Moshe’s Stutter: The Pardonable Sin
Near the beginning of the book of Shemot, we meet a larger-than-life personality. Moshe, the Torah’s main human actor, truly defies the limits of humanness, or more precisely, shows us that there are no such limits, short of becoming God Himself. As Moshe is so different from us it is difficult to say anything definitive about him. At the same time, his immense presence demands our attention.
If we are to gain any insight at all into Moshe, it would likely come from an analysis of his early formative years, a time when his life experience more closely replicates our own. (Even though his youth could hardly be described as typical, it is still within the realm of the recognizable.) Perhaps it is for this reason that the Torah presents a more detailed picture of these years.
In the early chapters about Moshe, we are treated to one of the most fascinating and revealing narratives about any individual in the Torah. Through Moshe’s first interview with God, we are able to see his personality, before he takes on his role as God’s closest confidant. The highly unusual dialogue gives us an important glimpse of the transition from Moshe’s earlier years to his more mature period when he has already been elevated to become God’s central prophet.
On some level, Moshe’s first dialogue with God sets the tone not only for Moshe’s religious life but for the Jewish tradition as a whole. With this in mind, we might have expected the scene at the burning bush to be full of religious consecration and bliss. Instead, we are confronted with discord and disagreement, as the striking main feature of the story here is Moshe’s arguing with God.
Moshe presumably learned that it was proper to argue with God from his own family tradition about Avraham, who most famously mounted a vigorous defense of the wicked city of Sodom. Still, the scene at the burning bush is informingly distinctive. It is different from what we see in Avraham’s arguments in both content and tone. It is equally different from the more mature Moshe’s arguments when he would defend the Jewish people time after time before God. At the burning bush, Moshe is particularly unyielding, refusing God’s call to assume national leadership. In fact, given that it is God with Whom he is arguing, his behavior seems out-and-out audacious. Furthermore, as this is Moshe’s first reported prophecy, we would expect him to be just the opposite: more cautious and less assertive.
Moshe’s arguing with God could be attributed to the reticence of many Jewish leaders upon their initiation to office. In my volume on Bereshit, I argued that heightened ambivalence about leadership is a trademark of true Jewish leaders.40Redeeming Relevance in Genesis, pp. 114–16. Nonetheless, with Moshe it goes beyond the reluctance common to the others. And if his attempts to avoid the Divine calling are truly sui generis, it is likely that his motivation is sui generis as well and needs to be examined on its own merits. In order to do this, we will presently take a more careful look at the introductory exchange between God and Moshe.
The Stubborn Speech Impediment
Moshe repeatedly (and as a result, revealingly) says that his speech impediment prevents him from carrying out God’s mandate. God’s answer (Shemot 4:11)41Shemot 4:11. seems so obvious that one wonders why Moshe had not been embarrassed to even bring it up. It is manifestly clear that God is able to fix Moshe’s speech if it is necessary.42For this reason, some commentators try to explain Moshe’s claim in ways that attempt to avoid this problem. We take it for granted that God knows what He is doing when He asks Moshe to be an emissary to Pharaoh. The obviousness of the answer and Moshe’s multiple repetition of the problem even after hearing God’s response (Shemot 6:12; Shemot 6:30).43Shemot 6:12, 30. According to some commentators, these two verses are actually reporting the same incident (see, for example, Rashi). Others note that the phrasing of the second verse, i.e., that Moshe is speaking “in front of God” rather than “to God” is a way of saying that Moshe is really muttering to himself rather than confronting God with this same claim once again (see, for example, Rabbi S. R. Hirsch and Ohr haChaim). Regardless, the very fact that the Torah reviews this unusual and previously defeated argument is certainly worth noting. tell us to dig deeper. Indeed, the text mandates that we look below the surface.
Moshe cannot seem to get over the limitations that his impediment creates for him. He seems to be obsessed with it. The difficulty in understanding Moshe’s seeming obstinacy about this point makes us believe that the speech impediment represents something much deeper than a specific physical limitation. It seems to be – at least from Moshe’s perspective – part of his core identity, and therefore would not be subject to change. It would be part of Moshe’s essence even if God were to take away the actual physical defect. To put it differently, Moshe didn’t merely think that he had a speech impediment: on some level, he felt that he was a speech impediment. He internalized its implications so deeply that it took on essential personal meaning. What we need to know now is why Moshe felt so intimately connected with his defect.
