{Originally posted to Rabbi Weinberg’s website, The Foundation Stone}
At the end he confronted his beginning. Moses tasted the beginning of his end with the Spies, a story that begins with, “Send forth men (Numbers 13:2),” a subtle reminder of his beginning, when, in an intense interchange with God, he cried out in frustration, “Please, my Master, send whomever you will send (Exodus 4:13).” Moses now had to send whomever he wanted, the result being thirty-eight years of God remaining silent (Bava Batra 121b). Moses confronted the potential consequences had God chosen to grant his request. His beginning was present at the end.
God was angry that Moses hit, rather than spoke to, the rock to bring forth water, “Because you did not believe in Me (Numbers 20:12),” words that again took Moses back to his beginning, “But they will not believe me (Exodus 4:1).” At the end, Moses was taken back to his beginning, and learned that he, who accused the people of not believing, similarly suffered. He hit the rock with the same staff that, immediately after his accusation, changed into a snake and caused him to flee! A sign, explains Rashi, that his accusations against Israel were Lishon haRah, the Vocabulary of Evil. His beginning was present at his end.
There was another ending just before the confrontation at the rock. The final scene before the rock is God instructing Moses in the mysterious and complex laws of the Red Heifer, “You shall give it to Elazar (Numbers 19:3).” Elazar, not his father, Aaron, the High Priest, because this offering was also to atone for the Golden Calf manufactured by Aaron, and, “The accuser cannot become the defender (Rosh Hashanah 26a).” I hear God warning Moses, who accused Israel in the beginning of his role as leader, “The accuser cannot become the defender!” Moses, despite his numerous successful attempts to save Israel from God’s wrath, was still an accuser, and it is not surprising that he accuses them just before angrily hitting the rock, “Listen now, rebels (Numbers 20:10).”
Upon hearing of his end, “You will not bring this congregation to the Land I have given them (Verse 12),” Moses began to reflect on that final warning of the Red Heifer. Its ashes purify the impure who have been in contact with death, yet, those, who in a heightened state of purity, were involved in its preparation, become impure and connect to death. Perhaps, Moses thought, he had to reframe beginnings and endings.
Immediately upon connecting to his death, Moses reached far into the past to another beginning, “Moses sent emissaries to the king of Edom (20:14),” just as, “Jacob sent emissaries ahead of him to Esau, to Edom (Genesis 32:4).” Moses understood Jacob’s actions as a result of, “Jacob went on his own way, and the angels of the Lord encountered him (Verse 2),” the same angels he sent as emissaries now that he began his path in life (Zohar, Vayishlach). Moses, finding his own new path, is now able to repair his sending men to spy and his plea of “Please, my Master, send whomever you will send!” He began again.
Moses, on his new path, repairs the staff, the sign and tool of his mistakes, the one that became a snake, by using it to defend the people he had accused with a snake, “Moses made a serpent of copper and placed it on the pole; so it was that if a serpent bit a man, he would stare at the copper serpent and live (Numbers 21:9).” He even sings a new Song of the Sea, “Then Israel sang this song (Verse 17).” The man who connected with death in his attempt to bring life in the form of water, was able to reconnect with life. He lived the lesson of the Red Heifer. He began again.
It is impossible to be involved in life without somehow sensing endings. The Red Heifer, a sign of life, connects its preparers to death, yet, ultimately, its purpose is to bring new life to those who have touched the end. Moses listened and found a beginning in response to his end. We need not be permanently scarred by our beginnings, nor scared of what seems to be the death of a relationship. We, too, can find new beginnings, finding new life for us, and a relationship, even when sensing a connection with the end. We can bring life to the Red Heifer and sense the next beginning at the end.
A dear, wise, and very sweet friend, Noah ben Shea, the author of the “Jacob, The Baker,” series, has written a beautiful essay on fatherhood, which I am thrilled to share with you: “To Be A Father Be A Man.”
Shabbat Shalom
