth to power, and specifically to power; and Aharon being intimidated in the face of Moshe is a problem that manifests today in community leaders who are unwilling to follow Torah ideas to their particularly relevant conclusions today, for fear of making powerful people angry. We often hear discussions of avodah zarah, but discussion is usually limited to bowing down to statues, thinking they have power, as if we are stuck in a society millennia ago—and don’t even understand how the symbolism worked then. Few of our leaders are willing to discuss modern forms of avodah zarah, like socialism and progressivism, that replace Torah for so many Jews, both in Israel and in the West, for fear of “stirring the pot.” We discuss theft routinely as something the Torah forbids, but we limit our discussions to the private theft that is universally condemned, never discussing the much more relevant modern spiritual illness of our society that manifests in legalized, legitimized and organized mass extortion orchestrated by governments.
Those of whom leaders are afraid are generally not bad people—certainly Moshe, of whom Aharon is afraid, is not. In that moment, Moshe is simply mistaken, and Aharon’s silence spells tragedy. Similarly, those community members of whom leaders are afraid when they choose not to speak up (and we certainly are not comparing those community members to Moshe) are often good people who are recklessly and perilously mistaken. The silence of leaders in the face of relevant, modern issues can spell serious problems for us—and those leaders who choose articulation over popularity deserve our deepest respect.
Before we read the haftarah, we declare that God chose good neviim, and he wanted their words, said in truth. Our neviim are our best example of leaders who choose truth over popularity, and often speak scathingly—and pay the price. God chooses the Torah; and Moshe, his servant; and Israel, his nation; and neviim of truth and righteousness—ובנביאי האמת וצדק. When we hear this blessing said, let us think of proper contemporary definitions of terms, so that when we listen to the haftarah, we understand it in a way that applies to our society—no matter how much such an understanding may anger powerful people.
[1] Shmot 4:10
[2] Bamidbar 20:12
[3] Shmot 4:14-16
hindy
Michal
intomeaning
Neil Wernick