By Rabbi Danny Rich

Parashat Chukkat takes its name from one of the more bizarre -even by Biblical standards-rituals of the Torah: the red heifer.

The ritual of the red heifer is a chuk par excellence. Chuk is one of a number of terms including mishpat and mitzvah used in the Torah to categorise Jewish obligations.

Chukkim, of which the most well-known include the kashrut regulations and shatnez, are usually understood as those duties incumbent upon a Jew which appear to be without an obvious rationale. Further, Jewish tradition suggests that there is something unseemly about seeking a rational explanation in such cases. Of the reason behind the red heifer a Midrash relates that even the wisest of monarchs, King Solomon, observes: ‘I have laboured to understand the word of God and have understood it all, except for the ritual of the red heifer’ (Numbers Rabbah
19:3).

Liberal Judaism, founded in England in 1902 with its origins in the post- French revolution Germany of the early nineteenth century, arose in the age of modernity when faith in reason and science led to the rejection of the chukkim which appeared at best inexplicable and at worst primitive nonsense. This attitude was contrary to the prevailing Jewish tradition which affirmed: ‘These laws are decrees from God and we have no right to question them’ (Numbers Rabbah 19:8) and further suggested that there was merit in observing obligations which had no obvious explanation.

Be that as it may, the ritual of the red heifer involves the slaughter and burning of a perfect red heifer and its ashes being used as an instrument of ritual purification for those who have come into contact with a corpse. The exact type of red heifer is unknown despite occasional claims to have discovered a ‘kosher’ specimen, and most rabbinic authorities conclude the procedure to be inoperative in the absence of the Temple.

The more important theme of parashat Chukkat is that of leadership in which the reader observes the beginning of a generational change. Throughout most of their journey from Egypt the Children of Israel have been led by a Divinely selected family of siblings: Moses, Aaron and Miriam. This parashah simply declares (20:1): ‘Miriam died there and was buried’, and, slightly more poetically but in the same chapter (20:29,): ‘…the whole community knew that Aaron had breathed his last. All the house of Israel bewailed Aaron for thirty days’.

It is difficult to imagine the impact these two deaths must have had on Moses. From his first calling at the burning bush (Exodus 3) Moses had been accompanied in his task by Aaron, and, throughout his leadership in the desert Miriam, the sister who saved his life as a baby (Exodus 2), had been closely associated with his venture. As Moses provided temporal leadership Aaron provided its cultic equivalent and Miriam is credited by tradition with the provision of water. The recorded death of Miriam is immediately followed by a verse which recalls: ‘The community was without water’ (20:2) which enabled the Midrash to create the legend of the well of Miriam which by miracle accompanied the Israelites on their desert journey and endured they never died of thirst.

It is between the deaths of Miriam and Aaron and about the provision of water that the Torah redactor begins to make really clear that the entry into, and the conquest of, the Promised Land of Canaan will be accomplished by Moses’s successor -Joshua. The Children of Israel complain once again that they have no water to drink (20:2-5) so God instructs Moses to take his rod of office and order a rock to produce water (20:6-8). In what appears to be his anger with his people -and there is no (modern) acknowledgment that he was mourning his sister – Moses describes his followers as ‘rebels’ (20:10) and strikes the rock (20:11). Water pours out of the rock and the Children of Israel and their animals are watered (20:11).

The consequences of this incident for Moses are dramatic and definitive. Whilst the rest of our parashah deals with the practical issues of the journey (the encounter with Edom (20:14-21), an attack by the Canaanites (21:1-3), further complaining by the Children of Israel (21;4), the copper snake (21:4-9), and the defeat of Bashan and Og (21:21-35)), the pivotal of the whole parashah is verse 20:12: ‘Because you did not trust me enough to affirm My sanctity in the sight of the Israelite people, therefore you shall not lead this congregation into the land that I have given them.’

Rabbinic commentary has, of course, debated this matter for centuries. What was the exact nature of Moses’s sin and was the punishment a fit disposal for a leader who had made such a vital contribution to the well-being of the Children of Israel and demonstrated a tenacious loyalty to God?

Most importantly what, if any, lessons for today arise from this story. I will suggest three.

First, however initially reluctant and/or ultimately charismatic a leader can be, every leader has their imperfections, and those who appoint them and those who follow them can be intolerant and even harsh in the face of a misjudgement in spite of possibly years of good judgement.

Second, the manner of a leader’s departure can be as important as one’s achievements. Although the Torah itself indicates Moses’s unhappiness with decision, in one of the most poignant pieces of Torah narrative Moses anoints his successor Joshua (Numbers 27:12-23)) and departs with a final unrivalled address to his people (the whole of the Book of Deuteronomy).

Third, leaders face inevitable disappointment and their successors often complete their life’s work and get the credit for it.

The best of leaders are aware of their failings, leave office with dignity and subscribe very personally to the maxim, recorded in the name of Rabbi Tarfon, in Pirke Avot (2:16): ‘You are not required to complete the task, but neither are you at liberty to abstain from it.’

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