This a text version of my sermon from the 7th day of Passover –
Tradition has long understood the 7th day of Passover as the day the Israelites crossed through the Reed Sea, finally escaping the Egyptians, and that is why the Sages chose the narrative of the Song at the Sea for this morning’s Torah reading. It is a dramatic moment, long anticipated, and our custom is to reflect the drama of the text by standing together as a congregation when it is read aloud. We even participate in the song itself, joining in with the Torah reader when he chants some of the phrases, like מי כמוכה or ה׳ ימלוך לעולם ועד.
But this morning I would like to turn our attention away from that moment of high drama to focus on what is the traditional beginning of this morning’s reading. As with any great moment of life, there was an extensive amount of mundane preparation that preceded the parting of the sea. And the Torah gives us a fair amount of detail about those preparations. The Israelites had to pack their things, and prepare for the long journey that lay ahead of them. They also had to enact the entire Passover ritual, sacrificing lambs and painting some of the lamb’s blood on the doorposts of their homes. And they went to the Egyptians, who gave them provisions and even gold to take on the journey. This was all of the behind the scenes hustle and bustle that went on before they left Egypt, before the drama enacted at the Sea that marks the high point of this morning’s reading.
One can imagine that Moses was quite busy during these last hours in Egypt. He was the project manager, if you will. The Torah tells us Moses met with Pharaoh four separate times just before the Israelis left. He also had to give the people instructions, telling them what they needed to do and how they were to prepare. He must have been running from place to place, from person to person, making sure everyone knew what their role was, making sure that all the preparations had been properly attended to.
And then there is one additional responsibility that Moses carries out, just at the very moment when the Israelites are leaving Egypt, what must have been the busiest time of all for Moses. The Torah tells us ויקח משה את עצמות יוסף – Moses took the bones of Joseph. You may remember that at the very end of Genesis, in fact the second to the last verse of the book, Joseph tells his brothers, just as he is about to die – “you must bring my bones up out of here. Make sure that one day my bones will be taken to the land of Israel.” And here is Moses – some four hundred years later – fulfilling Joseph’s wish.
What commentators notice about this is that Moses does it himself. In everything that was going on, meetings with Pharaoh, preparing more than a million people to leave their homes, the religious rites of the first Passover sacrifices, in all of that, one might have expected Moses to delegate the job of retrieving some 400 year old bones. Even if they were the bones of Joseph. If he wanted, he could have sent someone important – he could have sent Aaron, or Miriam. But he doesn’t – he goes himself, and he schleps.
I am reminded of what I consider to be one of the most valuable lessons I’ve ever learned about being in the working world. As is so often the case, this lesson came to me not in a classroom or a meeting, but in a casual conversation I had with a secretary, these days an administrative assistant, a conversation that took place now about 30 years ago. I was working on my Master’s degree at Maryland, and found a part time job working in Rockville for a place called the Care Center. We had a small office space in the large government complex in Rockville at the center of town, and the secretary of the head of the department sat just across the hall from my desk, and over the months as I worked there I got to know her a bit.
One day we were talking about something – I don’t even remember what – and she said to me that her boss – that department head – was the best boss she had ever worked for. So I asked the natural question – which is? Why? What makes him the best boss you’ve ever worked for? And she said this: he would never ask me to do something he wouldn’t do himself.
Now on the surface that is a pretty simple and straight forward statement. But under the surface there is a lot going on there. What she was really saying was this: “My boss and I might have very different jobs, but – he respects me, he values my time as much as his own, he is not afraid to get his hands dirty, and we are in this together, we are working together as a team to do what we need to do.” And she was saying one other thing – “He is humble. He doesn’t care what his title is, he is not impressed by his own resume, he doesn’t think he is any more important than anyone else here, including me. And that is the kind of person for whom I like to work.”
Let me return now to Moses, and the Torah’s understanding of his character. As large as Moses looms in the Torah, we have very little information from the text about his character. We are never told, anywhere in the Torah, that Moses is brave, or courageous, or wise, or understanding, or moral or ethical. In fact, we are only told one thing – directly – about Moses’ character. We are told that he is humble. (Numbers 12:3) And it seems to me that only a person of true humility, on one of the busiest days of his life, would take the time to dig up some old dusty bones because of a promise made 400 years ago. I guess like the boss of the secretary, Moses also would not ask anyone to do something he wouldn’t do himself.
And I don’t know about you, but that is a very important lesson for a rabbi to remember. Sometimes in the rabbinate it can feel like every day is the busiest day of your life. And you are often told all kinds of wonderful things about yourself. All of it very much appreciated, don’t get me wrong! But if you are not careful, you can begin to believe your own press clippings, if you know what I mean. And at the end of the day you have to strive to keep everything in perspective, to remember that you are no better or no more important that anyone else, no more deserving of respect or attention, no less deserving of doing a little schlepping every once in a while.
Because keeping that lesson in mind not only helps you to be a better rabbi, or whatever else it is you might do – it also helps you to be a better Jew, and a better person. And at the end of the day, isn’t that what we are really all after anyway?