Join us each week as we journey across the United States and gather words of Torah from rabbanim representing each of the fifty states. This week we are pleased to feature divrei Torah from Rabbi Michael Kaplan of Portland, Oregon.
If one were to compile a volume of classic rabbinic derashot, the episode of Moshe striking the rock would be a celebrated entry. The mystery that surrounds it, the philosophical queries that it engenders, and the fall of a great man are all ingredients that can whet anyone’s sermonic appetite. This is all in reference to the second time Moshe strikes the rock in parshat Chukat, though. The striking of the rock in this week’s parsha seems to go without much fuss or fanfare. It is mentioned almost in passing, as if it were normal to hit a rock and expect for water to spring forth.
The Midrash focuses on what seems like a superfluous description from Hashem to Moshe, “and take into your hand your staff, with which you struck the Nile, and go”(Shemot 17:6). Picking up on the reference to the staff as being the same one that was used to bring upon the plagues in Egypt, the Midrash teaches, “[Hashem’s] ways are not like man’s. Man wounds with a knife and heals with a bandage, but for Me that with which I wound, I heal. As it says in the verse ‘and take into your hand your staff, with which you struck the Nile,’ so that all will know that [the staff] is one of miracles” (Shemot Rabbah 26:2 with emendations of Eitz Yosef).
The Midrash is teaching a fundamental message of what it means to be a religious person. Religion can be viewed as a double-edged sword. On the one hand, living a religious lifestyle is very restrictive. From the foods we eat, to the clothes we wear, and the activities we engage in, all must be done within the halachic framework. On the other hand, living a Torah-guided life brings us fulfillment and purpose, and closer to Hashem, the ultimate Source of good. Our perception of the mitzvot is what makes their observance a positive experience or not.
For example, keeping Shabbat can be viewed as a day on which you must stop everything you are doing, detach from the world, and put life on hold. For some, it is a dreaded 25-hour period away from their smartphone and computer. For others, Shabbat is a day of relaxation with the family, a time to “unplug” from the world and focus on what really matters. It is a day that can be devoted to learning Torah, eating meals with the family, and attending synagogue services – activities that may be more difficult to perform during the work week. Both types of individuals look at the clock on Saturday night to see when Shabbat will conclude; the former group with happiness that they can go back to their routine and the latter group with sadness that they are leaving the kedushah of the holiest day of the week.
This is why Moshe was told to use the same staff that wreaked havoc and devastation on the Egyptians to also bring water and salvation to Bnei Yisrael in the Wilderness. It was the same staff, just with a different spin. Our performance of mitzvot can be viewed in the same way. When we pray, we can either view it as a hallowed opportunity to speak with our Creator and pour out our hearts or as a chore we have to do and read the words mechanically, in a rote fashion.