By Rabbi Geri Newburge
Parshat Pinchas
Moses is a rather sympathetic figure. While we likely have not led a large group of people through the wilderness for 40 years, he is portrayed as remarkably human, with characteristics to which we can all relate, and which inspire us to strive to live up to the best in ourselves.
In Parshat Pinchas, God directs Moses to apportion the land according to each tribe’s needs. Following Moses’ instructions to the Israelites, the daughters of Zelophechad come forward and ask to inherit their father’s portion since he had no sons. Befuddled, Moses consults the Holy One and is advised that the daughters can indeed inherit.
After this sequence of events, God tells Moses to climb to the top of Mount Abarim from where he would see the Promised Land before he died. Rashi, the medieval commentator, asks, “Why is this passage juxtaposed here with the previous one?” While the two narratives seem disconnected, Rashi points out that earlier in the book of Numbers, Moses was informed by God that he would not be able to enter the Promised Land after he struck the rock, instead of speaking to it, to obtain water for the cantankerous Israelites. In Rashi’s estimation, this most certainly weighed on Moses’ mind and, with all the discussion on inheritance, he thought the decree to die outside the land of Israel had been rescinded.
Rashi’s commentary is informed by an earlier body of work, the Sifrei. Here the rabbis offer an allegory: “Since Moses had entered the territories of the descendants of Gad and the descendants of Reuben, he rejoiced, saying, ‘It seems that the vow made regarding me has been annulled.’ This can be compared to a king who decreed that his son could not enter the portals of his palace. The king entered the gate, with the son following; the courtyard, with him following; the foyer, with him following. When he was about to enter the inner chamber, he said to him, ‘My son, from here on, it is forbidden for you to enter.’”
Sadly, like the son in the fable who could not enter the palace, Moses’ fate remains unchanged, and he is not permitted to enter the land of Israel. He can only view it from afar before he dies. But the Torah portion is both a lesson in humility as well as a lesson in reconciling our expectations with reality.
Despite his decades of service, Moses cannot reach the ultimate destination. We never truly learn how Moses feels about the circumstances, but it’s not hard to imagine his frustration, disappointment and even a sense of loss over something he could never attain.
John Adams said, “Facts are stubborn things; and whatever may be our wishes, our inclinations, or the dictates of our passion, they cannot alter the state of facts and evidence.”
Like Moses, our reality does not always reconcile with our expectations, leaving us with a sense of discontent, as we interact with the world and on a personal level.
Our world is a rapidly changing environment, and we cannot anticipate tomorrow’s headlines today. This reality challenges us to dig deeper to sift through the noise and determine the facts. Living in such a deeply divided society, it often feels the reality and our perception of what it should be do not always align.
Similarly, on a personal level, we may possess certain hopes and desires for ourselves, our families and our communities, but the facts on the ground may inhibit realizing those dreams, either through our own limitations, or external factors which seem insurmountable.
I cannot help but think of the words which have come to mean so much to us as a Jewish community, composed by Anne Frank: “It’s really a wonder that I haven’t dropped all my ideals, because they seem so absurd and impossible to carry out. Yet I keep them, because in spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart. I simply can’t build up my hopes on a foundation consisting of confusion, misery, and death. I see the world gradually being turned into a wilderness, I hear the ever approaching thunder, which will destroy us too, I can feel the sufferings of millions and yet, if I look up into the heavens, I think that it will all come right, that this cruelty too will end, and that peace and tranquility will return again. In the mean time, I must uphold my ideals, for perhaps the day will come when I shall be able to carry them out.”
This is not a time for us to abandon our ideals, nor is it the time to stop dreaming. Like Moses, we must continue to walk on, leading, toward the Promised Land, inspiring the next generations to create a world where our hopes become reality.
Rabbi Geri Newburge serves at Main Line Reform Temple-Beth Elohim in Wynnewood. The Board of Rabbis of Greater Philadelphia is proud to provide diverse perspectives on Torah commentary for the Jewish Exponent. The opinions expressed in this column are the author’s own and do not reflect the view of the Board of Rabbis.