Religious Roles: Where Sharing Really is Caring

Parshat Naso

 by Rabbi Avi Billet

 The very last verse in our parsha comes after the concluding and summarizing statement of the sacrifices of the princes. And it seems totally out of place.

“When Moses came into the Communion Tent (Ohel Moed) to speak with [God], he would hear the Voice speaking to him from between the two cherubs on the ark cover over the Ark of Testimony. [God] thus spoke to him.” (7:29) 

 There has been no discussion of Moshe and the Ohel Moed. There was no indication of God’s presence communicating from the near the Ark. This little anecdote is coming out of left field.

 The Alshikh notes the odd placement, how this verse is not connected to what came before it nor to what follows it. “The Rabbis noted (in Tanchuma Behaalotkha 5) the connection between the next parsha and the dedication of the Mizbe’ach (altar). They said that Aharon was thinking and was hurt because all of the tribes had representatives bringing sacrifices and he hadn’t brought anything as a representative of Levi. And God told him, ‘Your portion is greater than theirs because B’haalotkha Et HaNerot (8:2) – when you light the candles – you are doing something none of them can do.’”

 With this background tale, the Alshikh notes, the verse about Moshe communicating with God in the Ohel Moed seems to only serves as an unnecessary interruption! God has to give an answer to Aharon based on what has just happened! Not based on Moshe’s ill-placed communication with the Divine!

 Rashi notes the strange format of the verb which describes God’s speech from between the cherubs. The word in the verse is “Mee-daber” (with the ‘chirik’ vowel) instead of “M’daber” (with the double-dotted shva na vowel) which indicates that God was speaking to Himself, and Moshe was allowed to listen in. 

Alshikh finds this problematic. Because it makes it seem as if Moshe does not belong there. Moreover, the verse says “Va’y’daber Eilav” (And He spoke to him), which indicates that God did speak to Moshe and wasn’t just ‘conversing’ with His own entity. The verse is also proof positive to Moshe’s humility. When he came to engage the Almighty in conversation, he was filled with trepidation and was unable to express anything without permission. That God spoke first indicated that God wanted to speak with Moshe as well. 

Now we can begin to understand why the verse about Moshe appears in between Aharon’s pain and Aharon’s vindication. Because Moshe was also a fine representative of the tribe of Levi. And Moshe had similar thoughts as his brother's, over the lack of Levite representation in the dedication of the Mizbe’ach. 

But Moshe did not complain! Before Moshe could even say anything, God would speak to him to show Moshe the special place he had, the special role he played. And that in life, there are other ways to fill what some may consider a lack in the fulfillment of their religious experiences.

 The verse comes to show us that Moshe and Aharon were in a similar boat in their wanting to be as close to God as the tribal leaders. And they just needed a reminder that what they had was pretty good. What they had was unique, a connection to God that no other individuals had.

 What Moshe and Aharon went through was not on the same level as the Korach tale. Moshe and Aharon always wanted to get closer and closer to God. But the tale of the princes was a very human lesson to Moshe and Aharon, that you don’t need to do it all.

 And, to their credit, Moshe and Aharon did not pull their “I’m the leader” card and bring sacrifices anyway. They didn’t inveigle themselves into a role that was not theirs by nature or by God-appointment.

 In shuls, these kinds of challenges come up all the time. Some shuls have a beautiful system in place in which gabbai roles are shared and rotated and the opportunities to lein and to lead the davening are rotated systematically in order to include as many people as possible (of course assuming that those who assume these roles are qualified and capable to fulfill these responsibilities admirably to the standards of the synagogue).

 And there are places where the same gabbai is gabbai for life (and will never give it up!), and where the same individual rushes to lead the davening or won’t give others the chance to lein at Shabbos mincha. Or where the Maftir Yonah is “owned” by a significant contributor, or certain specialty davenings are “always” led by the same person, or where the otherwise democratic nature of the synagogue is thrown away to satisfy the whims of a selfish individual. Former presidents keep all the keys they had in order not to relinquish an element of “power” held during those years of service. [These examples are culled from years of listening to tales from shul-goers I've met, from all around the country.]

 Moshe and Aharon teach us that people who are capable of leading and of taking on these roles should be able to be “sam’e’ach b’chelkam” (happy with their portion) and should find the strength to be “mevatrim” – people who give up the honors so others can have them. Because there is nothing more honorable or gracious than being able to say, “While I enjoy doing this, the right thing to do is to give someone else a chance. I don’t have to do everything.”

 May we find the strength (and create systems) to share responsibilities with others, and create wholesome shul environments in which jealousy and envy have no place because everyone is willing and ready to let another person have a chance to represent the congregation.