The holiday of Shavuot, which begins this year on the evening of June 7, brings with it an intense connection between God, Moses, the Jewish people, and our beloved Torah. It is a time of sweetness, learning, and community connection.
Those who then take a break from Torah reading over the summer may be surprised to know just how much conversation the Torah contains about leadership, politics, and the difficulties inherent in building community.
In the Torah readings during the summer months, mostly from the book of Numbers, Moses and the children of Israel are a year past the revelation at Sinai — the second year after their exodus from Egypt.
Though they had experienced intense connection with Moses during the moments of the revelation at Sinai, their affinity for their leader, as well as their interest in a desert experience, has waned. Things are not going well.
The wandering has been difficult for the children of Israel and has caused them to be grumpy and agitated. Their contentiousness, grumblings, endless needs and demands have become too much for Moses. They want garlic, cucumbers, onions, fish, and meat.
Moses cries out to God, “I cannot carry all this people by myself, for it is too much for me” (Numbers 11:14). He asks God to kill him to relieve him of his responsibility.
Instead, God asks Moses to gather 70 elders to act as a governing entity to share the burdens of the people (Numbers 11:16-17).
Seventy is a significant number in Jewish tradition. It is said to represent all of the nations of the world. It represents a variety of opinions that are included in a complete discussion. It is also said to be the number of children of Israel that went down originally to sojourn in Egypt.
This group of 70 elders would serve to share the governance of the people with Moses, helping to make decisions, to delegate authority, to listen to grievances and make the lives of the people better. In later years, this group of 70 would be the model for the Sanhedrin, the governing body of the Jewish people during the first centuries of the Common Era.
And yet during the summer months of Torah, we realize that even 70 voices of leadership still does not quell the Jewish people in their desert wanderings.
In Numbers 16, rebellion sweeps the camp, as Korach and his sons rise against Moses. They accuse Moses and Aaron of elitist leadership yelling, “You have gone too far. For all the community are holy, all of them… Why do you raise yourselves above the Lord’s congregation?” (16:3)
Jewish tradition condemns Korach’s behavior. Yet it raises questions to some about the nature of Moses’ leadership.
Was Korach a self-righteous egoist, claiming, “I can do it better than you”? Jewish tradition tends to think so.
But the story can also generate discussion of how our leaders might respond to those in every generation who challenge them so openly and harshly.
Moses is generally praised as a great soul who did not respond in anger, but tried to remain calm under the enormous strain of persistent complaints and criticism from his people. One can imagine the toll the constant criticism took on Moses and on the people.
Torah gives us much to think about during the summer months. Our state, our country, and many of the countries of the world today face enormous change, great criticism, and, often, upheaval. Our leaders face harsh criticism, and for some, a loss of confidence amongst their people.
In Wisconsin we have experienced moments of immense solidarity and unity as well as huge clashes. As a country we have witnessed and perhaps even rejoiced at the killing of a known terrorist. And we have felt enormous insecurity about our government, the capability of our leaders, of our own voice being heard.
When we read Torah in the summer we realize that “there is nothing new under the sun” (Ecclesiastes 1:9). These feelings are real. They arise in every generation. And we may not solve them. But we must continue the conversation, seeking justice in our day.
May we learn from our rich tradition of Torah. There are many arguments, discussions, criticisms, and rebellions in our past and in our tradition.
Let us learn from past mistakes. Let us continue the conversation. May our feelings of helplessness turn to strength. May our own negativity leave us and may we as a community turn to hopefulness instead.
Let us go and learn. Happy reading.
Rabbi Andrea Steinberger serves at the Hillel at the University of Wisconsin, located in The Barbara Hochberg Center for Jewish Student Life in Madison.