A physical impediment drives home the idea that we humans are not in complete control of our most basic functions. Thus, Moshe’s speech impediment serves as a manifestation of his intrinsic human imperfection. Like anyone else – and regardless of his speech impediment – he was imperfect simply as a result of being human. The only difference between Moshe and others is that Moshe’s humility made him constantly and intensely aware of his inevitable limitations. Consequently, he felt that he could never properly represent God – especially to the most powerful and grandiose man alive. For this reason, Moshe raises and repeats the problem of his speech impediment specifically concerning his mission to Pharaoh.
There are other places, especially in rabbinic literature, where Moshe’s humanness is discussed in similar fashion. One famous vignette is Moshe being verbally attacked by the angels, who claim that by virtue of his being a man and not an angel he should be ineligible to receive the Torah (Shabbat 88b).44Shabbat 88b. If Moshe expresses his concern about a mortal representing God to Pharaoh, the rabbis suggest that this concern is even more in place when it comes to Moshe’s ultimate task – that of bringing God’s will down to mankind.
In the Torah itself, Moshe’s humanness invites challenge from his fellowmen, allowing them to question the purity of his motivations.45See, for example, Korach’s claims that Moshe’s leadership was based on personal vested interests, in Bemidbar 16:3. Even his own brother and sister accuse him of misunderstanding the personal implications of his prophecy (Bemidbar 12:1–2).46Bemidbar 12:1–2. That particular episode is only one of a list of events wherein Moshe’s judgment is questioned. It is hard to imagine such doubts on the part of the Jews had the leadership been entrusted to an angel; and all the more so, to God Himself.47Though we know that the Jews in the desert were not entirely beyond this either. It is the palpable public awareness of Moshe’s humanness that made him vulnerable to attack.
Hence, we see that since Moshe is to reach higher than anyone else, being human is a real issue. He is keenly aware that his incomparable stature is compromised by this fact. And that awareness is encapsulated in Moshe’s obsession with his speech impediment. Ultimately, it is his way of saying, “I can’t see how this (i.e., a human communicating God’s will) can be done.”
From this perspective, when Moshe asks God to send someone else (Shemot 4:13),48Shemot 4:13. he isn’t saying that there would be another person better qualified than he. Rather, the task of representing God should be given over to God Himself or at least to angels, as had usually been the case up until now.49Both suggestions can be found in Shemot Rabba (3:4 and 3:16 respectively). God’s glory and perfection could be represented only by another perfect being.50Indeed, the highly popular rabbinic tradition that Moshe would eventually reach the level of angels and shed all of his physical needs could be seen as a modified expression of this idea.
An alternative understanding of Moshe’s request is that he wanted God to give the task of representing Him to a human being less concerned about the precarious nature of the charge, someone less aware of his own human imperfection. This could be compared to a skyscraper window-washer – too much awareness of his situation would paralyze him.
Of Greatness and Humility
At first glance, it may seem paradoxical for mankind’s greatest prophet to be so fixated on his human frailty – one would think that the fewer the imperfections, the easier it would be to overlook them. Yet our astonishment only reveals how warped our own perspective is. Warped, that is, in an ultimate sense, as we shall explain.
We rarely examine how we look at time and space – most of us think that ten years is a long time and ten minutes is a short time. Likewise, we think of a mouse as a small animal and an elephant as a large one. We take for granted that this is a universally true viewpoint. If we were to think more carefully, we would realize that from an ant’s perspective a mouse is really quite large and from a whale’s perspective an elephant is rather average. Once we understand that the human perspective is a relative one, taking for granted that humans are at the center of all existence, we get greater insight into Moshe. As Moshe grew to have a more refined understanding of God, he likely started leaving his human viewpoint behind and looking at the world from God’s perspective. From such a point of view, a man is very small indeed.
