Vayelech: Moses the Faithful Shepherd — Legacy and Blessing

The one who shepherded Israel for decades is, in our parashah, the very one who takes leave of the role of “the faithful shepherd” as his life draws to a close. Moses—whose very name, in its midrashic reading, points to being “drawn from the water”—is likewise portrayed as the one who drew Israel out of constriction into freedom (meitzarim—Mitzrayim).

The epithet “faithful shepherd” also gestures to Moses’ earlier vocation as a shepherd at the moment of divine revelation at the bush; from that intimate act of tending a straying kid there opened a path of leadership for an entire people. As Exodus already intimates—well before Israel’s own arrival at that site to receive Torah through Moses: 

Now Moshe kept the flock… and he led the flock far away into the desert, and came to the mountain of God, to Ḥorev (Exod. 3:1).

The concept of “pastoral care”—today often termed ‘spiritual care’—has its roots in Moses’ shepherding, long before such a role was attributed to other spiritual leaders. Spiritual care in the rabbinic tradition is not primarily a matter of ruling by force, but of accompanying, guiding, observing, and sustaining the flock in times of danger or transition. It expresses the rabbinic role not as authority and dominion, but in its gentler dimension: in moments of challenge, passage, crisis, and also in moments of joy and celebration

Moses, who indeed began as a shepherd of flocks, became the one who fought for the people’s liberation from bondage, who led them through the wilderness, and who faced the manifold trials of leadership. He was privileged to be the giver of God’s Torah to Israel, and it is natural that at the end of his days his concern is directed toward his people’s future and their fidelity to God’s commandments. As he draws near to parting, there is no question that he embodies the figure of educational and spiritual leadership. He is not without flaws and bears the cost of his errors as well as the challenge of contestation of his authority. Still, his authority is evident, though never isolated: he knows to rely on Aaron his brother, to heed the voice of Miriam his sister, to adopt the counsel of Jethro his father-in-law, and to share responsibility with the tribal heads and judges. Yet the final burden remains his own, and so he alone bears the consequences of his failings.

A Blessing to Joshua and the People, Yet Not Spoken to Moses at the Outset of His Leadership – “Ḥazaq ve-Ematz”

Moses, who had been able to endure a face-to-face encounter with God and to withstand the force of revelation, now confronts the knowledge of his own death. Not all of his aspirations were fulfilled; despite his yearning to enter the Land and to witness the fruit of his labor, this was denied him. On the threshold of death, he entered the Tent of Meeting to transfer the mantle of leadership to Joshua. In this moment one can sense the convergence of his identity as prophet and divine emissary with his humanity as one whose public mission was reaching its end.

Moses said to Him: ‘Master of the universe, after all the glory and all the bravery that my eyes saw, will I die?’ The Holy One blessed be He said to him: ‘Moses, ״What man is he that lives, and shall not see death…?״’ (Psalms 89:49). What is ״who is the man who lives״?… Who is a man like Moses, who spoke to his Creator face to face? But then, ״behold, your days are approaching to die״.(Devarin Rabbah 9:4).

At the time of his farewell from the people, fully aware of his approaching end, Moses turns his attention to the continuity of leadership. He transfers the people’s guidance to Joshua, blessing him—and indeed all Israel—with the words:

Be strong and of a good courage (Deut. 31:7).

Such words of encouragement had never been spoken to Moses at the outset of his own leadership; perhaps he hears them from himself only now, as if bestowing upon his successor what he himself had lacked along his own journey.

The phrase “Ḥazaq ve-Ematz“ recurs also in the Book of Joshua, marking the transition into the Land and the challenges that accompany it. The blessing conveys not only strength for action but also enduring fortitude of spirit. In more everyday terms, one might see in it an early counterpart to the rabbinic blessing “yeyasher koḥakha“ (“may your strength be straightened”). Yet while “yeyasher ko’aḥ“ is offered retrospectively, after a deed has been accomplished, “Ḥazaq ve-Ematz“ reverberates already at the beginning: a blessing that provides sustaining encouragement before, during, and after the act itself.

Moses’ blessing to Joshua, “Ḥazaq ve-Ematz“ (“be strong and courageous”), may be heard as the continuation of a confident yet tempered model of leadership—one sustained not only by strength but also by an animating spirit. That spirit is encapsulated in the word ematz (“courage”), passed on from master to disciple. The assumption is that Joshua, too, would govern with patience and humility, guiding Israel—likened to “young goats,” still young and vulnerable—with forbearance.

As Yalkut Shimoni (Deuteronomy, sec. 931 [Remez Tatkama]) records:

God said to Moses: ‘Take for yourself Joshua son of Nun, a man of strength like you’ (cf. Num. 27:18). At that moment Moses’ own strength was renewed, and he strengthened Joshua in the presence of all Israel, as it is said: ‘And Moses called Joshua and said to him before all Israel: Be strong and courageous’ (Deut. 31:7). He said to him: ‘These people that I am entrusting to you are still young goats [kids], still infants. Do not be exacting with them for what they do, for even their Master was not exacting with them for what they had done…’.

