Filling Gaps on Moshe's Formative Years

Parshat Shmot

by Rabbi Avi Billet

With the new movie “Exodus: Gods and Kings” in theaters, the story of Moshe is being revisited by Hollywood once again, creating what could most positively be described as a modern Midrash. On the negative side, this new interpretation makes nary an effort at presenting this tale from any perspective based in Jewish sources, beyond a very loose adherence to the original Biblical account.

            

While the depiction of the plagues in Egypt is always fascinating on film, the motivation behind the punishment aimed at both Everyman Egyptian and the House of Pharaoh always leaves something unsaid. And while the human element of it all – did the Egyptians deserve what came upon them? – is touching, it is very hard to tap into the true feelings of the Israelites for the Egyptian citizenry and vice versa when considering that we simply don’t know, beyond that their cries reached heaven (2:23-25), how the Israelites felt in all their slavery and suffering. They certainly pine for and long for a return to Egypt many times in the books of Shmot and Bamidbar.

            

We do see that Moshe’s missive was originally embraced (4:31), but when the labor almost immediately became more intense with the cessation of the provision of straw for the bricks, Moshe quickly fell into disfavor (5:21)

            

Unlike in this latest film installment, there is very little indication in the text that Moshe was planning an armed revolt against Egypt (though one interpretation of 13:18 is that they left Egypt armed for battle). The Torah’s view is very clear that God intends to fight this battle, and that the end result for the Nation of Israel is to understand Who their God is as He demonstrates His wonders against the Egyptian oppressors, who took their role as slavemasters far beyond anything ever intended by the Covenant Between the Pieces (Bereshit 15:13-14).

            

The biggest challenge film adaptations face in terms of storyline is in filling the gap of Moshe’s formative years. With rare exception, none do it justice. And while this film has Moshe spending several years in Midian tending Yitro’s flock, marrying Zipporah, and raising Gershom, the numbers still don’t add up when we see the Torah clearly telling us Moshe was 80 when he approached Pharaoh (7:7). And where o where is the strange hotel incident? (4:24-26)

            

Everyone agrees he was a young man when he left Egypt as a fugitive for having killed an Egyptian. His age range at that time, as referenced in conflicting Midrashim, is upper teenager to 40 years old, leaving any retelling to fill in a 40 to over 60 year gap in his development. How does he change from being a Prince of Egypt, perhaps even a great warrior, to becoming a shepherd in Midian, and a worthy soul of experiencing a vision of the Divine, hearing a prophetic calling, and becoming God’s shepherd, to tend the flock that we call the Nation of Israel?

            

There is a book entitled “Divrei Hayamim Shel Moshe” (Chronicles of Moshe), which is cited by a number of great commentators. Ibn Ezra claims the book is bunk (see comments below). With that air of cynicism hanging above us, Rashbam, Targum Yonatan, Daat Zekenim, Abravanel, Rabbi Chaim Paltiel and others quote it, and many of us are familiar with some of the tales that appear in it referencing Moshe’s early life in Egypt. One of its tales describes how Moshe lived, and actually ruled, in the Land of Cush for 40 years, symbolically marrying the Queen, former wife of King Nikanos, though he (Moshe) lived separately from her throughout his reign. (They claim Miriam was referring to this incident in Bamidbar 12:1, while many commentaries say there that the “Cushite woman” refers to Zipporah, while still others (most notably Yosef Ibn Caspi) suggest Moshe had taken a second wife at that time – either in addition to Zipporah, or after his first marriage ended, either through divorce (their children are referred to as “her sons” in Shmot 18:3) or through her death.) [See a thorough treatise on this here]

            

Abravanel paints Moshe as fathering Gershom at the age of 70, while the account of Moshe’s earlier years in Otzar HaMidrashim claims Yitro, who noted Moshe was a fugitive from Egypt, actually imprisoned Moshe for 7 years – during which time Zipporah fed him daily and he developed his relationship with God. After he was released he earned the right to marry Zipporah, and Gershom was born when Moshe was 77.

            

Giving Moshe so much more history may even help us understand better why his first son is named Gershom. The Torah’s explanation is that he said, “I was/have been a ‘ger’ (stranger) in a strange land (the Hebrew ‘sham’ means ‘there’).” The question is: in which strange land was Moshe a stranger? Egypt? Cush? Somewhere else in Moshe’s travels? Midian?

            

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the Torah’s depiction of Moshe’s introduction to Yitro’s daughters comes after shepherds have “VayGarshum” (2:17) ויגרשם (chased them away) from the well. Perhaps Moshe’s luck in connecting with Yitro’s daughters at that time remained in his head, and inspired his naming his son גרשם. “I was a stranger. I had been a stranger. But since that moment I’ve been accepted. And I am no longer a stranger.” Perhaps Moshe's response to the act of those shepherds reminded him of why he felt so comfortable in this place. 

            

This realization on his part adds another dimension to our understanding of his background and development.

While filmmakers (and even some Midrashim) try to create a human story to fit the narrative, the story remains incomplete without the traditional interpretations and lessons that our heritage has passed along to us. With more complete study and deeper delving into all our questions, may we only merit to achieve qualitative understanding of the development of our People, our faith, and the Nation of Israel.

