What if one moment of giving in changed the course of history?
A powerful lesson from Moshe Rabbeinu and the rock reveals the devastating cost of surrendering to the noise—and why perseverance may be the key to our personal and ultimate redemption.
Listen on: 
Dedicated by Dovid and Faige Friedman (Wesley Hills, NY) in honor of the marriage of their children Elimelech and Bracha Bina Friedman this past week and
L’illui nishmas our fathers on their yahrtzeits, Avrohom Yaakov ben Asher Klein z”l - 14 Tamuz 5782 and Chaim Ahron ben Yaakov Ber Friedman z”l - 17 Tamuz 5773
Parshas Chukas-Balak 5786
As people striving to grow, overcome our nisyonos, and recognize that we are part of something far greater than ourselves, we are constantly searching for ways to maximize the opportunities Hashem places before us. Especially during a time of so much chaos, hester panim, and uncertainty, both in our personal lives and for Klal Yisrael, we naturally ask ourselves: What can I do? How can I make a difference?
Last week we discussed that every one of us is a leader. I’d like to build on that idea.
We’re not just leaders. Our impact is limitless. No act is ever small. Sitting quietly at your dining room table with a sefer or siddur, making one phone call to encourage someone, saying one extra kapitel Tehillim, giving a few dollars to tzedakah, holding back a hurtful comment, putting down your head in the face of immodesty, may seem insignificant. Yet every one of those moments creates ripple effects that extend far beyond what we can see, reaching well beyond the confines of this world.
With that in mind, I’d like to share an idea that I believe is especially timely.
TALK TO THE ROCK
In this week’s parshah, Moshe Rabbeinu was supposed to talk to the rock to provide water for the thirsty nation.
“You and your brother Aharon, take the rod and gather the community, and before their eyes, command the rock to yield its water. In this way, you shall provide water for them from the rock and give drink to the assembly and to their animals… Then Moshe raised his hand and struck the rock twice, and abundant water flowed forth. The assembly and their animals drank.”
The Chasam Sofer observes two changes in the pesukim. Initially, the pasuk mentions “water,” while later it states, “abundant water.”
Furthermore, in the first pasuk, there is a distinction made between man and beast, as it says, “the assembly — and to their animals.” In contrast, the second pasuk combines them together, stating, “the assembly and their animals.”
TWO FORCES WITHIN A PERSON
Elaborating on the words of the Chasam Sofer, Rav Aharon explains as follows:
Man is composed of two spirits, or “nefashos.” The first is the “nefesh haruchni,” which refers to the spiritual soul. This aspect represents the Divine essence within man, often referred to as the “tzelem Elokim,” or the G-dly image. On the other hand, there is the “nefesh habahami,” which pertains to the animalistic element.
The nefesh haruchni craves and finds satisfaction in ruchniyus, Torah, avodah, and kedushah. In contrast, the nefesh habahami craves gashmiyus, such as food, hedonism, and distractions from profound truths. These are two opposing forces, and our avodah is to constantly nourish the nefesh haruchni and attend to its needs. As for the nefesh habahami, we recognize the necessity of fulfilling bodily functions and needs, but ideally, we strive not to exceed those requirements.
The Zohar teaches the well-known phrase: “אין אדם מת וחצי תאותו בידו — a person does not die with half of his desires in hand.” This refers to the baal taavah, one driven by desires, who loses focus during his earthly existence. Despite his efforts to acquire and possess everything he can, he ultimately departs empty-handed, having achieved no real acquisition.
We are here for a purpose, on a mission. We possess the power to discern that what appears real and substantial in this world is, in fact, illusory and false. Those individuals who display resilience and strength, who persevere until the end, will arrive in the next world with genuine acquisitions, experiencing authentic pride, joy, and eternal bliss — נהנה מזיו השכינה, basking in the radiance of the Divine Presence.
Before the sin of striking the rock, the Jewish people were soaring, reaching a high level of kedushah. At that level, gashmiyus, worldly matters, held no relevance. They neither wanted nor needed more than the bare minimum for survival. They drank and ate solely for sustenance, just enough to meet their needs. The Chasam Sofer refers to it as “מזון רוחני,” spiritual sustenance.
Although food and drink are physical entities, fulfilling a physical need, they were considered spiritual because their purpose was solely to aid in their ruchniyus and connection with Hashem.
Therefore, before the sin of striking the rock, when Klal Yisrael reached the peak of kedushah, even minimal water sufficed. They were entirely separate and distinct from animals, and even their nefesh habahami — animalistic inclinations — were elevated on a spiritual level.
