Each Child is Number One
We’ve gotten to know Moshe Rabbeinu over these last several parshiyos. We’ve seen his character as a man of great integrity who is sensitive to the plights of others and wishes only to help those less privileged. We briefly met his wife, Tziporah, in Parshas Shemos. But for some reason, we need to wait until our parsha, quite late in the story, to learn that Moshe had two sons.
The Torah states that when Yisro came to visit Moshe after hearing of the great miracles, he brought not only Tziporah, Moshe’s wife, but also her two sons, and that their names were Gershom and Eliezer. Moshe’s children have no apparent bearing upon the narrative; why are they mentioned, and moreover, why by name?
Furthermore, in providing their names, the Torah states, (18:3), “אֲשֶׁ֨ר שֵׁ֤ם הָֽאֶחָד֙ גֵּֽרְשֹׁ֔ם” – “the name of the one was Gershom,” as Moshe stated, “I was a stranger (‘ger’) in a strange land.” In the next verse the Torah states that “וְשֵׁ֥ם הָאֶחָ֖ד אֱלִיעֶ֑זֶר” – “and the name of the one was Eliezer,” as Moshe gave thanks that “G-d came to my aid (‘ezri’), and saved me from Pharaoh’s sword.” When naming a list of two things, one usually states, “the name of the one… and the name of the other/second…” But here, the Torah states about the second son, “the name of the one.” Why is that?
Gershom the pagan
A number of commentaries observe that Gershom and Eliezer were very different from each other; accordingly, each was “one” of a kind. The 13th century Tosafist, Rabbi Chaim Paltiel, quotes the Mekhilta to explain just how different they were. When Moshe first came to Midyan and met the beautiful Tziporah, he asked Yisro for her hand in marriage. Yisro agreed on one condition: “Agree that your firstborn son will be committed to the pagan religion of my people, and any sons born afterward will be committed to the G-d of your people.” Moshe agreed and even swore to Yisro that he would keep to his side of the deal.
This Midrash explains why each of Moshe’s sons was “the one.” Gershom was singularly designated for idol worship, and Eliezer was singularly designated for worshiping G-d. We now understand why these sons were introduced at this point. Yisro’s bringing them both back to Moshe in the desert demonstrated his willingness to surrender even Gershom to the G-d of the Jews. He absolved Moshe of the original contract between them, because he saw the great power of Hashem.
It’s shocking at first glance to read that Moshe consented to this bargain. But the Midrash is teaching us that before he had the revelation at the Burning Bush, even the great Moshe did not really understand the G-d of the Hebrews. He knew that his people had their own god, but didn’t understand the idea of monotheism and what it means to “serve” G-d.
Moshe before the sneh
Moshe was no different from anyone else of his time. In the pre-Torah world, man viewed religion as a means of garnering favor from the gods. The deal with Moshe was merely Yisro’s way of blending two cultures with two different religions and deities. People in the ancient world believed that their deity was the key to receiving benefits, and Yisro simply wanted his grandchildren to have the best possible future, by having the gifts of both cultures’ gods. The reason why Moshe agreed was because he was still in his pre-revelatory stage, where he, too, understood religion the same way Yisro did.
But once Hashem revealed Himself to Moshe as the unitary Y-H-V-H, Moshe completely adjusted his paradigm. The dilemma now was: how would he deal with his wife and her family? Could they, too, adjust to this new religious perspective? And what about his father-in-law, who was a high priest of Midian?!
Moshe after the sneh
Moshe tried to explain the new concept of monotheism to his father-in-law. In v. 8, Moshe related to Yisro all the different travails they’d encountered after leaving Egypt, and how Hashem had saved them from each situation. Moshe was trying to communicate that there was one G-d who controls all the forces of the world and takes care of all our needs. The Midrash expresses this by stating that Moshe described to Yisro how the Manna could taste like anything one wanted. With a G-d like that, why hedge your bets with multiple deities?
