With Hashem’s support, Moshe naturally “obeyed his father in law, and did all that he said” (Shemos 18:24).
If viewed simply as a matter of information transference, there is no question that Moshe’s position was correct. After all, how can one dare suggest it would be better to hear words of Torah from anyone other than Hashem, or, l’havdil, His most faithful servant?
However, if we are to view limmud haTorah as a process in which each individual is to achieve a degree of personal creative expression and establish his own unique bond, then more room had to be given to each person to achieve that sense of deep connection. “Torah must never be perceived as outdated and irrelevant. It must always be viewed as something fresh and current that everyone runs to receive.” (Sifri, Ve’eschanan 33) And so it was, for many generations.
In the land of Israel of old, each generation had the opportunity to mold the nation in its own direction, for a high court could overturn the decisions of its predecessors. And whatever could be extrapolated by the various rules of the Torah, any local court could express through their own insight…. Now [however] that the environment for real study has been lost, no court has the authority to innovate…so there is nothing left [by] which a generation can express its creativity, nothing they can add… [Meshech Chochma, Vayikra 26:44]
During the past two millennia, the Torah necessarily became confined through its redaction. Opportunities for creativity were greatly reduced, to the point where new experiences, created largely out of suffering and relocation, were needed, as it were, to present opportunities for self-fulfillment. If not for them, our innate drive for creativity and personal achievement would only be able to find broader expression through external means, often with catastrophic results.
What happens to the creative drives of a human being who thrives on the fresh and innovative? They find their outlet in foreign pastures…mistaking Berlin for Yerushalayim…. Then will come the “storm” that will leave them stranded in a new land…where the survivors will rest a bit, rediscover their roots, and begin to rebuild the Torah from scratch…recreating what was lost…. This has been the repeated cycle ever since Yisrael began its wanderings. [Ibid]
Yitro understood that in order for the Torah to retain its central place in the future of Klal Yisrael, it would be necessary to ensure its vitality through personal connection. It is our responsibility, particularly as we continue to suffer the lasting effects of recent physical and assimilationist onslaughts, to further develop that connection, and utilize all our creative energies and resources to help rekindle the dormant spiritual spark that lies within each Jew.
As an executive coach, I like to point out that while Yitro’s primary objective was Torah preservation, he also taught Moshe the skill and value of delegation. Yitro understood the necessity for a Jewish leader to transfer certain responsibilities to others in order to alleviate some of the burden of instruction and judgment.
As a prerequisite for such transference, Yitro stressed the need to closely scrutinize each potential appointee’s credentials as well as their character. He understood that if he were going to succeed in reducing the nation’s dependency on his son-in-law, he would first have to assure Moshe that he could entrust this sacred mission to others. It was absolutely untenable to either man to consider that someone who represented Hashem’s law could be open to accusations of greed or corruption. Only men of unquestionable moral fiber who were above the lure of economic and political gain would do.
