Compassion & Curiosity: Moses & Me
The Legacy of Bat Pharaoh and How it Transformed Moses' Life
We learn the story so often as children that we can recite it by heart- baby Moses, placed on the Nile in a tarred basket by his mother, is rescued by the Egyptian princess, grows up in Pharaoh’s palace, chooses to align with his brethren, runs away, makes a life for himself and reluctantly returns.
What we need is to relearn the story through adult eyes- to consider the incredible implications of every step of Moses’ journey and to consider all the iterations of Moses that could have been…but did not come to be.
Let’s begin with Moses’ name.
Bat Pharaoh, Pharaoh’s daughter, has gone down to the Nile to bathe. She discovers a Hebrew child and rescues him. After he is nursed and weaned, ironically by his own mother, comes the iconic naming.
וַיִּגְדַּ֣ל הַיֶּ֗לֶד וַתְּבִאֵ֙הוּ֙ לְבַת־פַּרְעֹ֔ה וַֽיְהִי־לָ֖הּ לְבֵ֑ן וַתִּקְרָ֤א שְׁמוֹ֙ מֹשֶׁ֔ה וַתֹּ֕אמֶר כִּ֥י מִן־הַמַּ֖יִם מְשִׁיתִֽהוּ׃ When the child grew up, she brought him to Pharaoh’s daughter, who made him her son. She named him Moses, explaining, “I drew him out of the water.”
There are many analyses of this name, its meaning, whether its origins were Hebrew or Egyptian (for a full rendering of these check out ‘Between the Lines of the Bible’ by Yitzchak Etshalom). For now, let us assume it means exactly what it is translated to mean- that the daughter of Pharaoh is naming Moses based on her compassionate action of saving him from death on the Nile.
Why does it matter?
Because names matter. Names are a window to our identities, to the ways in which we define ourselves.
In the Disney version of ‘The Hunchback of Notre Dame,’ Clopin reveals, “And Frollo gave the child a cruel name, a name that means half-formed, Quasimodo.” (See minute 1:30 of the below clip.)
For the rest of his life Quasimodo will bear this name, a name that focuses on his physical deformity.
In contrast, the daughter of Pharaoh names Moses based on her compassionate action. For the rest of his life, he will carry a name that indicates first, that he is not her biological child. She is declaring that he was adopted, a Hebrew, not an Egyptian. Second, that the only reason he was saved was because someone had mercy on him.
What does it do to a child to be raised knowing he only exists because someone had compassion on him?
Something very powerful.
I’ll provide an example.
I teach an Ethical Dilemmas course and one of the topics we discuss is abortion- in secular law and Jewish law. One of the most powerful moments I experienced over the years was when a young teenager stood up, bearing himself with dignity, and announced that the only reason he was alive was because his mother had chosen not to abort him.
“I am adopted,” he said, “and I am happy I am alive. I think it is reasonable to ask that women consider putting their children up for adoption.”
The whole class was silent.
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks discusses the daughter of Pharaoh’s unique courage.
She is one of the most unexpected heroes of the Hebrew Bible. Without her, Moses might not have lived. The whole story of the exodus would have been different. Yet she was not an Israelite. She had nothing to gain, and everything to lose, by her courage. Yet she seems to have had no doubt, experienced no misgivings, made no hesitation. If it was Pharaoh who afflicted the children of Israel, it was another member of his own family who saved the decisive vestige of hope: Pharaoh’s daughter.
[…]
Note the sequence. First she sees that it is a child and has pity on it. A natural, human, compassionate reaction. Only then does it dawn on her who the child must be. Who else would abandon a child? She remembers her father’s decree against the Hebrews. Instantly the situation has changed. To save the baby would mean disobeying the royal command. That would be serious enough for an ordinary Egyptian; doubly so for a member of the royal family.
Nor is she alone when the event happens. Her maids are with her; her slave-girl is standing beside her. She must face the risk that one of them, in a fit of pique, or even mere gossip, will tell someone about it. Rumours flourish in royal courts. Yet she does not shift her ground. She does not tell one of her servants to take the baby and hide it with a family far away. She has the courage of her compassion. She does not flinch.