How Moshe Became a "Man" - איש

Parshat Shmot

by Rabbi Avi Billet

It was the great sage Hillel who said (Avot 2:5), "In a place where there are no men, try to be a man."
במקום שאין אנשים השתדל להיות איש
The sentiment of the phrase doesn't lend itself to be reformulated to gender-neutral terminology, so I apologize in advance to those who find it offensive.

Nonetheless, I think an understated message from this phrase can help us understand the first real episode in the life of Moshe, when he controls his own destiny.

Rashi notes that in the verse when he is returned to the daughter of Pharaoh, and in the verse which follows (2:10-11) he is described as growing twice (ויגדל). First, "The boy grew," then "Moshe grew." Rashi quotes Rabbi Yehuda who explained that the first "growth stage" was to achieve his physical stature in height, while the second "growth stage" was for greatness, because Pharaoh had appointed him over his house.

         
A closer look at the text may help us understand in what way Moshe truly comes of age in his first venture outside the palace.

         
Moshe grew and went out to his brothers to see their labors. He saw an Egyptian man hitting a Hebrew man from his brethren. He looked here and there and saw there was no man. So he struck the Egyptian and hid him in sand.

         
He went out on the second day and behold two men were squabbling and he said to the wicked one, "Why do you strike your neighbor?"

         
And he (the wicked one) said, "Who made you the Man, the officer and judge over us? Will you kill me as you killed the Egyptian?" (2:11-14)

         
The Egyptian (in 2:12) is no longer a "man" and the Hebrew (according to those who say it was the same person Moshe had saved the day before) is now wicked – also not a man. (Or HaChaim points to the fact that they (in 2:13) are not even called "from his brothers" as the victim in 2:11 had been called). The Alshich rightly notes this phenomenon as he expresses Moshe's confusion: just as the Egyptian is not a man and may be worthy to lose his life, the Hebrew is not a man and will tattle. Moshe takes the risk and kills the Egyptian, and of course the other non-man does the unmanly deed of informing on Moshe.

         
If we follow the storyline of Moshe's life, we will see him soon being called a man (according to one interpretation) by the daughter's of Yitro (2:19), and by their father when he inquires as to "the man's" whereabouts. (2:20) [Incidentally, Moshe chooses to stay with "the man" – Yitro – who by every account was principled and therefore a suitable father in law.]

Towards the end of the plagues all of Egypt will see him as "the man Moshe." (11:3) The entire Israelite nation will call him a man when he does not return from Sinai (32:1,23) and of course God calls him a man when He describes him as being the humblest of men. (Bamidbar 12:3) At the end of his life not only is he a man, but he is an Ish HaElokim – a Man of God. (Devarim 33:1)

     
Even his protégé's storyline has similar hints. At first Yehoshua is a lad (Shmot 33:11). And when he is anointed to be the next leader he is a "man who has spirit in him." (Bamidbar 27:18)

         
Ramban describes his initial growth as Moshe here as "His becoming a man of knowledge" (Ish Da'at). Upon learning of his Hebrew identity, he wanted to know more about it.

         
As Malbim put it, "Moshe's righteousness began in his youth – he had all the requisite qualities to be a leader. Even though he was raised in the palace of the king, raised to view the Isrealites as lowly slaves, he still viewed their circumstance as unjust. They were his brothers. This is the exact opposite of human nature, that when individuals rise to prominence they tend to ignore their brothers – the poor and destitute."

The Ktav V'Hakaballah asks how could Moshe be a vigilante in such a way? Was the Egyptian deserving of death just for beating the Hebrew? It seems that if the Egyptian was not letting up, and might have killed the Hebrew, he'd be in the category of Rodef, a pursuer, who is attempting to kill someone. In halakha, a Rodef is classified as "ain lo damim" – he has no blood. In other words, he is already considered dead because he is no longer a man. (Midrash Aggadah)

At the same time, Malbim expresses that we should not assume Moshe did this as an act of passion and without a thought process. He did look here and there to see if there was any person – and he saw there was no man, which lowered his own risk in taking action.

       
However one looks at the story, it seems clear that a major difference lies in who is considered to be a man in the story. Some people are assumed to be men until they prove otherwise, and Moshe grows to be a man – to fulfill the dictum of Hillel with which we started.

         
Of course, this isn't really surprising, considering that Moshe's existence was brought about by a "Man from the house of Levi" who defied the immoral law of the king that condemned all boys to a rivery grave in order to father the boy who would become the deliverer.

         
Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch looked at Moshe's hesitation – the need to see there was no man around to witness his deed – and taught, "He [was] deeply imbued with a sense of duty to rush to the aid of an innocent person who is oppressed… but hotheaded reckless risking of one's life is foreign to him; he [was] far from the fiery daring that is required to lead a great multitude [ ] to freedom from the tyrant's yoke… It would not even occur to him to become the savior and leader of his people. The element of desire to become a historical hero was entirely lacking in him."

         
And yet, he managed it so finely, and became the greatest model of teacher and leader of all time. How? Because "In a place where there are no men, try to be a man." He tried very hard. It was duly noted every step of the way. And he achieved the greatest levels of "being a Man" that anyone could achieve – where first God noticed it in the form of Moshe's humility, and in the end God called him "A Man of God."