A biseleh midrash

  Photo Matt Artz on unsplash Because I love him. Watched him be set adrift in his little toy boat, raised in splendor and opulence, with that innate sense of justice and care for the underdog burning undiminished--even if his actions mixed compassion with anger, righteousness with a desire for self-preservation. Later, when I saw him gently shepherd his flock, and heard him sing hesitantly to the newborn lambs, that is when I came to love him, this human, simple and complex at the same time, always trying his best, and getting it right as much as he was getting it wrong, but trying nevertheless. Both he and I had to learn to overcome frustration with the other, and my anger, reflecting his, had to be curtailed a number of times. But like two people in a marriage we learned each other’s ways, and grew in intimacy even when we wavered in our trust. Because I love him, dear Angels, that’s why I chose Moses to lead the people, not because he was smarter or better or stronger. I hope

             Image: Mohamad Babayan (unsplash) It’s just a stick, really, probably oak; the kind given to small round-eyed boys when they are first taken along to help with the sheep. The sticks get longer and stronger as the boys grow into men, but they remain what they are, an extension of the shepherd’s arm, almost part of his body. A shepherd without a staff is inconceivable. So when God says, “What's that in your hand?” (Exod. 4:2) Moses at first looks down, having forgotten that the knotted staff is where it always is. God shows him a magic trick using the staff, and from then on that simple wooden stick becomes a player in the drama of Israel’s redemption. Moses shows off the stick-to-snake trick to his people to establish his credibility, then Aaron gets a turn doing the same before Pharaoh. Held out over the Nile, the rod later makes the river run with blood; the rod summons the frogs and the lice. The rod is revered. The rod is feared. Back in Moses’ hands, it is the rod

Photo: Gary Ellis (on unsplash) - There’s a call ... - For me? - Not specifically.    It’s more of a cry, really, a crying out. - A cry? A crying out? Well ... - You’ve been expecting it ... - I have? - Yes, for four hundred-odd years. -Oh ... that’s quite a while! Wonder what kept them? I better go down. ------------------------------- Na'aseh v'nishma. At the beginning of Shemot these words are a long way off. Here it is words and names that come first, what is said more important than what is done. Who are you? What's your name? What if they don't believe me? Why me? Send someone more eloquent, I stutter! Moses is a skeptic, impressed by the pyrotechnics, but not by God's words. In exasperation God gives him magic tricks to perform to make believers out of his own people. They've been cut off too long. It is not only Pharaoh who doesn't remember Joseph. Year in, year out they bear the drudgery and abuse, because in spite of all the hard work they keep hav

  Photo: Feri & Tasos (on unsplash.com) The land he has been coming to these forty years is spread before him like a woman waiting for his touch. He doesn’t feel his age, almost forgets the trials and the dust along the long way home. So many buried by the roadside where they fell, so many born along the roadside--now princes and priests, drawers of water, hewers of wood. They never heard the Great Ventriloquist but through his mouth, yet they will cross the river and possess the land. And then they will forget, cavort with godlets, and be taught regret. If he could go, he would remind them every day, and if they went astray he’d plead their case before The One Above! Please let me cross. He’s seen the Lord, he’s heard his voice, he never asked for chosenness, but there it was: the stutterer pushed front and centre, made to slay Pharao’s children with his tongue. Did it mean nothing?! No one is perfect, and he struc