Haftarat Parshat Ki Tisa: Leadership Lessons from Moshe, Eliyahu and Esther
The parallels between our Parsha and our Haftarah, and between the lives of their respective protagonists, Moshe and Eliyahu, are significant. Following the reading of the story of the sin of the golden calf, most Jewish communities will hear the story of Eliyahu on Har HaCarmel, in his showdown with the prophets of Baal (though those of us fortunate enough to live in Jerusalem and other walled cities will repeat last week’s Haftarah about Shaul and Agag this week, in commemoration of Shushan Purim).
The connection between these two stories is not coincidental. Both offer profound insights into leadership, redemption and the eternal bond between God and the Jewish people; themes that reverberate throughout the Purim story as well.
There is a great deal of resonance between the two stories, with the Jewish people in both incidents straying as far as they possibly can from God, facing the harsh rebuke of the prophet, after which the people redeclare their loyalty to the divine – making the Haftarah a fitting match for the Parsha.
Yet the connection runs even deeper. Already in the Pesikta Rabbati (4), the 9th century work of rabbinic midrash, our Sages notice that the two figures of Moshe and Eliyahu hold a great deal in common. They are both referred to as ‘men of God’; they both ascend to the heavens; they both flee from wicked monarchs; they both execute idolaters; they both construct altars; they both pray for the Jewish people in the merit of our forefathers; and the list continues.
In these two pivotal Biblical characters, we can identify so many moments and characteristics that mark them both, highlighting what it takes to lead the Jewish people towards commitment to God, especially in moments of crisis.
Yet the Pesikta Rabbati, in the midst of listing all the commonalities between Moshe and Eliyahu, directs our attention to a difference between these two giants of Israel.
When Moshe stands at Mount Horeb (Mt. Sinai), God insists that Moshe stay put – “and you, stand here with me” (Devarim 5:28). On the other hand, when Eliyahu journeys forty days and forty nights in order to commune with God, he elicits the opposite response: “Eliyahu, what are you doing here?” (I Kings19:9) While Moshe is invited to the top of the mount, the gateway into the divine abode, Eliyahu is instructed to keep some distance.
This is reflective of the difference in their relationship with the people, their response to crises, and their leadership style.
At the moment of crisis, Moshe and Eliyahu speak with God differently. Moshe’s response to God after the sin of the Golden Calf is: if You, God, destroy or disassociate yourself from the people, “remove me from Your book.” There is no daylight between Moshe and the sinful Jewish people.
Whereas Eliyahu speaks with God in a way that shows concerns for his life and safety, and the distance between him and the people of Israel. “I (Eliyahu) am moved by zeal for the ETERNAL, the God of Hosts, for the Israelites have forsaken Your covenant, torn down Your altars, and put Your prophets to the sword. I alone am left, and they are out to take my life.”
The contrast between Moshe and Eliyahu shows that leadership requires a commitment to the people even when they are sinful and destructive. Speaking out against the challenges, and even removing those who have perpetuated the crisis are actions leaders sometimes have to take. But effective leaders do not remove themselves from the entire people.
This tension is deeply reflected in the story of Purim as well, when Esther must decide whether to risk her own safety for the sake of her people. Mordechai encourages her to show fidelity to the nation, which is then concretized by her declaration “ka’asher avadeti avadeti” – if I am to be destroyed, then I will be destroyed. This marks the moment in which she chooses solidarity with her people over her own self-preservation.
In our day, we also observe those who may call out the challenges but are still committed to the people. And others who at some point appear to be more concerned about their political life and their future than the needs of the people. “Leaders” who are not willing to engage with all the people even while calling out the crisis are not fit to lead.
In the end it is Eliyahu – after his abandonment of the people – who is demanded by God to appoint a successor; his student Elisha. It is Eliyahu who must be present at every brit milah to welcome in the next generation, testifying that despite our many challenges we have not walked away from the covenant. And it is Eliyahu who will call out the Messianic age, testifying to the eternality of our people and our Divine mission.
Hope always remains!
The stories of Moshe and Eliyahu on their respective mountains also reiterate the role of humanity to take responsibility, furthering the idea of the importance of a leader being strongly connected to his people.
Long, long ago, we all stood together at Har Sinai. But when that moment of revelation finished, there was no encore. The Sinai experience, including Moshe’s extended stay in the thick of the fog in order to receive the Torah, was only ever meant to happen once.
So while it was fitting for Moshe to stay atop the mount, for Eliyahu it was not. “At the sounding of the trumpet, they may ascend the mountain,” (Shemot 19:13) we are told. At the conclusion of the revelation, the doorway to heaven shuts, and all that’s left is a mountain without any residual holiness. All further challenges and crises are for us to face, trusting that the Torah can guide us, rather than retreating back to Sinai in the hopes of receiving further instructions.
This idea is profoundly resonant in the story of Purim. Megillat Esther is the only book in Tanach in which God’s name is not mentioned – a reminder that even in moments when God’s presence seems hidden, it is our responsibility to take action, guided by the values and teachings of our tradition.
Just as Moshe stood unwavering with the people in their darkest hour, and just as Eliyahu was ultimately called to bear witness to the future redemption, Purim calls on us to be present – to confront crises with courage, to strengthen our connection to the community, and to never lose faith that redemption is on the horizon.