Parashat Chukkat פָּרָשַׁת חֻקַּת

In Parshat Chukkat , we read a narrative that perplexes many of our greatest scholars. Let’s remind ourselves of the story: The people complain that they do not have water, and once again they bemoan their having left Egypt. 

“Why did you make us leave Egypt to bring us to this wretched place, a place with no grain or figs or vines or pomegranates?  There is not even water to drink!” 

In response, the presence of God appears to Moses and Aaron and he commands them to “assemble the community” and order the rock to yield its water.  But Moshe does not do as God commands; instead, he strikes the rock not once but twice, and copious water flows from the rock.  But what an enormous price to pay!

God tells Moshe that, because he struck the rock, he is not allowed to enter the Promised Land.  After leading the Israelites for forty years, through so many trials and tests, how could Moses be denied entry to the land? As Rabbi Kushner, Z”L, notes in the below-the-line commentary in our chumash Etz Hayyim,

“Why should Moses, who has served God so loyally for so many years through so many trying times, be so harshly punished for what seems like a minor infraction?”

Rabbi Kushner notes that the punishment seems, to use his word, ‘disproportionate’.   That’s an understatement: What could possibly have been so sinful to warrant such a terrible punishment?
After 40 years in the desert with these people, we can guess that Moshe has little patience left for their whining and their ingratitude. Also, we should not forget that Moshe has just lost his sister Miriam and was still in mourning for her.  And Miriam herself had been the person to bring water in the desert to the Israelites.  So it makes sense that Moses would associate the absence of water with her death and feel even more powerless and distraught.  And that he would “lose his cool” as a result.

And does Moses ever lose it! Not only does he throw a tantrum. He says, “Shimu na hamorim”--listen, you rebels! Shall we get water for you out of this rock?” 

We know that Moshe has a short fuse, and this incident in Chukkat is not the first where we see him display his temper.  Early in his career, Moshe saw a taskmaster beating an Israelite slave, and, in a moment of righteous indignation, he strikes the Egyptian, killing him.  Remember too how Moshe smashes the tablets that contain the Ten Commandments when he saw the Israelites worshipping the golden calf. 

But this week’s temper tantrum has disastrous consequences for Moshe, and our sages have struggled to explain the severity of God’s punishment.  Rashi argues that striking the rock rather than speaking to it diminished the greatness of the miracle because it made it seem as though it took more power than it did.  Ramban looks at verse 10, “Shall we get water for you out of this rock?” and argues that that statement seems to be claiming that Moses and Aaron are taking credit for the miracle and not giving the credit where it is deserved, to God.  Other scholars believe that Moshe’s sin started even earlier than when he struck the rock—that it began when he needed to be told that a miracle would occur rather than just having the faith to know that it would occur. Another sage maintains that a prophet who succumbs to anger loses his prophetic ability. And Maimonides argues that Moshe’s sin lies in his name-calling—to Maimonides, his name calling which is really loshan hara—rebels!—means that Moses has lost patience with the people and therefore can no longer be a leader.  If we accept that interpretation, then perhaps Moses’s failure to enter the Promised Land is less a punishment and more a recognition that it was time for new leadership, and that Moses and Aaron are physically and emotionally exhausted.  That seems to be true of Chukkat in general—that this parsha seems to be about the changing of the guard, about the necessity of a new generation moving into the places once held by Miriam, Aaron, and Moshe. As the introduction to our Eytz Hayyim notes, this parsha seems to be about transitions.  The center of gravity is changing here, away from Egypt and toward the Promised Land and away from the old guard to the generation that will enter Eretz Yisrael.

We know that there are disputes for the sake of heaven and disputes not for the sake of heaven. Parsha Chukkat might be telling us that there is also anger for the sake of heaven and anger not for the sake of heaven.  ‘Righteous indignation’ might be a better term for anger for the sake of heaven.  I’ve mentioned examples of Moshe’s righteous indignation; his anger here in Chukkat is a different story. 

I remember reading that Abraham Lincoln had a terrible temper.  I know that’s contrary to the stereotype, but he was a lot more complicated than people tend to think. In any case, Lincoln used to write incredibly angry letters to people who had let him down or failed to follow through on their commitments.  But, unlike some of us [and unlike Moshe], what Lincoln did was he sealed the letter in an envelope, and even addressed it.  But he NEVER SENT IT.  That’s an understanding of the risks of expressing one’s anger. 

Ben Zoma taught “Who is mighty? One who controls his impulses.”  And the Talmud tells us that we should judge a person by three things, three things that sound very similar in Hebrew:  kiso by his pocket (his generosity). KOSO, literally his cup but really his APPETITES, and KA’ASO, his anger.  That we get angry is only human. How we express that anger is a reflection of our character. Knowing when to get angry and how to turn anger into something constructive may be the best measure of our lives.