How Moshe Rabbenu Dealt With Challenge

This is the sermon I prepared but did not deliver as our shul made the difficult decision to close a few hours before Shabbos. I did not edit it to reflect on our eventual reality. 

Shabbos - Ki Sisa/Parah

Rabbi Avi Billet

This is a strange time for the world, and of course for the Jewish people. 

As I noted last week, with the cancellation of many events, and now with the cancellation of sports seasons (for the time being), the stock market tanking, and everyone shutting down to – if not self quarantine, then to minimize interactions with people – one wonders when this will end. 

 Is this the new normal? Or will we return to the way things were? 

Schools are closing, shuls are closing, people in Israel are canceling their trips abroad to avoid having to undergo 14-day quarantines (which is why Rabbi Grunstein will likely be cancelling for March 28) 

Thursday and Friday were the most difficult day I’ve ever experienced as a rabbi. Phone calls, text messages, emails, whatsapp. Everyone has an opinion, and everyone is sure that what they propose is the right thing. 

And to each person I said, “OK. You’re in my shoes. What do you do?” Then the answers are not as simple. We consulted with members of our shul who are doctors and have their nose to the ground on what’s going on. We heeded their advice. We are not serving food. We are spreading people around. And we are encouraging all the sanitizing etc that we can. 

We want people to be safe. But we also don’t assume that everyone is infected. Such an attitude is what is tearing people apart and destroying a certain manner of whatever we call a social construct. We’ve encouraged those who are uncomfortable to stay home. Before the Coronavirus came around, everyone was aware that living in the world carries risk in every activity we undertake. We usually ignore the risk because we want to live our lives. This current “risk,” however, has caused many people to fear on a much higher level than other risks. And that is totally understandable. 

A friend of mine who is a doctor told me that he was involved in an online discussion regarding one of the schools – in which he said all the doctors said “No need to close the school” and all the non-doctor parents said “WE HAVE TO CLOSE THE SCHOOL.” 

Will the level-headed thinking-doctors prevail in that case? Or will the much louder fear-induced people prevail? I don’t know. Though by Friday, especially after the OU sent out their recommendations, it sounded like every school was gearing up for a shut down. 

These are difficult decisions. And no matter what you decide people are going to disagree, and in some cases disagree very strongly or loudly. Each of us has the opportunity to control how we are going to react. And sometimes we react with our emotions, and sometimes we react with our minds. And sometimes we react with our hearts. 

There is a story about Rabbi Aryeh Levine – it’s in the Book “A Tzaddik in Our Time.” There was a young man with tuberculosis who needed a place to sleep. Rabbi Aryeh Levine brought him into his own house, even though he had little kids in the house. His rebbetzin slept in the kitchen, while Reb Aryeh put the young man very close to his own bed, so he could be available to tend to this man’s needs. 

How many people would do that – especially in a time when tuberculosis was one of the most deadly diseases known to man. During the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, tuberculosis (TB) was the leading cause of death in the United States, and one of the most feared diseases in the world. 

We have to pray for ourselves, for our community, for the world. And we have to remember that we put our trust in the Ribbono Shel Olam. We do our part, which includes upping our hygiene, paying more careful attention to when we get ill, and it might also include isolation, and the rest is up to Him. 

It is certainly not a disease, but the tale of the Golden Calf is an incredibly timely example of how leadership was faced with a tremendous challenge – perhaps we can even call it a crisis. 

Moshe Rabbenu’s life has reached a point we cannot contemplate – he’s been having a chavrusa with the Almighty for close to 6 weeks. He hasn’t consumed any food during this time. He’s in a space – emotionally, spiritually, perhaps even physically – that we can’t relate to in any way. 

And then the bubble bursts and he is brought down to reality. And reality is that there is something terrible going on at the bottom of the mountain. Something which has God contemplating the deaths of millions of people. Something for which Moshe needs to intervene, then take action, then put an end to the crisis. 

Many of you know the story. But here it is. 

Moshe is going to come down the mountain, with Luchos in hand, he’s going to witness that which God told him is going on, people dancing and reveling in front of a Golden Calf, he’s going to throw down the Luchos, shattering them into pieces, he is going to destroy the Eigel, chastise his brother Aharon, and then shout out, מי לה' אלי! Whoever is for God, come and join me! 

And then he’s essentially going to preside over the killing of 3,000 people – the worst of the bunch, the worst perpetrators of the idolatrous deed. And through that he is going to save the millions that God has threatened to destroy. 

Will that get rid of the problem? Unfortunately not. Judaism has changed forever. We will always have the golden calf hiding in the shadows. The Kohen Gadol couldn’t walk into the Holy of Holies wearing gold, because it’s a reminder of the Golden Calf. 