Moses’ leadership may be seen as that of a shepherd whose practice evolved, not one who clung rigidly to fixed patterns. His ability to rely on others was itself a source of deliverance; it generated new layers of reflection and enabled him to transmit from his own experience a sense of continuity—both to the next generation of leadership and to the people as a whole. This is more than the tending of sheep; it is the broadening of shepherding into the care of an entire nation during his lifetime, and into the establishment of an enduring model.

One can almost hear Moses whispering the words to his own soul at the closing of his life and role as Israel’s shepherd, burdened with concern for the people’s fate and their fidelity to God’s commandments. He knows well the reality of sin, the temptation of blessing and curse, the straight path and the crooked one. And though his heart longs for the good, he understands that there is no certainty: God Himself had told him that times of obedience and of rebellion alike were yet to come—periods of reward and of punishment.

In this year the Parashah is read during the Ten Days of Repentance, and thus it is accompanied by the Haftarah from Hosea, with some communities adding passages from Joel or Micah. The prophets’ voices join that of Moses: a call to turn back from every evil path, to return to God, and to choose the good. Blessings and curses are always set forth as living alternatives, and we are summoned to choose anew each time—to exert ourselves, to find strength, to sustain faith. The path of evil ever lies close at hand, and it is all the more urgent to cleave to the good, to the way of uprightness.

The Place of Women in Moses’ Journey

In the history of Moses as the faithful shepherd, the imprint of women’s presence is unmistakable. This is not always how his story has been told, yet a gendered lens—far from extracting something alien to the text—serves to illuminate what is already there. Jochebed, his birth mother, saved him by setting him in the basket upon the Ye’or [Nile]. Miriam, his sister, stood from afar to watch over him, prophesied the people’s redemption, and dared to speak words both sweet and bitter to which he ultimately gave ear. Pharaoh’s daughter opened the basket and drew him from the water, giving rise to the very midrashic meaning of his name. And Zipporah, his wife, acted decisively in the circumcision of their son at a critical moment, thereby saving Moses’ life—he who became to her a “bridegroom of blood.”

Nor should we forget the daughters of Zelophehad, who entered Moses’ life as an unforeseen challenge. They exposed a gap, a point of blindness, in the existing order; their question compelled him to turn to God. Out of this moment of recognition was born a legal and halakhic precedent that transformed the laws of inheritance for generations, marking also the necessity of acknowledging considerations previously absent from the framework of deliberation.

Each of these women played a role in securing Moses’ survival and in enabling the very possibility of his leadership. Thus it becomes clear that the faithful shepherd does not emerge as an isolated figure. In contemporary terms one might say that his leadership was itself the product of a circle of women who accompanied, rescued, supported, and expanded his capacity for flexibility of thought. In truth, no leader arises in solitude; yet while we are accustomed to noting his reliance on Aaron, on Jethro, on judges, tribal chiefs, and finally on Joshua, we too rarely include in our vision the role of the women.

The Torah of life that Moses bequeathed is both law and spirit, instruction and teaching for life. Miriam’s well does not stand alone as her possession, nor as a symbol confined to a feminine axis; it signifies a deeper metaphorical well, linked to the encounter of Moses and Zipporah and resonant with the lives of our other ancestors as well.

Moses as an Enduring Model of Leadership

The oft-quoted dictum of Rabbi Yosef Ya’avetz, “From Moses to Moses none arose like Moses,” has echoed through generations. Moses is not a figure confined to Scripture; he stands as an eternal source of inspiration. In its original coinage, Ya’avetz’s phrase traced an unbroken thread from Moses our Teacher to Moses ben Maimon—the Rambam. Later voices extended it further, to Moses de León or to the anonymous author of later strata of the Zoharic literature. Nor is it surprising that the figure of Moses also deeply engaged modern thinkers such as Freud, Ahad Ha-Am, and others, both within the monotheistic traditions and beyond them.

A poem by the poet Dina Saperstein may be read as a kind of spiritual testament of Moses. It interweaves the contours of his life in such a way that we seem to hear his voice in the first person: reflecting on the struggles he bore across a lifetime, and closing with a declaration at once confident—“I am Moses”—and fading, as though it were to say, “I once was Moses.”

Moshe Rabbeinu | Dina Saperstein

How shall I sweeten my tongue in my mouth,
while you swarm like ants at eventide?
How shall I bear the heavy weight of you,
When upon the stone I cast disgrace?

How shall I walk in a wilderness of life,
with no path of exit for me to find?
When I knew my sin before the Name,
in vain my prayer would fade away.

And sorrow widened within me,
my tongue clung fast to my palate,
the breath of the spirit burned my nape
when the hour drew near, when my voice would be heard.

The way grew gray, and so did my hair,
a voice embracing sheaves of light upon my beard.
The breath of my mouth grew heavy upon me,
before my heart was stilled.

Be strong and of good courage, Joshua,
for you shall bring my children into the land.
O Lord my God, You have not forgotten me,
for You set before me both life and the good.

I am Moses.