Thought for the Week

Shabbat B'ha'a'lot'cha

Dear Members and Friends,

Jewish people are very good at…complaining.
This remains true today, and it was also true in biblical times. The Torah has many examples of Jewish people speaking out against leaders, demanding change or better conditions.
Not long after the Israelites were freed from slavery in Egypt, they turned to Moses with worries about food and water. Then Moses brought their concerns to God. The response was generous - manna appeared each morning, just enough for the day, with a double portion given on Fridays so they could rest on Shabbat. Water flowed freely, too, and according to rabbinic legends, there was a miraculous well that travelled with people wherever they went.

Fast forward two years. A lot has happened. Since the Exodus, people have stood at Mount Sinai, received the Ten Commandments, and built the Mishkan, the mobile sanctuary with a clear organisational structure around it. Their life seems to have more certainty and order. And yet, in this week’s Torah portion, the complaints return. Life in the desert is hard, they say; the food is the same every day. Back in Egypt, they had more variety.

This time, the Torah focuses not just on the complaints and solutions, but on how Moses responds. This time, he turns to God and opens his heart: “Why are You doing this to me? Why have I not found favour in Your eyes, that I should carry the burden of all these people?... I can no longer carry all this people by myself. It is too much for me.” (based on Numbers 11:11-15) 

That feeling is familiar to many of us. Whether we’re parents, teachers, carers, or team leaders, there are times we reach our limit. Sometimes the weight of responsibility feels too heavy. Moses’ monologue is a raw, honest, and profoundly human reaction from a person who is tired and burned out. Moses is overwhelmed. He’s done everything he possibly could, and still, it feels like he’s failing.

And what does God do? God reminds him that he is not alone, that he has people around him who could support him. Seventy wise and trusted individuals were appointed to assist Moses. This was not a new idea. Moses’ father-in-law, Jethro, had suggested something similar earlier on, and it worked. However, as time passed, the burdens and responsibilities once again fell on Moses’ shoulders.

The Torah offers a gentle but powerful message. Leadership isn’t about doing everything yourself. Facing problems isn’t about collapsing under the pressure, nor about pretending you are fine when you are not. It is about recognising when you need help and having the humility and wisdom to ask for it.

We’re not meant to carry everything alone, not in families, not in communities, not in life. Even Moses couldn’t do it on his own. Why should we think we can? Some find strength in family, friends, and community. Others turn to God. God does not intervene to prevent pain, but God stays with us as a sourse of support in any hardship. This way, people are never alone. Even when we cannot rely on our friends, our families, our communities, there is always God. But God is not something supernatural, not a person-like creature who we can train to do our will. God is much deeper and more complicated. As Jack Riemer beautifully wrote:

We cannot merely pray to You, O God, to end despair,

For You have already given us the power

To clear away slums and to give hope

If we would only use our power justly.

We cannot merely pray to You, O God, to end disease,

For you have already given us great minds with which

To search out cures and healing,

If we would only use them constructively.

Therefore we pray to You instead, O God,

For strength, determination, and willpower,

To do instead of just to pray,

To become instead of merely to wish.

It is that quiet conversation with the deepest parts of ourselves, that we call God, that is the source of strength, determination, and willpower. Such conversation, such prayer might come as comfort, clarity, resilience, or simply the sense that we are not alone. Moses wasn’t. And neither are we.

Best wishes,

Igor