JUNE 20 • 2024 | 57
change. That’s why Moses,
David, Elijah and Jeremiah
found life so hard.
We can say precisely what
brought Moses to despair. He
had faced a similar challenge
before. Back in the book of
Exodus the people had made
the same complaint: “If only
we had died by the hand
of the Lord in the land of
Egypt, when we sat by the
fleshpots and ate bread to the
full, for you have brought us
out into this desert to starve
this whole assembly to death.”
Ex. 16:3
Moses, on that occasion,
experienced no crisis. The
people were hungry and
needed food. That was a
legitimate request.
Since then, though,
they had experienced
the twin peaks of the
revelation at Mount Sinai
and the construction of the
Tabernacle. They had come
closer to God than any nation
had ever done before. Nor
were they starving. Their
complaint was not that they
had no food. They had the
manna. Their complaint was
that it was boring: “Now
we have lost our appetite
(literally, “our soul is dried
up”); we never see anything
but this manna!” (Num. 11:6).
They had reached spiritual
heights, but they remained
the same recalcitrant,
ungrateful, small-minded
people they had been before.
That was what made
Moses feel that his entire
mission had failed and would
continue to fail. His mission
was to help the Israelites
create a society that would
be the opposite of Egypt,
that would liberate instead
of oppress; dignify not
enslave. But the people had
not changed. Worse: they
had taken refuge in the most
absurd nostalgia for the Egypt
they had left: memories of
fish, cucumbers, garlic and
the rest.
Moses had discovered
it was easier to take the
Israelites out of Egypt than
to take Egypt out of the
Israelites. If the people had
not changed by now, it was a
reasonable assumption that
they never would. Moses was
staring at his own defeat.
There was no point in
carrying on.
FINDING COMFORT
IN GOD
God then comforted him.
First, He told him to gather
70 elders to share with him
the burdens of leadership.
Then, He told him not to
worry about the food. The
people would soon have meat
in plenty. It came in the form
of a huge avalanche of quails.
What is most striking
about this story is that
thereafter Moses appears to
be a changed man. Told by
Joshua that there might be a
challenge to his leadership, he
replies: “Are you jealous on
my behalf? Would that all the
Lord’s people were prophets,
that the Lord would put His
spirit on them” (Num. 11:29).
In the next chapter, when
his own brother and sister
begin to criticize him, he
reacts with total calm. When
God punishes Miriam, Moses
prays on her behalf. It is
specifically at this point in
the long biblical account of
Moses’ life that the Torah
says, “The man Moses
was very humble, more
so than any other man on
earth” (Num. 12:3).
The Torah is giving us
a remarkable account of
the psychodynamics of
emotional crisis. The first
thing it is telling us is that
it is important, in the midst
of despair, not to be alone.
God performs the role of
comforter. It is He who lifts
Moses from the pit of despair.
He speaks directly to Moses’
concerns. He tells him he will
not have to lead alone in the
future. There will be others to
help him.
Then He tells him not to
be anxious about the people’s
complaint. They would soon
have so much meat that it
would make them ill, and
they would not complain
about the food again.
The essential principle
here is what the Sages meant
when they said, “A prisoner
cannot release himself from
prison” (Brachot 5b). It needs
someone else to lift you
from depression. That is why
Judaism is so insistent on not
leaving people alone at times
of maximum vulnerability.
Hence the principles of
visiting the sick, comforting
mourners, including the
lonely (“the stranger, the
orphan and the widow”)
in festive celebrations and
offering hospitality — an
act said to be “greater than
receiving the Shechinah.”
Precisely because
depression isolates you from
others, remaining alone
intensifies the despair. What
the 70 elders actually did
to help Moses is unclear.
But simply being there with
him was part of the cure.
The other thing it is telling
us is that surviving despair
is a character-transforming
experience. It is when your
self-esteem is ground to dust
that you suddenly realize
that life is not about you. It
is about others, and ideals,
and a sense of mission or
vocation. What matters is the
cause, not the person. That is
what true humility is about.
As the wise saying goes,
popularly attributed to C.S.
Lewis: Humility is not about
thinking less of yourself. It
is about thinking of yourself
less.
When you have arrived at
this point, even if you have
done so through the most
bruising experiences, you
become stronger than you
ever believed possible. You
have learned not to put your
self-image on the line. You
have learned not to think
in terms of self-image at all.
That is what Rabbi Yochanan
meant when he said,
“Greatness is humility.”
Greatness is a life turned
outward, so that other
people’s suffering matters to
you more than your own.
The mark of greatness is the
combination of strength and
gentleness that is among the
most healing forces in human
life.
Moses believed he was
a failure. That is worth
remembering every time we
think we are failures. His
journey from despair to self-
effacing strength is one of the
great psychological narratives
in the Torah, a timeless
tutorial in hope.
The late Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks
served as the chief rabbi of the
United Hebrew Congregations of the
Commonwealth, 1991-2013. His teach-
ings have been made available to all
at rabbisacks.org.