What makes a leader? This is a question that consumes countless books, seminars and leadership training programs in countless Universities and business training models.
But it’s worth noting that there are two different types of leaders.
One, the more commonly considered, is the type of person who leaps forward under challenging circumstances, who inspires others less bold to follow behind. In fact, I have a vivid memory of hearing just that at the end of the IDF’s Officer training course, from a Commander whom I greatly respected: “The measure of an officer is whether he (or she) can become the man whom others will follow, anywhere…”
And yet, there is a second type of leader who accomplishes much more than having others follow behind; he or she inspires others to leap ahead. Such leaders do not lead; they inspire…
Such a person was Cantor (Chazzan) Sherwood Goffin, who first taught me to read from the Torah and whose beautiful Shabbat tunes and guitar playing inspired me in so many ways. Much of what I am, I owe to him, and every year on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur when I have the privilege of leading Yeshivat Orayta in the High Holiday (Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur) prayers, his melodies still echo in my head. This week’s thought is dedicated to his memory.
There is a fascinating detail in the story of Moshe which of course is the beginning of the story of the Exodus, perhaps the greatest upheaval in human history.
Moshe himself seems to be somewhat missing from the beginning of his journey. After the brief description of his birth and subsequent salvation on the Nile River at the hands of Pharaoh’s daughter, the Torah fast-forwards to Moshe as a teen:
“And the lad grew (up) and ventured out to see how his brethren were faring…”
(Shemot (Exodus) 3:11)
This leads to the famous story of Moshe saving a hapless Jewish slave from the punishing whip of his Egyptian taskmaster. So why is Moshe’s name not mentioned? Why is he simply called ‘the lad’?
This of course, is not the only time we find Moshe’s name conspicuously missing. This week, we will read from the Haggadah on the night of the Seder and we will find Moshe’s name mentioned only once!
Only in the description of the great miracle of the splitting of the sea will the Haggadah quote the famous verse: “…and they (the Jewish people) believed in Hashem (G-d) and Moshe His servant.”
And if you ever heard discussed the idea that Moshe’s name is completely missing from the Haggadah you were not misinformed; in fact, Maimonides does not include the section of the splitting of the sea in his Haggadah, (Maimonides’ position as that only the miracles of the night and day we left Egypt are described at the Seder; the splitting of the sea was a full week later and is thus not in the Rambam’s Haggadah, thus excluding Moshe entirely from the Seder!
Jewish tradition suggests that the Rabbis were very careful in compiling the Haggadah, recognizing that people might so idealize Moshe he would become like a G-d, something obviously forbidden in Jewish tradition. But perhaps there is something deeper going on here….
In fact, as we have previously discussed, there is another place one finds Moshe’s name conspicuously absent. From the time of his birth, in the portion of Shemot (the beginning of the book of Exodus), until the end of the Torah (the Five books aptly named the Five books of Moses) Moshe’s name receives mention in every portion, save one; the portion of Tetzaveh: This is the only portion in all the last four books of the Torah (after his birth) that contains no mention of Moshe’s name.
Many suggestions have been offered and the Midrash suggests that when Moshe, in his attempt to save the Jewish people after the debacle of the Golden Calf, pleas before G-d to be ‘erased from His book (the Torah) “if you will destroy this people” (Shemot (Exodus) 32:32), the decree of such a Tzaddik (righteous person) must be fulfilled to some degree. So Hashem leaves out the mention of Moshe’s name in this week’s portion.
The obvious question then is why specifically this portion? Perhaps because this portion, in discussing the mitzvah to build a Mishkan (the Tabernacle, which was the predecessor of the Temple) focuses largely on the role of the Kohanim (priests) both in the daily lighting of the golden menorah, with which the portion begins, as well as the special clothing the Kohanim wore, discussing as well the special ceremony (the shmoneh ye’mei miluim) inducting Aaron and his sons into the priesthood.
In short, this portion actually introduces the Kehuna, the priesthood, even though the actual dedication and commencement of their service will only begin in the next (third) book of the Torah: Vayikra (Leviticus).
One might have expected to find some hint of jealousy or at least hesitation on Moshe’s part considering this was a role neither Moshe nor any of his offspring ever be able to enjoy.
Yet, Moshe displays not a hint of jealousy or struggle. And, perhaps to make this point, does not even include his own name in the entire portion.
