Leadership Qualities

Parshas Chukas

Posted on June 28, 2023 (5783) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

He brought down the wrath of Heaven on Egypt until Pharaoh agreed to let the Jewish people go. He led them out to freedom. He parted the sea and led them through. He brought them to the foot of Mount Sinai to receive the Torah. He guided them through the desert for forty years. But at the last moment, when they stood poised on the threshold of the Promised Land, his leadership came to an end. Moses passed away without stepping a foot into the Promised Land.

 

Why wasn’t Moses granted the privilege of entering the Promised Land to which he had labored so diligently to bring the people?

 

We find the answer in this week’s Torah portion. After Miriam died, the miraculous well from which the people had slaked their thirst in the desert vanished, and they were left without water. They maligned Moses for taking them from the gardens of Egypt into an arid wasteland. Hashem told Moses to assemble the people and speak to the rock, which would then give forth water. Moses called the people together. “Listen, you rebels,” he declared angrily. “Can water come out of this rock?” Then he struck the rock with his staff and water flowed. But Moses had erred. Instead of speaking to the rock, he had struck it. And for this, Hashem decreed that Moses would not enter the Promised Land.

 

Let us now look for a moment at the Torah reading of Devarim, where Moses is reviewing the events of the previous forty years in his parting words to the Jewish people. He reminds them of how the people had responded to the slanders spread by the spies upon their return from the land of Canaan, and how Hashem had decreed that the entire generation would die in the desert and only their children would enter the Promised Land. “Hashem was also infuriated with me because of you,” Moses concluded, “saying, `You too will not arrive there.'” It would seem, therefore, that Moses was barred from entering the Promised Land because of the sin of the spies, not because of the sin of striking the rock. How do we account for this apparent contradiction?

 

The commentators explain that Moses had originally been exempt from the decree barring the Jewish people from entering the Promised Land because of the sins of the spies. As a leader of the Jewish people, he was in a class by himself.

 

He was not integrated into the body of the common people. He was not driven by their motivations or influenced by their social currents. Although he was always sensitive to their needs, his thoughts, convictions and motivations were never controlled by the ebb and flow of public opinion. Therefore, since he was not really one of them, he did not have to share the unfortunate fate of the people when they erred and sinned.

 

But at the incident of the rock, Moses lost his immunity to public opinion. No longer aloof and remote in his decision making, he flared at the Jewish people. “Listen, you rebels!” he cried in anger. He allowed the people to get to him, and as a result, he struck the rock instead of speaking to it, in disobedience of Hashem’s command. Therefore, he no longer deserved to be considered in a class by himself, and he shared the fate of the people who were barred from the Promised land because of the sin of the spies.

 

A man once asked a great sage for his opinion of some popular political leaders.

 

“They are like dogs,” he replied.

 

The man was puzzled. “Like dogs? Why?”

 

“Very simple,” said the great sage. “When a man walks down the street with his dog, the dog always runs ahead, yapping excitedly.

 

But when he gets to the corner, he doesn’t know which way to turn. So he stands and waits for his master to catch up. Once his master chooses the new direction, the dogs is off and running once again. These leaders you mentioned have no opinions or convictions of their own. They sniff the air to discover in which direction the wind is blowing, and then they are off and running. Some leaders!”

 

In our own lives, we are called upon to act as leaders, whether in the broader community, our immediate circles or simply in our own families for our children. Everything we do sets an example for others and influences them at least to some extent. But in order to be true leaders, we must have the courage and integrity to follow our own convictions. We must have the fortitude to live spiritually rather than cave in to the pressure of the fashionable materialistic trends. Despite the decadence of our society, or perhaps because of it, there is a latent thirst for spirituality among the people around us. If we live by our convictions, we can have a part in bringing that thirst into the open and literally change the world.

 

Text Copyright © 2010 by Rabbi Naftali Reich and Torah.org.

Rabbi Reich is on the faculty of the Ohr Somayach Tanenbaum Education Center.

Reflecting on G-d

Parshas Chukas Balak

Posted on June 28, 2023 (5783) By Rabbi Moshe Peretz Gilden | Series: Kol HaKollel | Level: Beginner

With the Jewish people complaining of thirst, Moshe and Aaron retreated to the Tabernacle for Divine guidance. They were instructed to speak to a specific rock and it would provide the needed water. Moshe inadvertently spoke to the wrong rock, and, lacking an alternative approach, chose to employ a tactic G-d instructed him to use in an earlier circumstance: hitting the rock (see Rashi, Bamidbar/Numbers 20:11). G-d, in his infinite compassion, allowed the water to flow forth from the rock, but Moshe and Aaron were chastised and punished. “Because you did not believe in Me to sanctify Me in the eyes of the Children of Israel, therefore you will not bring this congregation to the Land I have given them.” (20:12) Bringing forth water from a rock in the middle of a desert is quite a miracle. In what way did Moshe diminish the honor of G-d?

 

Rabbi Yosef Albo (1380-1444; Rabbi of Saragossa, Spain and later Castille; proficient in medicine, mathematics and philosophy and famous for his religio-philisophical work Sefer HaIkkarim/Book of Principles) explains that one branch of the belief in Divine Providence is the understanding that G-d bends nature to the will of righteous believers. As the need arises, they have the ability to pray for a miracle and G-d grants their wish. Tanach (the Bible) is replete with incidents of prophets and great individuals in Jewish history who performed miracles. Here, too, Moshe should have prayed for a miracle from the outset and not withdrawn to the Tabernacle.

