A Sudden Leap in Time

One of the most phenomenal transitions in the Torah occurs in Parshat Chukat. The events of the previous portions—including the debacle of the Spies and Korach’s rebellion—all took place during the first two years of the nation’s desert sojourn. In Chukat, we read of the passing of Moses’ sister Miriam—a sudden transition from the second year in the desert to the 40th!

The parshah begins with chapter 19, detailing the laws of the Red Heifer, laws that the Jewish people received in their second year in the desert. Then, the opening verse of chapter 20 states, “The entire congregation of the Children of Israel arrived at the desert of Zin in the first month, and the people settled in Kadesh. Miriam died there and was buried there.”1 A full 38 years elapse between chapters 19 and 20.

Rashi points out that the word “entire” seems superfluous. The verse could have simply stated that the congregation arrived at the desert of Zin. Why the extra word? Citing the Midrash, Rashi explains that this alludes to the fact that the congregation was now complete and perfected; at this point, anyone who needed to perish in the desert had already died. All that was left was for the leaders of the generation to pass, and for the people, under new leadership, to cross the Jordan River and take possession of the Land.

Moses’ Misstep

The laws of nature dictate that it is impossible for a large group of people to survive for 40 years in a desert, which is why many secular historians question the biblical narrative. Indeed, the Jewish People’s survival in the desert was sustained largely by three prominent miracles: the Manna, the Clouds of Glory, and the Well, which they received in the merit of the three great leaders of that generation—Moses, Aaron, and Miriam.2

The Manna—the bread that came down from Heaven each day—was in the merit of Moses.

The Clouds of Glory—which provided a protective shield against their enemies and a pleasant environment that was cool during the day and both warm and illuminated at night—were in the merit of Aaron the High Priest.

The Well—which provided the people with water for all their needs—was in the merit of Miriam the Prophetess.

When Miriam died, the well disappeared. Now stranded in the middle of the desert without water, the people began to panic.

G‑d instructed Moses to gather the people and, “… speak to the rock in their presence, so that it will give forth its water. You shall bring forth water for them from the rock and give the congregation and their livestock to drink.”3

Moses indeed brings forth water from the rock; however, instead of speaking to the rock, he strikes it with his staff, and for the grave misstep of not following G‑d’s instructions precisely, he is told that he will not merit to enter the Land of Israel. Rather, he will die in the desert.

It is true that some 39 years earlier, the first time the Jewish people needed water, G‑d had indeed instructed Moses to strike a rock. But the instructions were different this time, and Moses failed to comply.

True Leadership

Why, in fact, did Moses hit the rock instead of speaking to it?

After Moses struck the rock, G‑d told him that had he spoken to it instead, it would have greatly sanctified His name. Rashi elaborates, “For had you spoken to the rock and it had given forth water, I would have been sanctified in the eyes of the congregation. They would have said, ‘If this rock, which neither speaks nor hears and does not require sustenance, fulfills the word of the Omnipresent, how much more should we!’”

The Rebbe explains that Moses, the quintessential leader, put the people first, and turned this idea around: “If I speak to the rock and it obeys,” reasoned Moses, “the people, who are not the best listeners, will look bad. I would rather be punished than be the reason my people are shamed. Let me rather demonstrate that the rock did not listen!” This exemplifies Moses’ self-sacrifice for the people, where his own suffering mattered little if it minimized theirs.

Furthermore, according to the teachings of Kabbalah, it was Joshua’s destiny to lead the Jewish people into the Promised Land. Each generation has its leader, its shepherd. Had the Jewish people not sinned, Moses’ generation could have entered the Land with him. However, because of the sin of the Spies, Moses’ generation did not merit to enter the Land. Consequently, the Jewish People’s settling of the Land did not have the permanence that it could have had.

And we see that the settling of the Land and the Holy Temples that were built, did not, in fact, have a sense of permanence. Eventually, there was destruction and exile. Had Moses been the one to conquer and settle the Land, it would have been permanent. No destruction or exile would have followed. However, they didn’t merit this permanence because of their sin, so Moses had to remain in the desert with them. This was his generation. Joshua had to take over.

G‑d, however, had to connect it to something Moses did, so he “used” this seemingly trivial transgression. Additionally, Moses’ severe punishment could also serve to inspire the people to be vigilant in following Divine instructions.

Evolving Discipline

The episode with Moses striking the rock offers a profound and fundamental lesson in parenting.

At the beginning of the 40 years, Moses was commanded to hit the rock to bring forth water; at the end of the 40 years, his instructions were to speak to it.

When our children are young, we should discipline them. As King Solomon said, “He who holds back his rod hates his son, but he who loves him disciplines him early.”4 Spare the rod, spoil the child. This doesn’t necessarily mean physical punishment, but it certainly involves discipline—by today’s standards, it might mean that we take away their iPads, laptops, and other electronic devices for a couple of hours, or perhaps put them in “timeout.” Whatever method we choose, when children are young, we must discipline them.