[…]
Pharaoh’s daughter did not simply have a moment’s compassion. She has not forgotten the child. Nor has the passage of time diminished her sense of responsibility. Not only does she remain committed to his welfare; she adopts the riskiest of strategies. She will adopt him and bring him up as her own son. This is courage of a high order.
--Covenant and Conversation, Exodus: The Book of Redemption, pages 25-27
Leon R. Kass in ‘Founding God’s Nation’ takes it further.
Why does she adopt him, and with what intention does she bring him to the palace? From one perspective, Moses could seem to her a consummate Egyptian, for he appears as a gift of the Nile. Moreover, to have escaped drowning in the river, he must be a blessed child, with special magical qualities or else divine protection. Yet Moses owes his survival only to her intervention, to her compassion in drawing him out, in defiance of current Egyptian policy. Perhaps she is already opposed to her father’s rule, and perhaps, as indicated by the name she gives him, she intends to raise him in a way that will keep him aware of his Hebrew origins.
Whatever her intentions, Moses for his entire life will carry a name embodying his adoptive mother’s compassion. Drawn out of the water, he will draw his own people out of the sea of their despair and literally out of mortal danger at the Sea of Reeds. Though he will display spirit and practice violence, the compassion of the women in his life will remain with him- not just in name but in deed. For this reason, too, he is a fit candidate to carry out the work of a strong, awesomely powerful, yet loving and merciful God.
-page 44
I read an approach which I cannot find (I fruitlessly searched online and offline for the source, maybe one of you can find it for me) that said that Bat Pharoah did indeed reject her father’s policies. In acting compassionately she defied him. But in keeping Moses aware of his origins of birth, she did more than that. She helped him understand where he came from and who his brethren were. She- a non-Jew - was the role model who practiced and demonstrated compassion and took action- the same compassion and bias for action that Moses would later exhibit. The qualities that make Moses who he is stem from her.
And so it is that one day Moses goes out. He sees an injustice being perpetrated. He knows he must follow the legacy of his adoptive mother, act with the conviction for justice she modeled and taught him, and so he does.
וַיְהִ֣י ׀ בַּיָּמִ֣ים הָהֵ֗ם וַיִּגְדַּ֤ל מֹשֶׁה֙ וַיֵּצֵ֣א אֶל־אֶחָ֔יו וַיַּ֖רְא בְּסִבְלֹתָ֑ם וַיַּרְא֙ אִ֣ישׁ מִצְרִ֔י מַכֶּ֥ה אִישׁ־עִבְרִ֖י מֵאֶחָֽיו׃ Some time after that, when Moses had grown up, he went out to his kinsfolk and witnessed their labors. He saw an Egyptian beating a Hebrew, one of his kinsmen.
וַיִּ֤פֶן כֹּה֙ וָכֹ֔ה וַיַּ֖רְא כִּ֣י אֵ֣ין אִ֑ישׁ וַיַּךְ֙ אֶת־הַמִּצְרִ֔י וַֽיִּטְמְנֵ֖הוּ בַּחֽוֹל׃ He turned this way and that and, seeing no one about, he struck down the Egyptian and hid him in the sand.
Moses had been raised as a prince. The Hebrew he saw was of an utterly different class from him, let alone caste. Despite this, Moses recognized the Hebrew as one of his brothers. The dirt and grime that smeared the man’s face, his lowly status, the fact that he was a slave, meant nothing to Moses. The fact that he was his brother did.
And so Moses acted. He chooses to get involved.
The next day, he acts again.
וַיֵּצֵא֙ בַּיּ֣וֹם הַשֵּׁנִ֔י וְהִנֵּ֛ה שְׁנֵֽי־אֲנָשִׁ֥ים עִבְרִ֖ים נִצִּ֑ים וַיֹּ֙אמֶר֙ לָֽרָשָׁ֔ע לָ֥מָּה תַכֶּ֖ה רֵעֶֽךָ׃ When he went out the next day, he found two Hebrews fighting; so he said to the offender, “Why do you strike your fellow?”
