Mahatma Gandhi once said, “If you want there to be change, you must be the change.” What did he mean by this statement?
(If you don’t have time for the full answer, go down to after the three asteriks below).
I believe one way to answer this question is to look at an odd arrangement of verses in the Torah portion this last week (Va’era). God tells Moses and Aharon that they are to speak to the Jewish people and to Pharaoh and liberate the Jewish people from Egyptian bondage. The dramatic story of the Exodus from Egypt then continues with the introduction of the ten plagues … but before it does, there is a strange digression in the text in which the family lineage of three of the tribes — Reuben, Simon and Levi — is explored in depth. Why? Why interrupt one of the most powerful stories of all time with such mundane information. It seems totally out of place – both textually and spiritually.
Before we answer this question, let us note another oddity, and that is in the verse that immediately precedes this strange digression, the verse we have already mentioned above about “God commanding Moses and Aharon to speak to the Jewish people and to Pharaoh to liberate the Jewish people …” Why must Moses and Aharon speak first to the Jewish people? Moses has already told them that he is representing their interests in front of Pharaoh. If the goal is the liberate the Jews — and every commentator agrees that this is indeed the essential mission — then why speak to the Jews at all. Pharaoh is the one holding them captive. Speak to him directly! Insist that he let them go! What does Moses have to say to the Jews themselves?
One possible answer – mentioned by many – is that Moses had to convince the Jewish people first and foremost that they deserved – and would receive – liberation. If they doubted the possibility themselves, or worse, if they didn’t even want to leave, then there was no way Moses would be able to convince Pharaoh to let them go. And indeed, that was a distinct possibility. The Netzivdraws a comparison between the Jewish people and a bird held in the hand of a King. At any moment, the King could strangle the bird and kill it; so too with the Jewish people. At any moment, Pharaoh could decide he’s had enough and slaughter all of his slaves. Only God could rescue us (and God did, with an “outstretched arm”).
But another possibility could also exist. Let’s say the King opened his hand to let the bird go free … there’s no guarantee that the bird would would chooseto fly away. Maybe it felt comfortable in the hands of the King; maybe it had no idea of where it should go and figured it might as well stay in the place it knows as opposed to travel to a place it doesn’t know; or maybe it was just too tired to fly away. So too with the Jewish people. Even if God smote Pharoah and forced him to ‘open his hands’ so the Jews could leave, the Jews still had to have the desire to take the first step and actually leave.
It was to convince the Jews that they needed this desire — that they were indeed commanded to take the first step — that inspired God’s command to Moses and Aharon to firstspeak to the Jewish people about their liberation and only afterwards address Pharoah. (This is the reason, says the Netziv, why the Torah describes God also liberating the Jewish people with “a strong hand.” The “outstretched hand” above refers to the times when God save the Jewish people from Pharoah, while the “strong hand” refers to the times when God saves the Jewish people from themselves).
The Meshech Chochmah goes a step further. He notes that not only were some of the slaves fearful of leaving Egypt, and thus in need of some persuasion from Moses and Aharon, but they were actually content with their lives in Egypt. And not only that … Some of the Jews were actually slave-owners themselves! This is a shocking statement, but after a moment or two of reflection, it seems entirely plausible. After all, even during the dark days of the Holocaust, there were some Jews who preferred to take advantage of the misery of their fellow Jews and elevate themselves as a result of denigrating their brothers and sisters. And it doesn’t just seem possible from a logical point of view; textually, too, it makes sense that some Jews might have been slaveholders.
And here is where we get back to our initial question, the question of why the Torah digresses to include the family lineage of the tribes of Reuben, Simon and Levi. The Meshech Chochmah notes that each of these three tribes did not have a complete inheritance in the land of Israel once the Jewish people are in fact liberated and brought to their homeland. Levi, of course, is not allowed to own land at all; Reuben is relegated to the other side of the Jordan river; and Simon’s population is spread throughout the entire land. The Meshech Chochmah then goes on to note that we are told that the tribe of Levi never was enslaved in Egypt. Perhaps this fact is the reason why they are not allowed to inherit land in the future, he suggests. Perhaps one can only acquire a reward if he first suffers for it. If that is true, he continues, then perhaps Reuben and Simon also were prevented from a complete inheritance for the same reason. And if all three of them were not enslaved during this time, does it not seem entirely feasible that some of their members took advantage of the situation — of their elevated and protected status — and actually enslaved some of their brothers and sisters?
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From these two insights – first the one from the Netziv and then the Meshech Chochmah’s – an incredibly powerful lesson becomes apparent. Before God commanded Moses to speak to Pharoah, God insisted that he must first address the Jewish people, and not just address them, but give them reproof. “Before I can go tell Pharoah to let you go,” Moses seemed to be saying, “You must first be completely worthy of being let go. You must have the desire for liberation (Netziv); and you must not have any flaws or negative behaviors similar to the Egyptians (Meshech Chochmah). We must get our own house in order before we can insist on the same from anyone else, no matter how evil and wrong the other may be.”
This idea is, of course, relevant for all of us today. If we want something to happen, or someone to change their ways, then we must be sure we are pure in our actions first. Or, to quote Gandhi, if we want change, we must be the change.
Therefore, if a parent wants their child to become a scholar and to be more dedicated to Jewish learning, then the first step is not to send them to a Jewish school or another extracurricular activity, but for the parent to enroll him or herself in a serious learning program. The child will learn that the parent values education, and then want the same for him or herself. [This insight is affirmed in the wonderfully entertaining book Freakonomics. In it, the authors prove that one of the greatest indications of academic success is the presence of books in the house in which the child grows up — mind you, not children’s books, but adult books read by the adults in the house. This fact, surprising though it sounds, provides a much greater indication of later academic success than what I would have thought would play that role: actually reading to one’s kids. No, the studies argue, reading to one’s kids is not the best thing you can do (though of course it helps); rather, reading yourself is even a more powerful aid.
Similarly, if one feels that not enough dedication is being devoted to a specific cause — let’s say the building up of the land of Israel — then the answer is not to critique those who you feel lack the dedication, but rather to redouble one’s own efforts at expressing one’s commitment to the cause.
And so too with our difficult relations with fellow Jews of different backgrounds and religious or political beliefs. If you want peace amongst us, then finding the flaws in our fellow Jews is not the right path. Rather, one must become a walking Ohev Israel – Love of Israel. He must greet every person with a smile, a warm embrace and loving concern.
If we want change to come, we must be the change.
Or as Michael Jackson once sang, “I’m starting with the man in the mirror.”