 

Meshech Chochmah (Rabbi Meir Simcha HaKohen of Dvinsk; 1843-1926; foremost Torah scholar of his time) elucidates that throughout Moshe’s leadership of the Jewish people G-d determined when it was appropriate to utilize a miracle – in contrast to later prophets who announced that a miracle would occur and G-d responded by fulfilling their call. Moshe chose a different modus operandi because of his humility. Whereas other prophets would physically tremble when they were receiving their prophesy, making it readily evident that the forthcoming miracle was coming from a higher power, G-d communicated with Moshe as a person speaks to his friend. Without the visible tremoring, Moshe feared the masses would believe the miracles actually came from him, as if he possessed some Divine power, so he always requested Divine assistance and let G-d formulate the method to address the quandary.

 

The exception to Moshe’s rule was the events involving Korach in last week’s parsha. When Korach rebelled and publicly questioned the legitimacy of his leadership, Moshe proclaimed that a miracle would happen and G-d opened the earth, which swallowed Korach and his co-conspirators, just as Moshe had stated. Moshe broke his own rule because the situation mandated a display of his spiritual greatness and the intimacy of his relationship with G-d – to demonstrate G-d’s endorsement of his leadership.

 

Now, Moshe reverted to his original practice. But the nation now knew that he had the ability to call for miracles, and, not appreciating the unique nature of the Korach situation, they questioned why he was only willing to do so for the sake of his leadership but not for the Jewish people at a time of distress. Moshe’s decision to not openly call upon the rock to give water at a time that the needs of the masses mandated such a miracle desecrated the Divine name, a great dishonor to G-d.

 

We are all leaders – as teachers, as parents and even as peers. We must appreciate that our actions are watched and interpreted – even misinterpreted – reflecting on us and, more significantly, as Jews, reflecting on the Jewish people and on G-d.

 

Have a good Shabbos!

 The Seesaw Principle

Parshas Balak

Posted on July 1, 2020 (5780) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. This was apparently the philosophy of Balak, King of Moab, when he was faced with the vast multitude of the Jewish people approaching his lands. Terror stricken, he sent messengers to summon Bilam, the famous sorcerer, to come to Moab and curse the Jewish people.

 

Balak led Bilam to a high promontory from which they saw the entire Jewish encampment. Balak gleefully rubbed his hands together in anticipation of Bilam’s potent curses, but to his astonishment, blessings rather than curses poured forth from Bilam’s mouth.

 

Frustrated, Balak took Bilam to a different vantage point from which he could only see the edge of the encampment. Once again, Balak implored Bilam to curse the Jewish people, and once again, he could only speak blessing rather then curses.

 

Finally, Bilam turned to face the Wilderness and managed to utter some vague, ineffectual curses.

 

The commentators are puzzled. Why did Bilam repeatedly narrow his focus on the Jewish people after each failure to curse them?

 

A quick look into this week’s Torah portion brings Bilam’s character into sharp relief. His most striking features were his bloated ego and his insatiable hunger for flattery. People seeking constant self aggrandizement generally tend to disparage and humiliate others. Whether consciously or subconsciously, they feel superior only when they diminish other people. By putting others down, their own egos are by contrast inflated. They view life like a seesaw, with themselves on one side and the world on the other. If the other side goes down, they go up.

 

Balak understood this aspect of Bilam’s character, and he played on it. At first, he brought Bilam to a point where he could see the entire people. If Bilam could curse and disparage an entire people, what a surge his ego would enjoy. But he was unsuccessful. Conceding failure, he narrowed his focus to only part of the people, concentrating on individuals in the hope that their shortcomings would be more glaring. Once again he was unsuccessful, and therefore, he narrowed his focus even more by cursing the people even though he was unable to highlight any particular fault. But even these curses were ineffectual, because Hashem protects the righteous.

 

Two businessmen were once sitting in a bar, discussing the state of the world.

 

“You know,” said the first man, “if you really think about it, there are really only two classes of people in the world – our countrymen and foreigners. And we both know that all foreigners are totally worthless.”

 

“Of course,” said the second man. “But even among our countrymen there is clear division into two classes. The city dwellers and the peasants.”

 

“Exactly,” said the first man. “And we both know that peasants are worse than useless. Only city dwellers are worth anything at all. But even among city dwellers, there are two classes – intellectuals and businessmen.”

 

“I totally agree,” said the second man. “Intellectuals are pointy headed fools. Totally useless. Only businessmen have any worth.”

 

“But not all businessman are worthy,” said the first man. “Plenty of them are nothing more than bumbling fools.”

 

“I agree,” said the second man. “In fact, if you really think about it. You can probably rule out just about every businessman on one count or another. I guess, that just leaves us with me and you, my friend.”

 

“Exactly,” said the first man, “and just between you and me, we both know perfectly well that you’re nothing but a windbag.”

 

In our own lives, we may sometimes find ourselves bring inadvertently critical of other people or even entire ethnic or racial groups. Perhaps we would do well to look into ourselves to find the source of these sentiments. Why in the world should we be flirting with mean spiritedness and bigotry? Why should we be so eager to highlight other people’s flaws?

 

More likely than not, these are signs of latent insecurities which mistakenly lead us to think we can secure ourselves better by undermining others. In actuality, however, tearing other people down only diminishes and demeans us, while looking at them in a positive light enhances our spirits and brings us the serenity and satisfaction of recognizing our own true worth.