Questions of Character

Shemot 5778 / 6 January 2018

The first third of Exodus contains a lot of action, but the two main characters, Moses and Pharaoh, overshadow all else. In their first encounters with God, they each ask a question that defines their character and charts the course of their actions in the week to come. At the burning bush, after hearing God’s master plan for Israelite liberation, Moses asks, מִי אָנֹכִי כִּי אֵלֵךְ אֶל־פַּרְעֹה וְכִי אוֹצִיא אֶת־בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל מִמִּצְרָֽיִם,, “Who am I, to go to Pharaoh? And will I bring the children of Israel out of Egypt?”^[1] 

Pharaoh, for his part, responds to Moses’ initial demand with disdain: מִי ה’ אֲשֶׁר אֶשְׁמַע בְּקֹלוֹ לְשַׁלַּח אֶת־יִשְׂרָאֵל לֹא יָדַעְתִּי אֶת־ה’ וְגַם אֶת־יִשְׂרָאֵל לֹא אֲשַׁלֵּֽחַ, “Who is Adonai, that I should listen to his voice and send out Israel? I don’t know Adonai, nor will I send out Israel.”^[2] The questions — and the questioners — ultimately act as foils for one another. They reveal, particularly in contrast, fundamental differences in the men’s character, and when considered within the greater arc of the story also outline the Torah’s vision for moral leadership.

Few of the traditional commentaries have anything to say about Moses’ question, and those who do regard his doubt as almost self-evident. Pointing to a famous verse from the book of Numbers, they remind us, וְהָאִישׁ מֹשֶׁה עָנָיו מְאֹד מִכֹּל הָֽאָדָם אֲשֶׁר עַל־פְּנֵי הָֽאֲדָמָֽה, “The man Moses was the most humble person on the face of the earth.”^[3] Of course the most humble person would question his election as God’s prime representative on the most critical mission in Jewish history. But his dialogue with God suggests that there is something more at stake here than some homespun “aw shucks” modesty. The back-and-forth exchange betrays real uncertainty on Moses’ part: Who am I? What will I say? How will I handle their disbelief? What if I am not up to the task?

In one hasidic reading of the verse, Moses’ question, מִי אָנֹכִי, “Who am I,” emerges from a pressing desire to understand himself.^[4] It’s a genuine question: Moses knows that God must see something in him that justifies this weighty commission — but what? Literally five minutes ago, Moses was a diligent shepherd with a good, if unremarkable, job and a stable family life. Totally normal. Now God wants him to leave all that, go back to Egypt, where no too long ago he had a price on his head, and overturn the very foundations of society. Why me? 

Of course, Moses knows all the answers to this question. He asks, מִי אָנֹכִי, not because he lacks what it takes to lead but because he sees his unique ability to achieve God’s vision of justice and liberation — and that scares him. I’ve sometimes felt the same intense, swirling doubt, and I’m sure I’m not the only one here. Whenever we muster our talents and gifts, whenever we get ready to put ourselves out there, fear and self-doubt wells up from within.^[5] If Moses’ defining characteristic is his humility, that must be what God wants in the man who will face down Pharaoh. As we have discussed before, Moses’ humility had nothing to do with meek reticence. Instead, real humility shows up in our determination to do what we know is right no matter how fierce the opposition.^[6] 

Understanding Moses’ question as a reflection of his humility also helps us explain a strange turn at the end of his first conversation with God. Exasperated with Moses’ repeated attempts to dodge this mission — that’s the fear talking — God tells him, “Your brother Aaron can speak for you, and he’s already happily on the way.”^[7] This finally resolves Moses’ objections, but in what sense is Aaron’s availability as a spokesperson at all responsive to Moses’ question, מִי אָנֹכִי?

If we read their conversation as dealing with Moses’ key quality of humility, and his self-doubt in the face of a critical mission, it all makes sense. Aaron offers fellowship, a partner to stand by Moses’ side. It is as if God says to Moses, “If you don’t think you can do this alone, don’t — do it with someone else.” Aaron’s simple, loving presence accomplishes what all of God’s signs and wonders could not: Aaron gives Moses the strength to face his self-doubt. Confronting his doubts, in turn, gives Moses the power it will take to face Pharaoh and demand his people’s freedom.^[8]

Pharaoh’s question, מִי ה’ אֲשֶׁר אֶשְׁמַע בְּקֹלוֹ, “Who is Adonai, that I should listen to his voice,”^[9] presents us with the opposite character type. Whereas Moses recognizes and acknowledges God right away, but questions himself, Pharaoh betrays no doubt about himself but refuses to acknowledge God. Moses asked a genuine question, trying to understand himself better, while we can easily read Pharaoh’s words as a rhetorical challenge, not a genuine question at all. Indeed, Pharaoh supplies his own answer: לֹא יָדַעְתִּי אֶת־ה’, “I don’t know Adonai.” The pharaohs, like so many ancient rulers, saw themselves as divine beings, omnipotent and infallible.^[10] But ironically, Pharaoh’s confident bluster reveals a deeper insecurity. Not only does Pharaoh refuse God’s demand to set the Israelites free, he can’t even admit that God might be a counter-party in some negotiation. The ten plagues that follow represent a struggle for control, not only over the Israelites but over nature itself; and our most intense urges to control have less to do with managing the situation itself than with influencing what other people think of us.^[11] Pharaoh has built up a mask of divine omnipotence, and Moses’ brazen challenge reminds him just how thin that mask is.

Here, then, are the two paradigms of leadership presented in parashat Shemot: Moses, whose humility allows him to see his gifts but prompts intense self-doubt at the prospect of employing those gifts; and Pharaoh, whose outward power hides a bottomless insecurity. The story that follows will trace the divergent consequences of these types. Pharaoh’s arrogance grows in a fruitless attempt to compensate for his very real insecurity. As we all know, it will prove horribly self-destructive and will ultimately drag down his entire nation, destroying everything he sought to preserve. Moses, on the other hand, turns to his brother Aaron and to God as allies in facing down his fear. He recognizes that the roots of self-doubt lie in the same qualities that prompt his election as God’s messenger, and he tackles those doubts head-on. He grows, parshah by parshah, into the greatest prophet and leader the Jewish people have ever known. He builds a strong nation out of a tumultuous band of downtrodden refugees, and establishes liberty and dignity as core human values for all time. Both men question their worthiness; the difference lies in how they respond to their own questions.

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Tags: humility, Leadership, Moses