The Parah Adumah, of which we read this morning, is supposed to be an atonement for the Golden Calf – as Rashi put it – just as we tell the maid to clean up her child’s mess, let the mother cow come in and atone for the sin of the calf. 

Were it a one time deal, the mitzvah of Parah Adumah would have only been for a single time in history. But we still have a mitzvah to read it, which means that its purpose is still relevant, even so many thousands of years later. 

Why Moshe had to have those 3,000 people executed is a difficult question. Ramban simply paints it as a “Hora’as Sha’ah” which came from God, though the final number were people who were found guilty based on the evidence of what is called עדים והתראה. There were witnesses who had issued a warning, and these people worshipped the calf anyway. 

I won’t pretend to know or understand the ways of God. There was clearly a gezeirah min hashamayim, and there are many people who have died in a short time in China, Italy, Iran, and around the world. 

What did the world do? I don’t know. What could we be doing differently or better? I don’t know. 

Medical experts are weighing in, and efforts are being made to stem the transmission of a virus – it has been sequenced, we know what it is, what it looks like, mostly how it is transmitted, but there is still much uncertainty. 

How long will it last? How many people need to die? Is this the beginning of the end of the world as we know it? I don’t think so. I am on the optimistic side of things and believe that we will make our way through this, and see a light at the end of the tunnel soon. 

On the other hand, what if this has created a new normal? What if, like the Golden Calf, it will always be lurking in the background? What does it mean for humanity? 

Two things changed in the aftermath of the Golden Calf. Moshe was forced to remove his tent from being among the people. And when Moshe came down the mountain with the second set of tablets, his face is described as קרן עור פניו. His face was luminous. He was required to put a mask on his face because people could not look at him. 

Moshe would communicate with God, he’d transmit God’s word to the people, and then he’d put on the mask. When he communed with God again, he’d take the mask off. He’d share God’s message with the people. And then he’d put the mask on again for one-on-one contact with the people. 

The point is not to cover Moshe’s face when he is communicating with the people in a public fashion. Then his face can be luminous. And maybe the people can’t look at him anyway. But it’s when he needs to communicate with people face to face, one on one, that he has to wear this mask. 

I could imagine that for Moshe, during the period he wore this mask, that he experienced much isolation. His tent had been taken outside the camp. He could not live among the people. And what did he do during that time? He spoke to people, the few who came out to him. He spent a lot of time by himself. He thought about his role, the job he had done so far, the job he still had to do. He contemplated the future. For himself, and for his people. 

In our case today, we have been forced by things beyond our control to mask ourselves (I am speaking metaphorically), to hide ourselves, to not get too close to one another. It’s obviously very different than the circumstances surrounding Moshe’s experiences, but there are a lot of similarities. 

Perhaps there’s an element of blessing in considering isolation or quarantining. We can give ourselves time to think. To ask ourselves important questions about what is important to us? What do we want to achieve in our remaining years? What are our relationships like? Can they be improved upon? How can we actualize those improvements, those shifts in thinking and practice? 

Putting on our own masks (again, metaphorically) can be the greatest blessing – a time of serious contemplation. Who knows? Maybe even the creation of a new sense of purpose! Hashem should bless us all to be well. This Machala should end its spread around the globe. Everyone should have a refuah shleimah. And Im Yirtzeh Hashem, life should soon resume to the normalcy we all currently pine for. 

I want to conclude with a letter that was forwarded to me. It gave me chizuk, and I hope it gives you chizuk too. It was written by Rabbi Aron Moss of Sydney, Australia 

This coronavirus thing has really thrown me. I feel like I've lost all sense of certainty. No one knows what will happen next. How do we stay sane when we don't know what's lurking around the corner? 

Answer: 

It is not that we have lost our sense of certainty. We have lost our illusion of certainty. We never had it to begin with. This could be majorly unsettling, or amazingly liberating.   

This tiny virus of 125 nanometres* has sent the entire world into chaos. All of our plans are up in the air, markets are going crazy, entire countries shutting down, and we have no clue what the future holds. 

 But that is always the case. We never know what the future holds. We only think we do, and keep getting surprised when things don't pan out the way we expected. Now the mask is off. We have to admit our vulnerability. 

What will happen next? We don't know. Our experts don't know. Our leaders don't know. Only G-d knows. And that is the point. Only G-d knows. 

Close your eyes and feel the uncertainty, make peace with it, let yourself be taken by it. Embrace your cluelessness. Because in all the confusion there is one thing you know for sure. You are in G-d's hands. 

Keep calm. Panic and fear are also contagious. Take every precaution as advised by health authorities. Wash your hands well. And every time you do, remember whose hands you are in. 

Good Shabbos 

Rabbi Moss 

May we be blessed with health. May we soon see a time when our fears can be put to rest, and life can resume as it did before.