The Torah records that (v. 9) “וַיִּ֣חַדְּ יִתְר֔וֹ”, Yisro rejoiced over hearing the news. But the word “וַיִּ֣חַדְּ” is a strange language to describe happiness. Rabbeinu Bechaye suggests that it comes from the word “אחד” – “one.” That is, Yisro tried to envision what Moshe was describing, a G-d who was so all-encompassing that He could address any situation and control any force of nature.
Yisro’s comments to Moshe (in v. 11), that he now saw that the G-d of the Jews was the most powerful of all the gods (“עַתָּ֣ה יָדַ֔עְתִּי כִּֽי־גָד֥וֹל יְקֹוָ֖ק מִכָּל־הָאֱלֹהִ֑ים”), demonstrated to Moshe that as much as Yisro tried to adapt, he was simply too set in his ways to appreciate this new concept. He mused: Yisro believes in my G-d, and that He is more powerful than the other gods. But he still views a pantheon of different divine beings with different powers, and he just wants to curry favor from my G-d along with the rest of them.
Yitro recognizes God
The verses document that after Yisro heard about all the miracles, he offered sacrifices to Hashem. But in reality, this was not a real “offering” in the way Jews bring korbanos. Rather, the Torah states that (18:12) “וַיִּקַּ֫ח יִתְר֨וֹ” – Yisro “took” offerings to Elokim. The sacrifices weren’t “offered” but “taken;” they weren’t given to Y-H-V-H, which is the normative term when dealing with korbanos, but rather to Elokim.
Moshe’s observation of Yisro’s attitude is the reason why Aaron and the elders partook of Yisro’s sacrifice (ibid.), but Moshe is not mentioned in the verse. Realizing that Yisro was still a pagan priest, he could not bring himself to enjoy a “sacrifice” brought in that spirit even though it was being offered to Hashem. For the same reason, Moshe sent his father-in-law away before the giving of the Torah (v. 27), since Yisro would not have been able to appreciate the experience.
Yitro now, before matan Torah
This is why this story is especially relevant before the giving of the Torah. We now gain a new perspective on the way Hashem addressed the Jewish people before Matan Torah. The novelty of this new religion being introduced at Mt. Sinai was that it called upon the nation to worship G-d not as a means of currying favor, but rather of elevating man into conjunction with the G-d of heaven and earth.
In introducing Judaism to the nation, Hashem thus did NOT say: “I will become your G-d,” but rather (19:5) “You will become to Me a treasure from among the nations,” and (19:6) “You will be to Me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.” There is not a quid pro quo offered here, such as, “If you worship Me, I will give you blessings and gifts in this world.” While all that is true, that was not the foundation upon which Judaism is predicated. We became G-d’s children, and that itself was the ample reward.
The void of Gershom & Eliezer’s story
What can we learn from the story of Moshe’s two sons? We don’t know much about them, but we do know that in a pre-Torah world, where mankind had a primitive and purely utilitarian view of religion, even one’s children were used as pawns in order to find favor with the gods. I think each of us should ask ourselves the following:
(1) Is my view of religion like that of Yisro and pre-Torah man? Do I view my observance as a means of currying favor with G-d and deflecting pain and suffering? Or do I recognize the ennobled function of post-Torah Judaism, which is to cleave unto Hashem, to emulate Him and to have a meaningful connection to Him?
(2) Is my G-d in “competition” with the gods of other religions? Do I view other faiths with suspicion and xenophobia because they worship differently from me? Look at what happens when people of other faiths look at Jews with suspicion and scorn. Let’s try and embrace a more sophisticated religious lesson: As long as man is trying to narrow the gap between heaven and earth, between himself and the Creator, we should accept each other despite our differences, and live and let live.
(3) Finally, for those of us blessed with children, we all have a Gershom and an Eliezer, but sometimes in the same child. It’s very difficult raising children in today’s world, with the conflicting values and messages between the Torah and secular society. It’s very hard for a child to know if they will belong to paganism or Judaism. The Golden Mean of finding some reconciliation between the good within modern man and the Torah is not beyond our grasp, but we must be careful not to give up on any of our children in order to make a deal with Yisro, or any other person in our lives. Make sure your child is “the one.”
May our efforts to live the Torah’s enlightened religious message bring us to the Redemption, bb”a.