It is interesting to note that Moshe was perhaps following Aaron’s own lead on this topic. When Moshe debates with G-d Himself whether he is the most appropriate person to lead the Jewish people out of slavery, he suggests that Aaron might be a better choice especially as he remained with the Jewish people in Egypt whilst Moshe was leading a much easier life in Midian. Yet Hashem’s response is that:
“Aaron your brother will come out to greet you, and will rejoice in his heart.” (ibid. 4:14)
Indeed, Aaron himself displayed not a hint of envy or struggle with Moshe being appointed the leader of the Jewish people, he simply rejoiced in Moshe’s arrival.
This is especially significant given the enmity found so often amongst brothers in the Torah. In fact the first murder was between brothers when Cain killed Abel, not to mention the conflict that existed between Yitzchak and Yishmael, Yaakov and Esau, and of course Joseph and his brothers.
One wonders where these two brothers, along with their sister Miriam (a prophetess in her own right who clearly shared this trait), learned this impressive attitude of humility; they must have had incredible parents. Yet, we know very little about their parents; indeed the first time we find mention of them, they too are not even mentioned by name: they are simply described (ibid. 2:1-2) as a man and a woman (“Ish” and Isha”).
Interestingly, this the same term used in Pirkei Avot (ethics of the Fathers) when describing the value of stepping up when there is no one else to do the job:
“Bemakom she’ein anashim, hishtadel le’hiyot ISH.”
“In a place where there are no men, strive to be a man.” (Avot 2:6)
Which can be summarized to mean; when there is no one to do the job, you have to try to be the one to step up and get it done.
One day, now a teenager Moshe ventures out and sees the suffering of his brothers, sees an Egyptian beating a Jew, and (ibid. v.12) “…looks back and forth and sees there is no man (ISH) …” .Here too Moshe is not named , he is described as a ‘lad’.
Because to be a leader a person has to get his ego out of the way; it has to be about the larger picture; the job that needs to get done; the greater cause, and the people….
In fact, the smaller the ego, the greater the leader. It is not coincidental that Moshe’s greatest trait was his extreme humility. Character development most often centers on the ability of a person to make it less about him or herself, and more about the bigger picture, and the people and/or cause that is meant to be served.
If, as an example, a person is envious of what someone else has , be it position or property, it is a clear indicator he or she has not accepted that G-d (Hashem) has a different role or purpose in mind for them which is why they don’t have whatever it is they are jealous of….
In fact, healthy systems of government inherently have a well thought-out separation or balance of powers which entail leaders realizing not only what they are meant to do, but just as much what they are not meant to do. When the president starts to interfere with the judiciary, things get complicated quickly. And the same is true in healthy institutions and endeavors in general: if the CEO gets too involved with what the accounting department is doing, it doesn’t work….
This, then, was Moshe’s greatness: he knew when to get out of the way; his goal was never the greatness of Moshe, it was always the greatness of G-d.
It is indeed no accident that the greatest leader in Jewish history was also described as its most humble servant. Moshe was a model of selflessness, perhaps the most necessary pre-requisite for a truly great leader.
Such a giant of humility was Cantor Sherwood Goffin. I was privileged as a boy to grow up as part of an incredible community in the form of the Lincoln Square Synagogue. Its great leaders, Rabbi Shlomo Riskin, Rabbi Herschel Cohn, Rabbi Effie Buchwald and Cantor Goffin were all giants in their own way, and somehow each knew their role and their gifts, which was what made it such a special place; some of us still think of it as Camelot; it was a magical place, in a magical time.
And there was no-one I can think of, who was more of a model of such pure, sweet humility and fine sterling character as Chazzan Sherwood Goffin.
In all the years I merited to know him, be inspired by his beautiful tefillot (prayers), hear his magical music, share his Shabbat table, and imbibe of his joy for Judaism, I never once saw him raise his voice cannot ever remember seeing him angry and never saw him miss the opportunity to show sensitivity for those less fortunate.
He was content to be the musical soul of the rabbis’ teaching, and he inspired many of us to leap; indeed, to soar as we were inspired by his model of how special a human being could be.
We will miss his gentle voice and special endearing smile. Now, he truly sings with the angels.
May his memory be a merit and a blessing for us all.
Wishing his family comfort, and all of us a Chag Kasher ve’sameach and a wonderful Pesach,
Binny Freedman