Education through the Lens of a Fledgling Leader, Moshe Rabbeinu

One would almost have to be insentient to not empathize with Moshe Rabbeinu in this week's Torah portion, Beshalach. Faced with inexorable complaints, Moshe, like so many other prophets who would prophesy in his wake, felt his life to be in danger - "In a moment's time," Moshe says to Hashem, "the masses will stone me to death."

Amongst all of the new rigors Moshe faces, he has to inculcate in the Jewish people, an immature nation with little solidarity and guiding light, a sense of faith in Hashem, and His ability to help the Jewish people at every turn. 

People's demands for water are answered. And then for food. But in the midst of the unfolding of these events, a very interesting vignette is related, bearing seemingly little importance, but which sheds great light on the onus of responsibility imposed on a Jewish leader. 

Moshe, through the virtue of his prayer and unmediated communication with Hashem, bestows upon the people the gift of heavenly bread, man or manna. Come Friday morning, the elders see that they - along with the rest of the nation - have received a double portion. The Midrash teaches that when a person was righteous, the manna would show up outside of his tent - and thus, presumably, on that very first Friday, it was a double portion that could be found there. (As a side note, the Midrash states that when a woman was adulterous, the following day her share of manna would appear outside of the tent of the man with whom she committed the infraction.)

The elders, as such, come to Moshe Rabbeinu, stating, "We've received a double portion," and then, Moshe Rabbeinu, has an epiphany, and says, "That is what Hashem was referring to when he shared with me the precepts of Shabbat." Just imagine, for a moment, the historical import of Moshe Rabbeinu for the first time understanding the significance and gravity of Shabbat; the elders have come to him, and only then does he realize what it means to not be able to cook on Shabbat. 

/Uncannily though, what seems all the more stark, is that thereafter, when some of the common folk fail to adhere to the precepts of Shabbat, Moshe Rabbeinu is blamed for being derelict in giving over the little he himself had learned from Hashem. 

"And the LORD said to Moses, “How long will you men refuse to obey My commandments and My teachings?" Rashi, in situ, states, "Hashem included Moshe when rebuking the Jewish people for not fulfilling His ordinances, because he procrastinated in not instructing the Jewish people sooner about the laws of Shabbat."

Everything that Moshe had done notwithstanding, from risking his own life in locking horns with Pharaoh, fleeing for his life, going through the travail of dealing with a mishap nation with little in the way of obedience to a chain of command, to being tried in the desert at every turn and corner, nonetheless, Hashem finds fault in Moshe's didactic and pedagogical orientation. For Moshe, says Hashem, were he to have instructed the Jewish people sooner, could perhaps have had more time to absorb the precepts of the Sabbath. They could have had more time to inquire as to the new laws and commands. Far be it from me to question the purpose of the Midrash, but I think that the salient point here is not the blame placed on Moshe Rabbeinu, but rather the sheer humility needed by a leader who is to be compassionate and loving in guiding Hashem's flock, the Jewish people. A leader can never absolve himself of blame, and in the delicate calculus of where blame is to be placed, it is the leader who needs to say, "I am at fault, I could have done better." Unlike Shaul, who blames the people for pressuring him to spare Amalek's livestock, Moshe goes to the opposite extreme and takes the opprobrium upon himself, even if undeserved, so as to spare the Jewish people of any semblance of sin in the eyes of the Almighty. 

Shabbat shalom,

Yoav