At the end of Moshe’s life, the Torah tells us that he was the greatest prophet who ever lived (Devarim 34:1).51Devarim 34:1. Based on the Torah’s description of his giant stature, it is likely that Moshe knew of his greatness throughout his prophetic career. What allowed Moshe to have this awareness and still be, as the Torah reports, the most humble of all men, was his perspective: If a great person compares himself to other humans, he will think very highly of himself. If, however, he sees himself from the vantage point of God – as Moshe’s fixation on his imperfection would indicate – he would feel quite small. To put if differently, even if you are the greatest ant in the world, how great can an ant be? True, man is far superior to an ant on many different levels. Still, it would be difficult to claim that the difference between man and ants is greater than the difference between man and God.
It follows, then, that the greatest man was also the most humble. True humility comes from an elevated and ultimately truer stance – one which forces us to be conscious of our intrinsic imperfection.
The Argument that God “Lost”
Before we return to Moshe’s humility, we should turn our attention to other peculiarities about God’s argument with Moshe. To begin with, after God has debunked every excuse Moshe presents, Moshe amazes us by basically saying, “I just won’t do it.”52See Abarbanel on I Shmuel 16:2 who understands Moshe’s reluctance in Shemot 6:12 in this way as well. Left with no reason to refuse, his insistence is hard to understand. And instead of God rebuking him, it looks as if He partially gives in. In this apparent compromise, God gives over the public side of leadership to Moshe’s brother, Aharon (Shemot 4:14–16).53Shemot 4:14–16. This, according to tradition, marks the end of an entire week of arguing with God (Yerushalmi Berachot 9:7)54Yerushalmi, Berachot 9:7. Moreover, even after Moshe accepts the compromise, he repeats his old excuse of having a speech problem only a few chapters later (Shemot 6:12).55Shemot 6:12. Even after accepting his task, Moshe clearly remains doubtful about his eligibility for the job.
God appears to appreciate His prophets’ arguing with Him in certain situations.56See my unpublished essay entitled, “Herzl, Chutzpah and Heresy,” archived at www.cardozoschool.org. But even so, we never see a prophet saying, “I disagree even if I have no reason for it.” Such an argument would be audacious in front of any interlocutor, all the more so in front of the Master of the Universe. God’s unexpected response to Moshe begs comparison with His more conventional one when confronted with the refusal of the prophet Yonah to carry out his charge (Yonah 1:1–3).57Yonah 1:1–3. Admittedly, there are certain differences between the two stories. Most significant among them is the Mechilta’s suggestion (Parashat Bo 1) that Yonah’s reticence to bring the gentile city of Nineveh to repent was based upon his concern that God would then compare the repentance of Nineveh to the lack of repentance among the Jews. Still, the differences fail to fully account for the difference in God’s response. Yonah’s refusal to obey results in personal ordeals and, in the end, he is coerced to do exactly what God had ordered him to do in the first place (Yonah 3:14).58Yonah 3:14. Moshe, however, is not only allowed to reach a compromise, his obstinacy doesn’t result in any punishment whatsoever. According to one opinion in the Talmud,59That of R. Yehoshua ben Karcha in Zevachim 102a. This view is opposed by R. Yosi, who maintains that Moshe is punished by having his progeny demoted from serving as priests in favor of Aharon’s line. this represents a leniency that isn’t afforded anyone else – being allowed to evoke Divine anger without being punished. The notion that Moshe could “get away” with his refusal to obey God is only underscored by its theologically problematic nature.
It may be helpful to examine Moshe’s singular role in Jewish tradition to better understand God’s response – or lack thereof – to his insubordination. After all, Moshe’s leadership was truly exceptional, in both its scope and its grandeur: his mere proximity to God, as well as the enormity of taking the Jews out of Egypt and bringing them God’s revelation, made his role unique. The power as well as the honor that would be accorded him would be the undoing of anyone with a less all-encompassing sense of humility. As the expression goes, “It’s hard to be humble when you’re great.” Precisely for this reason, God was interested in a man whose natural humility was overwhelming, such that no matter what God said to him, he would still not see himself as someone fitting to speak on God’s behalf. In other words, Moshe’s humility was so fully integrated that the greatest arguments could not dissuade him from it. And for this reason, he was – shockingly – not even swayed by God.
