5 min read

Moses Could Not Satisfy the People He Saved

Moses fed, defended, and rescued Israel, but the people criticized him anyway. The complaint followed him through every crisis.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Complaint Followed Him
  2. The Spies Broke the Camp
  3. The Serpents and the Storks
  4. The Teacher With No Shelter
  5. The Man Still Standing in the Breach

Moses could not win.

If he rose early, they said he was arrogant. If he came late, they said he was lazy. If he spoke sharply, he was harsh. If he pleaded for them, they forgot by morning. He had dragged a nation out of Egypt, stood between them and destruction, and still the complaints found him.

The man who saved them became the man nobody could satisfy.

The Complaint Followed Him

The wilderness made every need loud.

Water ran short. Food ran strange. The road stretched longer than memory wanted to bear. Israel had left slavery, but slavery had not left Israel. Fear turned quickly into accusation, and accusation needed a face. Moses stood in front, so Moses received it.

The complaint was not only about hunger or thirst. It was about trust. Every discomfort became evidence in a case against the leader. Why bring us here? Why not leave us there? Who made you ruler? Who said your word should decide where the camp moves?

Moses had to lead people who could remember Egypt as food and forget Egypt as bondage.

The Spies Broke the Camp

The worst night came after the spies returned.

Ten men filled the camp with fear. The land was too strong. The cities too fortified. The people too large. The promise suddenly sounded reckless. Israel wept through the night and turned longing backward toward Egypt.

God's anger rose. Moses stood in the breach again. He argued for mercy, not because the people had made it easy, but because his whole office was to keep them alive long enough for the covenant to finish its work. He invoked God's patience, God's name, God's reputation among the nations. The people had accused him, doubted him, and threatened the mission. Moses defended them anyway.

A leader's love is sometimes proved by interceding for people who have just broken his heart.

The Serpents and the Storks

Moses also knew how to solve problems no one else could touch.

In one legend, a city was plagued by serpents. Panic alone would not save it. Moses told the people to raise young storks, to let the birds grow hungry, and then to release them. The storks hunted the serpents, and the city could breathe again.

The story is strange because it shows a different side of him. Not only prophet. Not only lawgiver. A practical mind in crisis, able to see the living answer inside the living threat. The people could complain about him because they did not always understand what he was doing until after the danger had passed.

That was another loneliness of leadership: being judged before the solution had time to work.

The Teacher With No Shelter

Moses' body became a public place.

His words, his gestures, his delays, his anger, his silence, all of it belonged to the people because he belonged to the mission. He could not retreat into privacy without abandoning them. Even his own failings became national events. When he struck the rock, the consequence was not hidden in his tent. It shaped the end of his life.

Philosophers could speak about the soul and its chambers. Moses had to live with a nation moving through his. Every panic entered him. Every rebellion pressed against him. Every mercy he won for them cost him something.

Even his patience became material for judgment. The people watched his face for irritation and his mouth for delay. The leader who had to carry everyone was granted almost no room to be merely human.

The Man Still Standing in the Breach

The complaints did not make Moses smaller.

They revealed the scale of what he carried. A smaller leader would have defended himself first. Moses defended Israel first, again and again, even when Israel's accusation was aimed at him. He could be angry. He could be exhausted. He could plead for death rather than carry them another step. Still he returned to the breach.

That is why the criticism matters. Praise would have made the story easier. Complaint makes the service visible. Moses fed a people who said they were starving, led a people who said they were lost, saved a people who said he had ruined them, and kept asking God to spare them.

No one could satisfy them. Moses kept serving them anyway.

MosesLeadershipWildernessComplaintPrayer
← All myths

From the tradition

Sources

4 sources

The texts this telling draws on, in full. Open a card to read inline, or expand it for a wider, quieter read.

Sifrei Devarim 12:4Sifrei Devarim

Our source today is Sifrei Devarim 12, a section of the Sifrei Devarim, a collection of legal midrashim (rabbinic interpretive commentary) on the Book of Deuteronomy. It paints a rather unflattering picture of some of the Israelites and their constant, well, complaining.

The passage focuses on a single, powerful phrase: "and your heresy." What does this really mean?

In this passage, "your heresy" refers to the people's constant criticism of Moses. No matter what he did, they found fault. If he left his house early to meet them, they'd whisper, "Why is Moses rushing? Is he having trouble at home?" If he was late, they'd accuse him of plotting against them with his wife, just like Korah supposedly did! (The story of Korah’s rebellion against Moses is found in Numbers 16. He challenged Moses’s authority, leading to disastrous consequences). Seriously, you can’t please some people.

It’s a stark reminder that even a leader as divinely appointed as Moses faced relentless negativity and distrust. Think about the pressure! Imagine trying to guide a nation, constantly second-guessed and undermined.

But the text doesn't stop there. It goes on to say "One would expend a sela (only) to gain two; two, to gain three, thus, 'your caviling.'" A sela was a type of ancient coin. So, what's the connection to complaining?

Here, the text is highlighting their insatiable greed. They were never content. They would invest a little to gain a little more, always striving for more, more, more. It wasn’t just about financial gain; it was a constant state of wanting, of never being satisfied with what they had.

So, “your caviling” wasn't just about complaining about Moses; it was about a deeper dissatisfaction, a relentless pursuit of more that fueled their negativity.

What does this all mean for us today? Are we so different? Do we ever find ourselves in a similar trap, constantly finding fault, never satisfied with what we have? Are we expending a little to gain a little more, only to feel empty inside?

