That even the greatest among us can have their moments of… well, let’s call it humility.

Today, we’re diving into a fascinating passage from Bamidbar Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic teachings on the Book of Numbers. It’s a section that explores how even Moses, the ultimate lawgiver, experienced moments where he needed guidance. And how those moments reveal profound truths about humility, Torah study, and the unexpected wisdom we can find in… daughters?

The passage opens with a seemingly simple statement: “Moses brought their case” (Numbers 27:5). But the rabbis in Bamidbar Rabbah see something deeper. Some suggest that God deliberately concealed the answer from Moses. Why? Because, as the text says, there are righteous individuals who become arrogant regarding performing a mitzvah, a commandment. And God, in turn, weakens their abilities. It’s a potent reminder that even in our most devout acts, humility is key. It’s not about boasting or feeling superior, but about recognizing that we are vessels for something much larger than ourselves.

The text then offers a powerful example: David. David, the sweet singer of Israel, declared that God's statutes were like songs to him – easy and familiar. But, the text tells us, God warned him that he would ultimately err in a matter even children understood. And he did! When bringing up the Ark, David placed it on a wagon, violating the instruction that it be carried on the shoulders of the Levites. The Ark, according to the text, even suspended itself in the air, and Uzzah, in trying to steady it, was struck down. “God smote him there for the error” (II Samuel 6:7), because, as Rashi and Rabbeinu Yona explain, a mistake in studying Torah is considered intentional since it often indicates insufficient effort.

Ouch. A harsh lesson, perhaps, but a vital one: familiarity shouldn’t breed carelessness. We must always approach Torah study with diligence and respect.

Now, back to Moses. The story shifts to the daughters of Tzelofchad. These women come to Moses with a seemingly complex legal question: their father died without sons, so how will they inherit his land? Moses, stumped, brings their case before God.

But here's where it gets really interesting. The text suggests that Moses's difficulty stemmed from his earlier statement: “The matter that is too difficult for you, you shall bring to me, and I will hear it” (Deuteronomy 1:17). The rabbis interpret this as a sign of hubris, weakening his ability to solve the daughters' case.

It’s like the parable of the moneychanger who only wants to deal with simple currency, leaving the precious gems for his master. When a valuable necklace appears, he can’t handle it himself. Moses, in a way, had set himself up as the only one capable of handling the "difficult" cases.

And what’s God’s response? “Tzelofḥad’s daughters speak correctly” (Numbers 27:7). In other words, the women understood the law better than Moses did in that moment. Bamidbar Rabbah even suggests that Moses knew the law, but the leaders deferred to others until the case ended up back in Moses's lap. Moses, in a moment of pride, didn't want to take away from their greatness, so he, too, deferred to God. The Holy One, Blessed be He, acknowledges the accuracy of their claim.

Imagine that: the great Moses, taught a lesson by the daughters of Tzelofchad! It’s a powerful reminder that wisdom can come from anywhere, and that we should always be open to learning, regardless of our position or status.

The passage goes on to explain the nuances of the inheritance laws, emphasizing that the daughters received multiple portions – a testament to the justice and fairness of God's law. The doubled phrase "naton titen" (you shall give) in Hebrew emphasizes the multiple portions they received.

So, what can we take away from this? Perhaps it’s a reminder that humility isn’t about diminishing ourselves, but about recognizing the vastness of knowledge and the importance of remaining a lifelong learner. Perhaps it’s a call to listen to voices we might otherwise overlook, recognizing that wisdom can be found in the most unexpected places. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s a gentle nudge to check our own egos and ensure that our pursuit of knowledge is driven by a genuine desire to learn and grow, rather than a need to feel superior. Food for thought.