But with older children, that style of discipline is no longer an option. You have to speak to them. Those who treat grown children the same way they treated them when they were young, risk alienating them, or worse.

You Didn’t Have to Listen

At the same time, we should not always give in to our children’s wishes, even when they are older and think they know best.

Shortly before the passing of my father and lifelong teacher, Rabbi Sholom B. Gordon, of blessed memory, I had the privilege of receiving my final lesson in parenting from him, which is very much in line with the lesson from our parshah.

Some background: After leaving his father’s house, Jacob journeyed to Charan where he married his cousins, Leah and Rachel. After Leah bore him four sons, Rachel suggested that Jacob marry her handmaid, Bilhah, so that Rachel could have children through her. Upon seeing this, Leah then suggested that Jacob also marry her handmaid, Zilpah. Thus, Zilpah bore him a son. Leah said, “ba gad – good fortune has come! Mazal has come!” and she therefore named him Gad.5

Rashi explains6 that the name Gad also stems from the Hebrew word for betrayal – bagad. “You betrayed me,” said Leah, “when you agreed to marry my handmaid, for since I had already borne you children, you did not have to agree to my offer.” Although Leah herself had given her handmaid to Jacob, she felt that he should have refused.

Sitting with my father, he shared something crucial with me: Rashi teaches that bagad implies deception or betrayal, for Leah felt that Jacob had betrayed her by fathering a child with Zilpah. When a surprised Jacob told Leah, “What do you want from me? It was your idea!” Leah countered, “That’s true, but you didn’t have to listen to me!”

“You must remember this as you raise your children,” continued my father, imparting a valuable tool for healthy parenting. There will be times when you may feel like being lenient with your children, granting them what they desire even if it contradicts what you know is best for them. “I should accept my child’s wishes,” you might think. “I don’t want to push them too hard; they made it clear this is what they want to do. I want to be supportive.”

In such situations, before allowing your child to make a decision that could harm their spiritual well-being, find a way to inspire them to do the right thing. Why not simply “be a good parent” and let your children decide for themselves? Because when they grow older, they may ask, “Why did you allow me to go in this direction? Why didn’t you steer me right?” And your defense, “You told me that’s what you wanted; you asked me not to interfere!” might not suffice, as the child will rightfully argue, “You didn’t have to listen.”

Ultimately, our children need our guidance, our direction, our encouragement to do what is beneficial for them. Allowing them to make poor choices in the name of parental love might feel good in the moment, but they will call us out on it later with, “You didn’t have to listen.”

Mourned by All

The time had come, G‑d informed Moses and Aaron: “Aaron shall be gathered to his people.”7 Moses was instructed to take his dear brother to the top of Mount Hor, where Aaron would pass away and be buried. Although it must have been difficult for Moses to accompany his brother up the mountain for his final journey, he did so without hesitation.

Upon Aaron’s passing, the “entire house of Israel” mourned for him. For 30 days—the shloshim period—the entire nation, both men and women, mourned Aaron. This was unlike Moses’ passing when only the men mourned. Why? Because of Aaron’s role as a peacemaker. Aaron’s passion was bringing peace between people, particularly between husband and wife. Aaron loved people and would do whatever it took to keep the peace.8

The Mishnah in Ethics of the Fathers teaches, “Be of the disciples of Aaron: a lover of peace, a pursuer of peace, one who loves the creatures and draws them close to Torah.”9 The Rebbe often underscored the words “one who loves the creatures,” explaining that Aaron loved all people, even those whose only redeeming quality, the only good thing you could say about them, is that they are a “creature,” i.e., that they were created by G‑d. And that’s a lesson for all of us—be a disciple of Aaron and focus on the good characteristics in others!10

Red Heifer Juxtaposition

We find that the narrative of the death of Miriam is juxtaposed with the laws of the Red Heifer. Rashi, quoting the Talmud11, explains that this conveys an important lesson: just as sacrifices bring atonement—and the waters of the Red Heifer serve as a form of sacrifice—so does the death of a tzaddik (righteous person) bring tremendous atonement to the world.

In the teachings of Chassidism, we find that one of the reasons for this is because all the good deeds performed by the tzaddik during their lifetime ascend on high, and a powerful stream of blessings descends back down to us, especially showering with blessing those who are keeping the tzaddik alive by following in their ways and continuing their legacy.

This parshah is often read in close proximity to the 3rd of Tammuz, the yahrtzeit of the Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory, which certainly brings tremendous atonement and blessings to our world. May the Rebbe’s greatest vision be fulfilled—may we merit the coming of our righteous Moshiach, and the permanent settling of the Promised Land—may it be speedily in our days. Amen.