Calibrated Humility
No More Hot Takes
Who knew MOUs could generate so much commentary? Iran is celebrating immediate relief. POTUS is lauding himself for staving off global catastrophe and Republican Senators are left wondering what kind of dealmaker the President actually is.
Hot takes are being doled out like hot cakes, lavishing or admonishing depending on the takesmith’s political persuasion. And i’m left wondering, how does everyone know so much about a deal that for all intents and purposes punts the thorniest of issues for another 60 days?
This whole thing has left me wondering about leadership, of politicians, journalists, and geopolitical experts. To be a leader means to operate with some amount of integrity. There’s certainly space to be nimble and adapt but when words change with the winds, who can we trust? And importantly, what do we really get when everyone is just trying to one-up each other?
Fittingly, an answer comes from this week’s portion, Korach. Widely seen as a rabble rouser by the commentaries, Korach attempts to lead an uprising against Moses and Aaron. While his chief complaint is about their amassing of too much power, the majority of biblical commentators cast him as a demagogue attempting to monopolize his own power, but I think there’s something deeper going on.
When the wrong people reach for something and when the right people hesitate too much, a vacuum is left. Who fills that void is a worthy question. Our teacher, the Sfat Emet has a striking answer, in part because it arrives not from the Korach narrative itself but from what follows. In chapter 18 of the book of Numbers, the Torah details a slew of directives given to Aaron and the Levites. One of them says the following (18:19):
כֹּ֣ל ׀ תְּרוּמֹ֣ת הַקֳּדָשִׁ֗ים אֲשֶׁ֨ר יָרִ֥ימוּ בְנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵל֮ לַֽיהֹוָה֒ נָתַ֣תִּֽי לְךָ֗ וּלְבָנֶ֧יךָ וְלִבְנֹתֶ֛יךָ אִתְּךָ֖ לְחׇק־עוֹלָ֑ם בְּרִית֩ מֶ֨לַח עוֹלָ֥ם הִוא֙ לִפְנֵ֣י יְהֹוָ֔ה לְךָ֖ וּֽלְזַרְעֲךָ֥ אִתָּֽךְ׃
All the sacred gifts that the Israelites set aside for God I give to you, to your sons, and to the daughters that are with you, as a due for all time. It shall be an everlasting covenant of salt before God for you and for your offspring as well.
That highlighted bit begs for interpretation. What, exactly, is a covenant of salt and how is it different than a standard covenant. This is where the Sfat Emet begins his teaching first quoting from the Talmud:
one who passes before the ark [to lead prayer] must show reluctance, and if he did not show reluctance, he is like a pot lacking salt. But if he showed too much reluctance, he is like a pot ruined by its salt.
Salt is an incredibly powerful element. When lacking, a whole dish will feel off. Too much salt leaves a dish inedible. The Talmud stretches the metaphor to describe a prayer leader. If this leader is too eager to, he comes across as unfit to lead while if he is too deferential, his status has been undermined.
The Sfat Emet then brings back the moment when Aaron is first selected to be the leader of the Priests and the Torah details his hesitation to do so. Despite his nerves, Moses convinces him he’s the right person for the job and he accepts. From his initial calling, we recognize his ability to strike a balance between overwhelming humility and hubris. The Sfat Emet continues by linking to the beginning of our portion.
But Korach, who sought the priesthood on his own initiative, and had no part in the quality of reluctance, it is impossible for such a person to be a serving priest, as it is written: “Do not go up by steps to my altar” — as the Midrash there explains, that one must not stride with large steps. Through this shame and self-abasement, the priesthood is sustained for Aaron for all generations.
Unlike Aaron, Korach had no reluctance to lead. He eagerly sought it out in a manner that disqualified him and ultimately led to his demise. Instead of bounding after this opportunity, Korach should have shown some amount of equanimity.
And Moses our Teacher, peace be upon him — it is stated that he showed too much reluctance at the Burning Bush, and therefore the priesthood was taken from him, … For Moses our Teacher, the man of God, was like the supernal angels, as it says: “exceedingly humble, more than any person upon the face of the earth.” But the priest in the Temple must possess an intermediate quality: even though he knows within himself that he is not worthy, from the side of the commandment and the mission he must do his part.
But the other end of the spectrum is also problematic. Strikingly, Moses is the one admonished here. Being too humble means one has gone too far. Instead Aaron shows us what the model is and it’s named here as bechina memutza'at, the level of middling. It stands out because there's something countercultural about celebrating the middle, the calibrated, and the neither-too-much-nor-too-little, in a moment that rewards extremity. The middle doesn’t get its flowers because it’s inherently understated but perhaps we should give it the honor it deserves.
The Sfat Emet goes on to show how Aaron models this with action earlier on in the Korach narrative:
And one can explain what is written here: “Take the fire-pan... and go quickly” — and similarly it says “and he ran.” Yet elsewhere it is written “do not go up by steps,” only to walk heel alongside toe. This can be explained according to the Mishnah there: one who leads the prayer and makes an error — another should take his place, and he should not show reluctance at that moment.
Despite his earlier reluctance, Aaron doesn’t hesitate in this moment. He knows that he needed to act. From his humility, he sprung into action because certain moments call for it. Aaron's model isn't just "humble leader," which is common enough as a leadership trope. It's something more paradoxical and more useful: he felt unworthy and acted anyway, immediately, without using his unworthiness as an excuse for inaction.
Most leadership cultures collapse into one of the two failure modes the Sfat Emet names; either the swagger of Korach (no self-doubt, pure appetite for the role) or the paralysis of Moses at the bush (so much self-awareness it becomes its own obstacle) end up as roadblocks. Aaron threads between them.
This paradigm feels especially urgent right now. Public life is so dominated by the Korach type, the ones who visibly want the position, those that have no hesitation. And the natural reaction to that, especially among thoughtful people, is to over-correct into a kind of principled withdrawal. “I’m not going to be that.” But the Sfat Emet is saying that’s also a failure so much so that Moses loses the priesthood over it.
Aaron doesn’t deliberate. The situation is broken, people have failed, and something needs to be repaired right now, so he runs. His humility was real but it didn’t make him slow.
I’m often a proponent of going heavy toward humility but at some point it becomes a form of self-indulgence. Living in a world of maximalists as we do, that type of humility doesn’t end up serving leaders or their communities. We need people who embody that bechina memutza'at, the level of middling. Aaron is the practical answer to that puzzle. He's the person who holds genuine self-doubt and acts decisively when the moment demands it.
As we navigate this topsy turvy, ever changing world, we should seek out leaders who strike this balance. True sacred service requires calibrated humility, not so little that you grasp for honor, not so much that you paralyze yourself. The eternal covenant of salt (brit melach olam) preserves the priesthood precisely because Aaron found that balance. Salt in the right measure preserves; too little or too much ruins.
Shabbat Shalom and Happy Weekend