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."

Looking Like An Egyptian

Parshat Sh'mot

by Rabbi Avi Billet

From his first introduction to us, most of the Torah depicts Moshe as the quintessential leader par excellence. The ultimate Jewish figure, he continues to hold that enigmatic quality that Jewish mothers dream about for their children — “Maybe one day you can be as great as Moses.”

And yet, there is one description of him that is so out of character, we wonder how it came to pass that he would be called such. After Moshe saves the daughters of Yitro from the shepherds who were mistreating them, they tell their father that an “Ish Mitzri,” an Egyptian man, saved them from the shepherds (2:19).

Oddly enough, only two other people in the Torah are described as “Ish Mitzri.” The first is Potiphar, Yosef’s first Egyptian master (Bereshit 39:1). The second is the man Moshe killed earlier in our chapter, for striking the Hebrew slave (2:11). The term appears in Vayikra 24:10 as well, but most people identify the Ish Mitzri there (the father of the blasphemer) as the same Egyptian man that Moshe killed in 2:11.

Certainly Moshe has little, if anything, in common with Potiphar and the violent Egyptian. How could the Torah give him the same title as these other Egyptian men?

I do not yet have an explanation as to whether a comparison to Potiphar is valid, unless in his case, as in Moshe’s, it refers to a member of Egyptian aristocracy.

Regardless, Rabbenu Bachaye records a beautiful interpretation that appears in a number of places in the Midrash. Yitro’s daughters were thanking their lucky stars that Moshe was present at the well. It was his flight on account of killing the “Ish Mitzri” of 2:11 that brought him to Midian. In this light, they were saying that the circumstances that brought Moshe to be at that well to save them was on account of an Ish Mitzri whom Moshe killed. In this interpretation, the last three times the term appears in the Torah all refer to the same Ish Mitzri - while the term is not being used to describe Moshe.

Of course, the simple explanation is that Moshe, who grew up in the palace of the king, was dressed like and spoke the language of an Egyptian.

I think that his being an Ish Mitzri here is just another challenge for him to overcome in the pursuit of his identity. Different Midrashim paint his time period in Midian to between 40 and 60 years, meaning he’ll have much time to contemplate who he is and what his mission in life will ultimately be.

The story is told that when the Russian Tzar decreed the Jews could no longer wear “Jewish” clothing, many rabbis felt the need to oppose the legislation and to wear Jewish clothing at all costs. The Kotzker rebbe, on the other hand, was against such an approach, as he felt the only real “Jewish clothing” are the tallis and techelet, both of which can always be worn, either when praying, or underneath one’s outer garments.

Moshe was dressed like a Mitzri, even though he was a Hebrew, says the Midrash. He demonstrated his concern for the other in every encounter he had in the Torah's first depictions of his behavior.

For us, the question becomes one of how much our dressing like the “mitzri” affects who we are as Hebrews. I recall fondly one of the musser talks I heard from one of my high school rebbeim about how “the clothes make the man.” I wonder if I remain a more conservative dresser, to this day, on account of that 20 minute monologue.

I still marvel over how many of us fall into the trap of “needing” to be up-to-date in terms of styles and accessories. While the Kotzker rebbe was right that “Jewish clothing” are a tallis and techeilet, there is also a “Jewish dress code” that the Kotzker rebbe felt no need to refer to because he lived in a time when everyone dressed more conservatively.

The Jewish dress code of modesty is not just one of how much skin or form is exposed to onlookers. That element, one would hope, is more obvious. Modesty is also about how much attention we draw to ourselves on account of what we are wearing. There is nothing wrong with receiving a compliment from those we know, but if even those we don’t know are turning heads and gaping at our chosen form of attire, it is time to reconsider our priorities and whether we are looking too much like a “mitzri.”

Whether Yitro’s daughters referred to the Egyptian Moshe killed or thought he himself was an Egyptian, it did not take long for Moshe to set the record straight and eventually become Moshe Rabbenu. We must take the bull by the horns, swallow our need to be a walking showcase for the latest design and designers and focus on promoting the Jewish dress code of modesty and furthering our own spiritual pursuits.

It’s not just about what part of us people see. It is more about how people see us. And unlike Moshe who soon joined the family who may have viewed him otherwise, we don’t always get to set the record straight.