Why Did There Need to be a Moshe?
Why did the Jews need Moshe, instead of someone native-raised amongst the Jews?
Might it be connected to the fact that somehow nobody in that generation is named? After all, isn’t it odd that the Torah does not (at this time) name Moses’ parents? Instead, they are merely: A man of the House of Levi went and took a daughter of Levi. We know they had names, as we are told them later! But why are they nameless now?
Indeed, when the baby is put into the reeds of the Nile, Moses’ sister keeps an eye on the basket – but she, too, is not named! Neither are any of the Jews who Moshe encounters before he flees Egypt. Why not?
Is it possible that the Jewish people were not strong individuals at this time? That they were essentially all part of a greater mass of people, with no individuals standing out?
Might this be supported by the description of the Jewish people at this time being described as “swarming” וַֽיִּשְׁרְצ֛וּ? Animals that swarm are the ones created on the 5th day – and they are better defined as a swarm than as individuals with individual leaders.
So was person with a hybrid background (Moshe, or someone very much like him) necessary because the Jewish people were not capable of producing such a potential leader within their own community?
(I note that Shifra and Puah are named – but it is widely understood that these names described their functions. Indeed, the only Jews who show bravery until Moshe grows up, are women – who could not have viably represented the people and G-d to Pharoah.)
Did It Have to Be Moshe?
G-d tells Moshe to go and save the Jews. Moshe’s reply is a question: “Who am I?”
G-d seems to ignore the question, almost as if it was the wrong question! Instead of answering the question directly, G-d replies:
“I will be with you.”
This non-answer suggests that perhaps Moshe was indeed not qualified for such a monumental task?!
Perhaps G-d’s reply is a way of telling Moshe (and each of us) that by ourselves, none of us is particularly special? That indeed, it may make little or no difference who we are? That what really matters is that that we can do anything as long as G-d is with us?!
Does that thought give us courage for other endeavors in our lives?
What is Oppression?
There is a word, Lachatz, that describes the specific slavery the Jews endured. What does it mean?
In the Torah, the word is, with only one exception, used to describe what it was like to be a slave in Egypt. Which does not explain the meaning of lachatz.
Here is the exception containing that word:
[Bilaam’s] donkey, seeing the messenger of G-d, lachatz herself against the wall and lachatz Balaam’s foot against the wall.
So Lachatz refers to actual pressure, the feeling of being squeezed between an immovable object and an unstoppable force. Is the Torah telling us that this was the feeling of being a slave in Egypt?
Consider the leg: Bilaam was not just squeezed: his leg was locked in. Legs, of course, are the way in which we might think of exit and escape? Mind that explain the sense of hopelessness that we felt as slaves in Egypt?
Did G-d Really Try to Kill Moshe?
G-d encountered him and sought to kill him.
Is this really what happened? Not necessarily. “Kill him” is not the right translation. The word “to kill” is found just one verse earlier, when G-d describes killing Pharaoh’s first born. And that word is different – it is the same word as “murder,” the word used to describe Cain murdering his brother.
No, the word in the Torah is not “kill” – it is instead “to make dead.” And the first time that word is used is when G-d forbids the fruit to Adam and Eve: “On that day you will surely die.” But Adam and Eve, despite eating the fruit, did NOT die! Instead, they changed irrevocably. Their old selves, the way they saw the world, each other, their nakedness, etc. all perished. They became entirely different, thanks to changed knowledge. There was no going back to who they were beforehand.
If this is right, then what G-d is doing when he comes to Moshe that night, is seeking a transformation. The old Moshe has to go. The new Moshe has to arrive. What was wrong with the “old” Moshe? He was a family man, working for his father-in-law, supporting his wife and children. That man could not simultaneously serve as G-d’s very mouthpiece to the world. Unlike every Jew before and after, who are called to use marriage as their template for the challenges of relating to G-d, Moshe’s marriage had to be as exceptional as Moshe himself.
Tzipporah at this point sees what is happening. And while it may have been possible that she could have transformed along with her husband, she does not choose to do so. She saw her husband crossing this threshold, and she realized that her position had become untenable. She had to act to protect herself.
The language that she uses seems to foreshadow yibum – as described in Deut. 25:9 – the woman also makes a fervent declaration using the man’s foot. The use of the word chatan is also important, because in the Torah chatan never means a relative who plans to stick around (e.g. Lot’s sons-in-law).
It seems that Tzipporah left Moshe after this episode. She goes back to her father, sons in tow. She only reunites when her father takes her back to her husband, after the Exodus. Does this seem like an impromptu separation ritual?
(There is more here.)