Lest we think this absurd, we should bear in mind that certain things are so clear to us that we also would have trouble believing otherwise, even if God were to appear and tell us so. For example, if God were to tell us that we don’t exist or that we don’t breathe, would we really believe it? This was how Moshe saw the inappropriateness of his taking on the role that God requested of him. Moshe was asked to ignore his reservations and to accept that God always knows better, no matter how convinced he was of his perspective. Moshe clearly erred in his unwillingness to put aside his own worldview, which would make Divine anger completely justified. Be that as it may, however, the context made it a forgivable error, as – paradoxically – that is precisely what God was looking for in selecting this unique Jewish leader.
Though inappropriate, Moshe’s tenacity was the only way that he could pass God’s test. Moshe’s refusal to listen to God showed to what extent he had internalized the requisite modesty his role demanded. It also showed that the place that would be given to him in the annals of human history would not cause him to lose his perspective. He would never lose sight of the fact that as a human being, no matter how great he would become, he would never fully and properly refract God’s greatness.
◆ ◆ ◆
If uncertainty can itself be a sign of humility, there are some things that need to be clear to a person. It is a basic truth that a human being is very small. Both in how much physical space a person occupies and in how many years he lives, he is barely perceivable. The more objective one is, the more he can see this. Man’s sole claim to importance has little to do with his intrinsic significance and everything to do with the fact that God chooses to relate to and to be concerned with him. Many great religious thinkers have tried to explain this Divine prerogative which, at the end of the day, will always be a nearly inexplicable kindness. Its mystery notwithstanding, ultimately, to use the words of Kohelet, “this is all of man.”
Humility allows a person to understand his place in the grand scheme of things. Without such an understanding, a man is doomed to unduly focus on himself, and thus never become truly great. It is accordingly not accidental that the hallmark of Jewish holiness is humility.60Indeed, many great Jewish scholars have viewed humility as the most important virtue to acquire. See, for example, Igeret haRamban. Rambam also sees modesty as one of only two traits regarding which a person should not strive towards the golden mean but seek to take an extreme position (Mishneh Torah, Hilchot De’ot 2:3). Clearly, this is why Moshe, the most humble of all men, is the premier Jewish hero.
◆ ◆ ◆
Moshe makes us realize how central humility is to the fabric of Jewish values, but we mustn’t stop there. It is incumbent upon us to fully incorporate that knowledge into contemporary Jewish life. Alas, this is not what we see in contemporary Western culture, which has often come to celebrate precisely those who are least humble. The American boxing champion, Mohammed Ali, who became beloved to many for constantly declaring, “I am the greatest,” is only one example. Politicians, entertainers and other celebrities rise to success by flouting their real or imagined strengths. This is so pervasive that we are often not even aware of it or of how pernicious it is. In fact, the popularity of more than one contemporary Jewish leader is just as equally built around clever media exposure and other attention-getting maneuvers as any other celebrity.
In examining the acculturation of the Jewish people to Western society, it is particularly important to pick out which of its facets we should resist. Not only important for the preservation of our distinct identity, protesting the mistakes of the dominant culture is a great service to it as well, allowing it to put its own best foot forward. The centrality of human pride in Western culture, which has its roots in Enlightenment thinking and perhaps even earlier in Western culture’s Greco-Roman pedigree, certainly demands our dissent.61In fact, it is has been suggested that the exile brought about by Rome and its cultural descendants has been so long and bitter because the very core of this culture is the opposite of humility. See R. Eliyahu Dessler, Michtav m’Eliyahu, vol. 2, p. 51. Instead of protesting, however, Jews have more recently exaggerated their own sense of self-importance, both individually and nationally. Rather than protest, we are engaged in mimicry.
Living in an era dominated by publicity and fame, it is sometimes hard for us to realize that this is not the Jewish way. Yet even with all of the noise around us, we are obliged to listen to Moshe’s stutter – a stutter far more eloquent than any speech or sonnet.