However, after the sin of striking the rock, when the word of Hashem was forsaken and trust was lost, Moshe Rabbeinu’s entry into the Holy Land was denied, and the entire assembly experienced a spiritual decline. They descended from their previous spiritual level. Now, a little water was not enough. They needed “מים רבים,” abundant water, to quench their thirst. They needed to drink for the experience of drinking, not just for survival. They were now joined with the animals because, after their fall and descent in kedushah, they needed to satisfy their nefesh habahami, similar to an animal’s needs.
WHEN THE ROCK DOES NOT RESPOND
Perhaps we can build this even deeper:
Rashi explains that the rock Hashem intended Moshe to speak to had disappeared among the other rocks. Moshe first spoke to a different rock, but nothing happened. The people immediately began shouting that he had the wrong rock and challenged him to bring water from another one. Faced with the confusion and pressure, Moshe ultimately struck the rock.
This raises a fundamental question.
Why was Moshe punished? From Moshe’s perspective, perhaps striking the rock was the correct hishtadlus. He had already tried speaking. It didn’t work. The entire nation was screaming that he had the wrong rock. Perhaps he concluded that he had misunderstood Hashem’s instruction, or that speaking applied only to the original rock, and now, under these circumstances, striking the rock was what Hashem wanted.
If so, why was Moshe held accountable? Wasn’t he simply doing what he sincerely believed was the proper hishtadlus?
I heard from Rav Asher Weiss of Monsey, b’sheim Rav Yerucham, that the failing was not striking the rock. The failing was giving up. Hashem had said, “Speak.” Moshe spoke once. When it didn’t work, he changed course.
The lesson is profound. Hashem does not ask us to guarantee results. He asks us not to abandon His command simply because we don’t yet see success. Our responsibility is perseverance.
The Zohar, on Bilam’s prophecy in next week’s parshah, “עד כי יבא שילה,” writes something astounding.The word שילה has the gematria of משה. While the simple meaning of the verse refers to the Jewish people entering Eretz Yisrael, the Zohar teaches that had Moshe himself entered Eretz Yisrael, the redemption would have taken on an entirely different dimension. The ultimate Geulah could have unfolded then, sparing Klal Yisrael centuries of exile, suffering, and repeated destruction.
If so, perhaps the connection is striking.
The moment Moshe stopped speaking and changed course was not merely about producing water. It represented, on Moshe’s exalted level, a moment of relinquishing the mission before it had run its course. The very leader who could have ushered in the final redemption was expected never to give up, even when the results were not yet visible.
Accordingly, perhaps we can add another dimension to the Chasam Sofer’s explanation of why, before the cheit, a small amount of water sufficed to quench their thirst, whereas afterward Klal Yisrael required מים רבים.
The moment Moshe stopped speaking and changed course, the lesson being taught to Klal Yisrael changed as well. Until then, they were learning that a Jew follows the word of Hashem whether or not he immediately sees results. The moment visible success became a factor, even on Moshe’s exalted level, something shifted in the spiritual makeup of the nation.
A people who live with unwavering emunah are not driven by immediate gratification. They are sustained by their mission. But once the focus subtly shifts toward tangible results, the pull of the nefesh habahami becomes stronger.
It was no longer only the rock that changed. Klal Yisrael changed. Their relationship with gashmiyus changed. Even their physical needs changed. A little water no longer sufficed. They now required מים רבים. They no longer drank merely to sustain themselves, but for the experience of drinking itself.
KEEP SPEAKING TO THE ROCK
Everything we do for Hashem has immeasurable value, even when we don’t see immediate results. The Eibeshter cherishes every sincere effort. That is the message of Lechteich. As important as the destination is, Hashem treasures the journey no less. The sweat, the resistance, the setbacks, the pushback, the uncertainty, and the decision to keep moving forward when nothing seems to be happening are not detours from greatness — they are the very process through which greatness is achieved.
When it feels like nothing is happening, when the rocks aren’t responding, that doesn’t mean it’s time to stop. It doesn’t mean to give up. It means to look up. It means remembering that Hashem has an exact time and place for everything. Our responsibility is not to produce the outcome; our responsibility is to remain faithful to His mission.
As long as we are serving Him, performing His mitzvos, walking in His ways, and striving to fulfill His will, שויתי ה׳ לנגדי תמיד, there are no small accomplishments. Not every mitzvah bears immediate fruit. Not every tefillah is answered when we expect. Not every act of growth is visible to the eye.
There may be times when it feels as though we are moving backward, when others question us, or even laugh at us while we’re speaking to the deaf rocks in our lives.
But if Hashem told us to speak, then there is nothing more logical, more meaningful, or more successful that we could possibly be doing.
Keep walking. Keep speaking to the rock. The results belong to Hashem. •