Perhaps this passage from Sifrei Devarim serves as a cautionary tale. A reminder to check our own hearts, to appreciate what we have, and to resist the urge to constantly criticize and complain. Because sometimes, the real problem isn't the world around us, but the discontent within us.

Full source
Bamidbar Rabbah 16:28Bamidbar Rabbah

That’s kind of the situation the Israelites found themselves in after the sin of the spies. They'd just heard a terrifying report about the Land of Israel and, gripped by fear, they refused to go. A full-blown crisis of faith. So, what happens next?

Well, according to Bamidbar Rabbah 16, things got God, understandably frustrated, basically says to Moses, "I'm done. I will eradicate them from before Me." Whoa.

Then, Moses steps in. And what he does next is just.. amazing. He doesn't deny the people’s failings. He doesn't make excuses. Instead, he appeals to God's very nature. He says, "Master of the universe, You are slow to anger." It’s like he’s reminding God of God's own attributes. But it gets even more interesting.

Moses uses this powerful analogy of a master and a slave. He explains that if a slave is good and obedient, people praise the slave. But, Moses argues, the real credit to the master comes when the slave is wayward, yet the master still shows favor. In other words, A reader can be merciful to those who deserve it. True greatness lies in showing mercy even when it's not "deserved".

He continues, "So, too, You, do not look upon their stubbornness, as it is stated: “Do not turn to the stubbornness of this people” (Deuteronomy 9:27)." Moses is actually quoting scripture back to God, reminding Him of His own words! He's pleading for God to look past the people's flaws, to see beyond their kishyon, their stubbornness.

And what’s God's response? According to Bamidbar Rabbah, God says to Moses, "For your sake, I will pardon them," as it is stated: “I have pardoned in accordance with your word” (Numbers 14:20). Moses' intervention, his plea for mercy, actually changes the divine decree. This isn't just about saving a nation; it's about the power of intercession, the impact of arguing for compassion, even when facing seemingly insurmountable odds.

What does this tell us? Maybe it’s that even when we mess up, even when we feel completely lost and unworthy, there's always a chance for forgiveness. Maybe it’s that even God, in a sense, can be moved by a heartfelt plea for mercy. And maybe, just maybe, it’s a reminder that the greatest credit goes not to those who are always perfect, but to the One who shows mercy even when we are most undeserving.

Full source
Legends of the Jews 4:108Legends of the Jews

As retold by Ginzberg, Moses was the one who devised the plan to rid the city of the snakes. It all hinged on the clever use of. storks. Yes, you heard that right.

Moses instructed everyone to raise young storks. Everyone in the community, nurturing these awkward, gangly birds. It's a beautiful image, isn't it? But Once the storks reached adulthood, Moses ordered them to be starved for three days. Harsh, I know.

Then came the big day. The king, following Moses' instructions to the letter, commanded his people to don their armor, gird their swords, mount their horses, and each take their stork. Can you picture the scene? A whole army, ready for battle, each soldier with a hungry stork perched on his hand.

They marched towards the city afflicted by the serpents. And then, the king gave the signal: "Let each man send forth his young stork, to descend upon the serpents."

And they did.

The storks, driven by hunger, swooped down upon the serpents. They devoured them, every single one. Imagine the relief, the sheer joy as the people watched the birds obliterate the source of their terror. With the serpents gone, the army turned its attention to the city itself. They fought, they subdued it, and, incredibly, they killed all its inhabitants. But here's the real kicker: not a single person from the besieging army died!

It’s an amazing story, isn’t it? A evidence of the power of innovative thinking, and perhaps a little bit of divine intervention. It leaves you wondering, what “serpents” are we facing today, and what unexpected “storks” might we use to overcome them? Sometimes, the solution is closer than we think, just waiting for the right moment to take flight.

Full source
The Midrash of Philo 16:2The Midrash of Philo

Philo of Alexandria, a Jewish philosopher who lived in Egypt during the Roman era, did just that. He delved deep into the Torah, seeking hidden wisdom and allegorical interpretations. And in one particular passage, known as The Midrash of Philo 16, he offers a rather...anatomical interpretation.

Philo focuses on a seemingly simple phrase: "in the side." He interprets this as referring to a human building, a structure – our own body. And what's this "door in the side?" Well, according to Philo, it's where "all the excrements of dung are cast out." Yes,

Why is this important? Why did the Creator put that door where it is?

Philo, echoing thoughts attributed to Socrates (who, he suggests, may have even learned them from Moses himself!), believes it's all about decency. Imagine, he muses, if we had to constantly witness the full, unadulterated appearance of our bodily waste. Disgusting. So, the Creator, in His infinite wisdom, placed the exit points "back out of the reach of the sense." He surrounded them with the "back and posteriors," those "hills" that shield us from the less pleasant aspects of our biology. And the buttocks? Philo notes they are "made soft for other objects." Ahem.

It's a fascinating idea, isn't it? That even the placement of our bodily functions reflects a divine concern for our sensibilities. It’s not just about biology; it’s about aesthetics, about shielding us from things that might diminish our experience of the world.

Of course, we might chuckle at Philo's rather...direct language. But beneath the anatomical details lies a deeper message: that everything, even the seemingly unglamorous aspects of our existence, has a purpose and a design. Everything is part of a larger, more meaningful whole. Maybe, just maybe, the next time you're pondering the mysteries of the universe, take a moment to appreciate the wisdom hidden in the most unexpected places – even "in the side."

Full source