וַ֠יֹּ֠אמֶר מִ֣י שָֽׂמְךָ֞ לְאִ֨ישׁ שַׂ֤ר וְשֹׁפֵט֙ עָלֵ֔ינוּ הַלְהׇרְגֵ֙נִי֙ אַתָּ֣ה אֹמֵ֔ר כַּאֲשֶׁ֥ר הָרַ֖גְתָּ אֶת־הַמִּצְרִ֑י וַיִּירָ֤א מֹשֶׁה֙ וַיֹּאמַ֔ר אָכֵ֖ן נוֹדַ֥ע הַדָּבָֽר׃ He retorted, “Who made you chief and ruler over us? Do you mean to kill me as you killed the Egyptian?” Moses was frightened, and thought: Then the matter is known!-
Moses was puzzled by what he saw. Was it not bad enough that the Egyptians were the overlords of the Hebrews, hurting them and striking them? Why would a Hebrew turn against his fellow and hurt him as well? But when he tried to make this point, to indicate the common humanity that was so obvious to him, the Hebrew turned upon him with a sneer. He demonstrated that Moses’ life was in his hands and he would not hesitate to give it up.
The fellow feeling, the brotherhood that Moses felt, that had caused him to kill an Egyptian…this Hebrew felt none of it towards him. Moses was repudiated, rejected. It must have been a very difficult experience.
It is at this point that we might expect Moses to make a choice. It’s the choice that Elphaba makes in the musical ‘Wicked’ when she sings “No Good Deed Goes Unpunished.”
… No good deed goes unpunished
No act of charity goes unresented
No good deed goes unpunished
That's my new creed
My road of good intentions
Led where such roads always lead
No good deed
Goes unpunished… Nessa
Doctor Dillamond
Fiyero
Fiyero![…]
… All right, enough
So be it, so be it then
Let all Oz be agreed
I'm wicked through and through… Since I cannot succeed
Fiyero, saving you
I promise no good deed
Will I attempt to do again
Ever again… No good deed will I do again!
The Moses who would act like Elphaba would decide he was done with the Hebrews. These wicked, ungrateful people refused to see him as one of their own. Instead, they were willing to risk his life, telling Pharaoh of what he did so that he might be executed. Given that they want no part of him, why would he want any part of them? More broadly, what is the point of getting involved, of trying to make the world better? It’s only going to lead to misery.
וַיִּשְׁמַ֤ע פַּרְעֹה֙ אֶת־הַדָּבָ֣ר הַזֶּ֔ה וַיְבַקֵּ֖שׁ לַהֲרֹ֣ג אֶת־מֹשֶׁ֑ה וַיִּבְרַ֤ח מֹשֶׁה֙ מִפְּנֵ֣י פַרְעֹ֔ה וַיֵּ֥שֶׁב בְּאֶֽרֶץ־מִדְיָ֖ן וַיֵּ֥שֶׁב עַֽל־הַבְּאֵֽר׃ When Pharaoh learned of the matter, he sought to kill Moses; but Moses fled from Pharaoh. He arrived in the land of Midian, and sat down beside a well.
Moses doesn’t choose the easy way out. He doesn’t decide to give up his ideals, his morals, his sense of compassion, his passion for justice. We see that he decides to get involved with other people who are in distress- even when he could have chosen to steer well clear of them.
וּלְכֹהֵ֥ן מִדְיָ֖ן שֶׁ֣בַע בָּנ֑וֹת וַתָּבֹ֣אנָה וַתִּדְלֶ֗נָה וַתְּמַלֶּ֙אנָה֙ אֶת־הָ֣רְהָטִ֔ים לְהַשְׁק֖וֹת צֹ֥אן אֲבִיהֶֽן׃ Now the priest of Midian had seven daughters. They came to draw water, and filled the troughs to water their father’s flock;
וַיָּבֹ֥אוּ הָרֹעִ֖ים וַיְגָרְשׁ֑וּם וַיָּ֤קׇם מֹשֶׁה֙ וַיּ֣וֹשִׁעָ֔ן וַיַּ֖שְׁקְ אֶת־צֹאנָֽם׃ but shepherds came and drove them off. Moses rose to their defense, and he watered their flock.
