The crown that all can wear

In Parashat Pinchas, Moshe was in sight of the Angel of Death. Miriam had died. So had Aaron. G-d had told him “You too will be gathered to your people, as your brother Aaron was” (Bamidbar 27:12-13), so he knew he was not fated to live long enough to cross the Jordan and enter the land. Who would be his successor? Did he have any thoughts on the matter?

The Sages note the previous passage: the story of the daughters of Tzelafchad, who claimed their right of inheritance in the land, despite the fact that inheritance passed through the male line and their father had left no sons. Moshe brought their request to G-d, who answered that it was to be granted.

Against this background, the Midrash interprets Moshe’s thoughts as he brings his request to G-d that a successor be appointed.

“What was Moshe’s reason for making this request after declaring the order of inheritance? When the daughters of Tzelafchad inherited from their father, Moshe reasoned … If daughters inherit, it is surely right that my sons should inherit my glory.

“G-d said to him, ‘He who keeps the fig tree shall eat its fruit’ (Mishlei 27:18). Your sons sat idly and did not study the Torah. Yehoshua served you faithfully and showed you honor. It was he who rose early in the morning and remained late at night at your House of Assembly. He arranged the benches and spread the mats. He has served you with all his might; he is worthy to serve Israel, for he shall not lose his reward.”

Not only was Moshe fated not to enter the land, but he was also destined to see his sons overlooked in the search for a successor. That was his second personal tragedy.

But it is here that we find, for the first time, one of Judaism’s most powerful propositions. Biblical Israel had its dynasties. Both priesthood and later kingship were handed down from father to son. Yet there is a staunchly egalitarian strand in Judaism from the outset, ironically given expression in the mouth of a rebel, Korach: “All the congregation are holy and the L-rd is in their midst. Why do you set yourselves above the congregation?” (Bamidbar 16:3).

It was not only Korach; we hear it in the words of Moshe himself: “Would that all the L-rd’s people were Prophets and that the L-rd would put His spirit on them” (Bamidbar 11:29).

We hear it again in the words of Chana when she gives thanks for the birth of her son: “The L-rd sends poverty and wealth; He humbles and He exalts. He raises the poor from the dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap; He seats them with princes and has them inherit a throne of honor” (Shmuel I 2:7–8).

It is implicit in the great command: “The L-rd said to Moshe, ‘Speak to the entire assembly of Israel and say to them: Be holy, because I, the L-rd your G-d, am holy’” (Vayikra 19:2).

This is not a call to priests or prophets, but to an entire people. There is, within Judaism, a profound egalitarian instinct: the concept of a nation of individuals standing with equal dignity in the presence of G-d.

Korach was a demagogue attempting to seize power, but he tapped into a deep reservoir of popular feeling and religious principle. Jews have never been easy to lead because each is called on to be a leader. What Korach forgot is that to be a leader it is also necessary to be a follower. Leadership presupposes discipleship. That is what Yehoshua knew, and what led to him being chosen as Moshe’s successor.

Throughout most of the biblical era, Israel had prophets, kings and an active priesthood. The dynastic principle — leadership passing from father to son — dominated two of the three. But with the destruction of the Second Temple, kingship and a functioning priesthood ceased. Leadership passed to the Sages, who saw themselves as heirs to the prophets. The famous one-sentence summary of Jewish history in Tractate Avot says: “Moshe received the Torah from Sinai and handed it on to Yehoshua, who handed it on to the elders, the elders to the Prophets, and the Prophets to the men of the Great Assembly” (Avot 1:1).

In biblical Israel, the priests were the primary teachers of Torah. Why did the rabbis not see themselves as their heirs? Priesthood was a dynasty. Prophetic leadership, by contrast, could never be predicted. The proof was Moshe. The fact that his children did not succeed him may have been an acute distress to him but it was a consolation to everyone else. It meant that anyone could aspire to rabbinic leadership.

“Why is it not usual for scholars to give birth to sons who are scholars? Yosef said: So that it should not be said that the Torah is their inheritance” (Nedarim 81a).

The Sages were constantly on their guard against exclusivist attitudes to Torah. One cannot predict who will achieve greatness; therefore, Torah must be taught to all. A later episode illustrates the virtue of teaching everyone:

“Once Rav came to a certain place where, though he had decreed a fast [for rain], no rain fell. Eventually someone else stepped forward in front of Rav before the Ark and prayed, ‘Who causes the wind to blow’ — and the wind blew. Then he prayed, ‘Who causes the rain to fall’ — and the rain fell.

“Rav asked him: ‘What is your occupation [i.e., what is your special virtue that causes G-d to answer your prayers]?’ He replied: ‘I am a teacher of young children. I teach Torah to the children of the poor as well as to the children of the rich. From those who cannot afford it, I take no payment. Besides, I have a fishpond, and I offer fish to any boy who refuses to study, so that he comes to study’” (Taanit 24a).

No nation achieves perfection. There is always a tendency for the most intelligent and scholarly to see themselves as more gifted than others, and for the rich to attempt to purchase a better education for their children than the poor. Yet to an impressive — even remarkable — degree, Jews were vigilant in ensuring that no one was excluded from education, that schools and teachers were paid for by public funds. By many centuries, indeed millennia, Jews were the first to democratize education. The crown of Torah was indeed open to all.

Moshe’s tragedy was Israel’s consolation. “The Torah is their inheritance.” The fact that his successor was not his son, but his disciple Yehoshua, meant that one form of leadership could be aspired to by everyone.

Dignity is not a privilege of birth. Honor is not confined to those with the right parents. In the world defined and created by Torah, everyone is a potential leader. We can all earn the right to wear the crown.