Moshe’s name does not appear in Parashat Tetzaveh. The Zohar explains this as stemming from Moshe’s objection to the suggestion made by God to destroy the nation of Israel after the Sin of the Golden Calf, and replace them with a new nation from Moshe’s family. Moshe said to God: “Now, if You will forgive their sin [well and good]; but if not, erase me from the record which You have written!” (Shemot 32:32). Moshe’s threat was successful, and because of that ultimatum, God forgave the people of Israel and did not destroy them.
According to the Zohar, Moshe’s “disappearance” from Parashat Tetzaveh is connected with this story. In effect, Moshe brought this upon himself – being erased from Parashat Tetzaveh fulfills the sanction that he declared on himself. But we have no choice but to ask: Didn’t God accept Moshe’s request and forgive the people? If so, the condition based upon which Moshe should have been erased was never fulfilled, so why was it carried out?
In Tractate Makkot there is a Mishnah that describes the difficult situation of the High Priest whose destiny is tied up with those who killed accidentally. According to Torah law, someone who is an accidental murderer must take up residence in a City of Refuge until the High Priest passes away, creating a situation where residents of those cities all look forward to his death. The connection between the lot of those murderers and the High Priest had to have been difficult for the latter. This background explains the tradition that over the years the mother of the High Priest and his wife would look out for the welfare of the residents of the Cities of Refuge in order to discourage them from praying for his death (see Makkot 11a).
This entire story makes no sense, though. If the High Priest is somehow responsible for the murders, he should receive the punishment he deserves even without those prayers. If he bears no responsibility, why would those prayers have any affect? “A gratuitous curse must will not come” (Mishlei 26:2).
The Gemara offers two answers to this question. One is that each of the High Priests was obligated to pray on behalf of his generation. It is incumbent on the High Priest to make sure that the attribute of mercy rests on the world. For this reason, the prayers for his death cannot be considered “a gratuitous curse.”
The second answer assumes that a curse can be fulfilled even if it is “a gratuitous curse.” Two similar statements are brought by the Gemara –
- With regard to the curse of a Sage, even if it is baseless, it nevertheless comes to fruition
- With regard to the curse of a Sage, even if it is stated conditionally, it comes to fruition.
The proof to the first teaching is the story of Ahitophel. The Gemara teaches when King David dug the drainpipes in preparation for building the Temple, the waters of the depths rose and sought to inundate the world.
David said: Is it permitted to write the sacred name on an earthenware shard and throw it into the depths, so that the water will subside and stand in its place? There was no one who said anything to him. David said: Anyone who knows the answer to this matter and does not say it shall be strangled. Then Ahithophel raised an a fortiori inference on his own and said: And if in order to make peace between a man and his wife in the case of a sota, when the husband suspects his wife of having committed adultery, the Torah says: My name that was written in sanctity shall be erased on the water, then, in order to establish peace for the whole world in its entirety, is it not all the more so permitted? Ahithophel said to David: It is permitted. David wrote the sacred name on an earthenware shard and cast it into the depths, and the water in the depths subsided and stood in its place. Even so it is written that during the rebellion of Absalom: “And Ahithophel saw that his counsel was not taken, and he saddled his donkey and he arose and went to his house, to his town, and he commanded his household and strangled himself” (2 Shmuel 17:23).
The second statement is supported by the story of the prophet Shmuel. The Gemara relates that Eli, his teacher, said to Shmuel, after the latter had received a prophetic vision with regard to Eli, that Eli’s sons do not follow his path:
“Therefore may God do to you, and more also, if you hide any matter from me of all the matters that He spoke unto you” (1 Shmuel 3:17). And even though it is written immediately thereafter: “And Shmuel told him all the matters, and did not hide from him” (1 Shmuel 3:18), it is written at the time of Shmuel’s death: “And his sons did not follow in his ways” (1 Shmuel 8:3), indicating that God did to Shmuel as he prophesied with regard to Eli, and his own sons did not follow his path.
Despite the fact that Eli stated the curse conditionally, Shmuel was affected by the curse.
These two stories prove that a curse has significance, and may be fulfilled even if the reason for the curse no longer exists. Commentaries connect this idea with the situation regarding Moshe. They suggest that Moshe made a conditional statement to God, leading to fulfillment of the conditional statement – erasure from the Torah – even though there was no longer any reason for it to be fulfilled.
I would like to suggest another approach.
God desired to destroy the nation of Israel, and, in response, Moshe says that he no longer wants to be a partner in the Torah, if it is a Torah that destroys those who believe in it. That is why he said: “erase me.” The threat made by Moshe is connected with the threat made by God. Erasure vs. destruction. If You, God, encourage erasure and forgetfulness, perhaps I do not want my involvement in the Torah to be mentioned.
In response, God teaches Moshe that sometimes there is place for erasure and forgetfulness. The atonement that Moshe desires be offered to the nation of Israel also requires forgetfulness. This lesson is taught with a sensitive erasure of Moshe’s name from a single parasha – specifically this parasha, which is often read on Parashat Zahor with the commandment to blot out Amalek and around the date of the 7th of Adar, traditionally commemorated as the date of Moshe’s passing. These highlight both the advantage of forgetting – allowing us to “forgive and forget” – and its challenges.
