Looking for the Right Person

Looking for the Right Person

Shemot 2013/ 5773

Rabbi Charlie Savenor

When companies have a high-level position to fill, they frequently employ head hunters to locate the
right person for the job. If we were given the task of finding the right person to serve as the leader
of the Children of Israel during the Exodus, what type of qualities would we look for?

The job description for this executive position might read as follows: “This person must be
confident, charismatic, wise, vibrant, patient, creative and intelligent. It is preferred that s/he has
experience in public relations and wilderness economics. Public speaking is a must.”

While these characteristics are what we might expect of a leader, in this week’s Parsha God makes a
surprising selection. His candidate of choice is Moses, a man who is temperamental, easily
discouraged, and somewhat impatient.
 
If this wasn’t bad enough, Moses makes it clear on several occasions that he doesn’t even want the
position. When approached by God to lead the Children of Israel out of slavery, Moses raises
several reasons why God should choose someone else. He says, “Please, Lord, I am not a man of
words, either in the past or now when you have spoken to me. I am slow of speech and slow of
tongue.” (Exodus 4:10)
 
In essence, Moses confides that his problem lies not with the message, but with the messenger.
Traditional and modern scholars have been fascinated by Moses’ self-depiction as khevad peh v’kaved lashon: slow of speech and slow of tongue. This is usually interpreted as stuttering. Rashi and several other traditional commentators embrace a literal interpretation of the text. According to their view, Moses had a speech impediment. In fact, some go so far as to try and pinpoint which sounds represented the greatest challenge to Moses.

Some modern commentators suggest that Moses declines the invitation to lead because he is neither
skilled in the arena of political debate, nor is he what we might consider a charismatic speaker. In
Moses and Monotheism, Sigmund Freud asserts that Moses’ objection, and the need for Aaron as an
interpreter, allude to the fact that “Moses was an Egyptian.”(Pg.38) According to Freud, Moses does not utilize Aaron as an interpreter with Pharaoh, but rather as a tool for connecting with the Children of Israel.
 
As described above, when Moses speaks of his slow speech, one of the Hebrew words used to
describe it is khaved peh. In the coming Torah portions when “Pharaoh hardens his heart,” the Torah
employs the expression “vehakhbaed et lebo.” (Exodus 8:11)

One simple word, kaved, which means heavy or encumbered, lays out the political tension and real
communication problem between Moses and Pharaoh. A man with difficulty in speaking attempts to
get through to a man who will not listen and is indifferent to human suffering.

We might assume that God wants an eloquent speaker and someone who feels ready and eager to
assume a leadership role. But instead, Moses – hesitant, scared and almost the epitome of a broken
vessel – is chosen. In addition to his humility and wisdom, God chooses Moses because of his
imperfections. The irony of the story is that God accepts Moses as he is. It is Moses who needs to
learn to accept himself. Ultimately, Moses was able to be a leader in spite of his limitations.
 
Our world today continues to be challenged by pharaohs with hardened hearts and modern-day
“plagues,” both natural and manmade. The amount of tikkun – healing – that our society and our
global community demands is daunting. Like Moses, we can easily feel dwarfed by the mission
ahead.
 
It is precisely when the task seems so large that we need to remember that Moses’ inadequacies and
hesitations did not hold him back from being a leader. In fact, when exposed firsthand to injustice
and cruelty, he takes immediate action without stopping to consider the personal ramifications. (Exodus 2:11-12)

From this week’s parsha, we learn that the type of leadership needed to transform the world cannot
easily be captured in a job description. We are all like Moses in that each of us has our own faults
and shortcomings. Similarly, each of us has a unique contribution to make – to our communities, to
society, to the world – if only we learn to accept ourselves as we are.


This Dvar Torah originally appeared in 2006 in The American Jewish World Service parsha series.

Honoring The Mandate of Eden - Genesis 2012

Jewish tradition fundamentally views human beings as the crown jewel of all creation.  As we read this week in Parashat Bereishit, God separated human beings from animals by giving us the ability not just to reason, and speak, but also to dream and imagine. From the dawn of civilization, we have possessed the power to create art to express our dreams, theories to test our minds and philosophies to challenge our souls. As our civilization and technology progressed, our imagination and artistic ability have kept pace.

Abraham Joshua Heschel, a philosopher and civil rights advocate, believed deeply in the ability and power of humanity to affect change in our world. However, he writes: “Our concern is not how to worship in the catacombs, but how to remain human in the skyscrapers.”  Heschel asserts that science may enable humankind to reach new heights, even to reach the moon, but these advances also run the risk of alienating us from others and from ourselves.

The daily headlines from around the globe of unbridled hatred, murder, greed, and abused trust from communal leaders give the impression that our world is unraveling, knot by knot. We, as human beings, may have come quite far in the field of science, but human civilization, it can be argued, has lagged behind in the realm of spiritual and ethical development.

How can it be that we have become so advanced technologically, yet remain cavemen in a quest for ethical fire?

The challenges facing contemporary society are not new. From the moment God invests Adam and Eve with their mandate to rule over the natural world, we learn that humanity’s moral and ethical trajectory is uncertain.

In Genesis 1:26 “God says: ‘Na’aseh Adam Betzalmaynu Keedmootaynu V’yirdu … Al Ha’aretz,’ “Let’s make man in the divine image ...  And humanity (“V’yirdu”) will rule over the earth and all wildlife.”  The potential for temptation and internal conflicts of interests are intimated in the directive itself, in the very word indicating the command for leadership, namely “V’yirdu”. Every Hebrew word has a three letter root, yet this fascinating word, “V’yirdu” could be derived from two different sources, either Resh, Daled, Hay, which means to dominate, or Yod, Resh, Daled, which means to go down.

This puzzling textual anomaly catches the eye of Rashi, our greatest Torah scholar.  He comments: “If mankind is worthy, then he will dominate over the beasts. If humanity is not worthy, then they will sink lower than the beasts, and the animal kingdom will rule over them.” Rashi’s insightfully shows how this one word reveals the slippery slope on which humanity finds itself not only in Gan Eden, but throughout time.

In light of these enormous, timeless challenges, what can we do today to fulfill God’s mandate for humankind?

There is no one magic solution to the questions we pose today.  In the book, There Is No Messiah … And You’re It, Rabbi Robert N. Levine contends that “The real world is a messy, complicated place, where there are many hard questions, no easy answers, and lots of work to do.  But inside all of us is the capacity to live up to the potential given to us as human beings created in God’s image.”

Embracing a life imbued with kedusha is the first step. Kedusha, in my opinion, means more than just being "holy"; it challenges us to transcend our instincts. “Kedushim Teheeyoo!”  The Torah implores us to be more than we are; to think beyond our needs; to care about the poor, the orphan, and the widow; and even to love our neighbor across the street as much as the stranger we have never met. Kedusha enables us to honor the mandate of Eden.

By striving for kedusha, we imagine a world where honesty, integrity, justice, and freedom can take root and blossom. By living a life of kedusha, we create meaning in our lives and those around us. Ultimately, kedusha links us to Gan Eden and represents the key to humanity's returning there one day.

Shabbat Shalom!