This shows that Moses has not adopted the creed that it’s better not to get involved. However, the women he saves are Midianites. The real question still lies before him- will he chance getting involved with Hebrews again? The same Hebrews who didn’t want him, who rejected him, who tattled on him and risked his life? The Hebrews who do not see him as their brother, but rather as someone pretending to be chief and ruler over them?
(Note the echoes of Joseph here.)
Indeed, in his book ‘Moses: Envoy of God, Envoy of His People’ Mosheh Lichtenstein writes
The fact that Moshe’s flight to Midian and the silence of the text about his life and activities there are located within the framework of the story’s fundamental timeline- are actually part of the story- can mean but one thing: withdrawal! The silence of the text following Moshe’s flight to Midian indicates that he underwent a withdrawal and a change of direction. He no longer follows the same path as before; he no longer plans to take action among his brethren in Egypt. Instead, he retreats into a life of seclusion and isolation. The silence of the text is the literary expression of a life of solitude in the wilderness, a lifestyle adopted by and maintained by the future leader of Israel throughout the course of those many years.
Since the aim of the Bible’s silence is to turn the very absence of a story into the story, the Midrash does not attempt to provide a complementary picture of Moshe during this period, in contrast to its approach with Avraham’s early days. Moshe’s departure and absence are themselves the story. The narrative has no lacuna that needs to be filled, for the Torah is using silence as a dramatic device to give expression to Moshe’s withdrawal from society- indeed, his abandonment of it.
-pages 7-8
This Moses is licking his wounds. He was rejected. The people he loves and views as brethren don’t see him as such. So he retreats into Midian, marrying a Midianite woman and raising a family.
And then comes the moment of truth.
וַ֠יֵּרָ֠א מַלְאַ֨ךְ יְהֹוָ֥ה אֵלָ֛יו בְּלַבַּת־אֵ֖שׁ מִתּ֣וֹךְ הַסְּנֶ֑ה וַיַּ֗רְא וְהִנֵּ֤ה הַסְּנֶה֙ בֹּעֵ֣ר בָּאֵ֔שׁ וְהַסְּנֶ֖ה אֵינֶ֥נּוּ אֻכָּֽל׃ An angel of the LORD appeared to him in a blazing fire out of a bush. He gazed, and there was a bush all aflame, yet the bush was not consumed.
וַיֹּ֣אמֶר מֹשֶׁ֔ה אָסֻֽרָה־נָּ֣א וְאֶרְאֶ֔ה אֶת־הַמַּרְאֶ֥ה הַגָּדֹ֖ל הַזֶּ֑ה מַדּ֖וּעַ לֹא־יִבְעַ֥ר הַסְּנֶֽה׃ Moses said, “I must turn aside to look at this marvelous sight; why doesn’t the bush burn up?”
You know what this echoes EXACTLY? WHAT HIS NON-JEWISH ADOPTIVE MOTHER DID.
She too saw something peculiar…a basket floating on the water.
She too turned aside from her set task- bathing in the Nile- to find out what the curious sight was. And it was him. Moses.
וַתֵּ֤רֶד בַּת־פַּרְעֹה֙ לִרְחֹ֣ץ עַל־הַיְאֹ֔ר וְנַעֲרֹתֶ֥יהָ הֹלְכֹ֖ת עַל־יַ֣ד הַיְאֹ֑ר וַתֵּ֤רֶא אֶת־הַתֵּבָה֙ בְּת֣וֹךְ הַסּ֔וּף וַתִּשְׁלַ֥ח אֶת־אֲמָתָ֖הּ וַתִּקָּחֶֽהָ׃ The daughter of Pharaoh came down to bathe in the Nile, while her maidens walked along the Nile. She spied the basket among the reeds and sent her slave girl to fetch it.
וַתִּפְתַּח֙ וַתִּרְאֵ֣הוּ אֶת־הַיֶּ֔לֶד וְהִנֵּה־נַ֖עַר בֹּכֶ֑ה וַתַּחְמֹ֣ל עָלָ֔יו וַתֹּ֕אמֶר מִיַּלְדֵ֥י הָֽעִבְרִ֖ים זֶֽה׃ When she opened it, she saw that it was a child, a boy crying. She took pity on it and said, “This must be a Hebrew child.”
Moses cannot escape the legacy his adoptive mother gave him. Curiosity. Compassion. The desire to understand. The desire to change things.
And it is at that moment, that very moment that he reaffirms that he is in fact Moses, the daughter of Pharaoh’s son, the one who was drawn from the Nile, that God chooses him.
He is called. He, the one who was rejected, the one who was playing at being an Egyptian instead of a Hebrew (note that the daughters of Jethro identify him as an Egyptian, and the rabbis make much of this in contrast to Joseph, who is always heralded as The Hebrew) now has a crisis of identity.
Who is he? Who is he really? Can he remain passive and retreat into a modest lifestyle, raising his Midianite family? Can he refuse God?
He struggles with who he is. And it is God who has to remind him.
“You are a Hebrew, Moses,” God all but tells him. “Your brother Aaron is coming to greet you and will be happy to see you.”
Just because those Hebrews rejected you doesn’t mean they all reject you.
Just because those Hebrews wanted you dead doesn’t mean Aaron wants that for you.
The world is bigger than the Hebrews you once experienced. There are other ones, suffering ones, who have never wronged you, and who need your help. Your expertise having been raised as a prince, your knowledge of diplomacy, your ability to interact with the leaders of the age and not be intimidated is needed at this moment.
You need to answer this call.
The story of Moses is very personal to me, because it is my story.
Shemot is my Bat Mitzvah Parsha. When I was twelve, I wrote my Bat Mitzvah speech on the two haftorot, Sephardic and Ashkenaz. But as I got older, I realized the parsha itself speaks to me.
I was in an environment filled with Jews and they told me I spoke “apikorses and krum.”
I was a good kid and the principal of the alternative Jewish school wouldn’t accept me into their school.
So I went away. I licked my wounds. I went to an amazing non-Jewish school. I had incredible teachers like my art teacher Mr. Arnor Bieltvedt, my history teacher Mr. Kevin Randolph and my English teacher Mrs. Kathy McHugh. All these people healed me.
I had a commencement address given by the incredible Mr. Frank Dachille that ended like this.
Be an Impact Player
An "impact player" is someone who joins a team or an organization and whose positive presence is felt immediately. The community is better because they are there. I am challenging you, the members of the Class of 2006, to become impact players. As I hope you realize, you have seen many examples of impact players in your time here at North Shore. You have met them during the past two weeks in your Senior Service projects and during your Service Interims. You have heard them speak to you during the Harold Hines lectures and during Morning Ex. And they have been here at your side.
My appeal to you, the Class of 2006, is this: develop a sense of gratitude, allow that to transform you and motivate you to give back and to serve. There is a quote from Cesar Chavez on the wall near the library that sums it up: "The end of all education should surely be service to others."
And now it is time to say goodbye to the Class of 2006. Know that you will be greatly missed. I will leave you with these words that are much wiser than my own:
In the Tao Te Ching, it says:
"The best of people is like water.
Water gives life to all things
and does not compete with them.
It flows in places people reject and so it is like the Tao."
The Buddha said: "Consider others as yourself."
In the Qu'ran it says: "Good is the reward for those who do good in this world."
And from the religious tradition from which I came, I will send you off with this:
"May Yahweh bless you and keep you.
May Yahweh make his face shine on you and be gracious to you.
May Yahweh uncover his face to you and bring you peace."
Amen
Yes, the Birkat Kohanim is what ended my non-Jewish high school graduation.
And I was called. And here I am today. A Tanakh teacher at a Jewish high school. The same one that wouldn’t accept me when I was a teenager.
There are Jews who will love you and Jews who will hurt you.
The important thing is who God says you are.