Parshas Tetzaveh stands out as the sole parsha in the Torah, following the birth of Moshe Rabbeinu, where his name is absent. The Zohar clarifies this is not by chance. Following the incident where Bnei Yisroel served the golden calf, Moshe implored Hashem to forgive them. In his plea, Moshe was so emphatic that he declared to Hashem, “If You will not forgive Bnei Yisroel, then erase me from Your book.” Despite Hashem granting forgiveness to Bnei Yisroel, the intensity of Moshe’s words brought about a self-imposed curse, leading to his name being “erased” from this particular parsha.
Zera Shimshon asks why Moshe’s name is specifically missing from this parsha and not from another parsha? What connects Moshe’s request for his name to be erased from the Torah specifically to parshas Tetzaveh?
In Gemara Zevachim (102a), it’s noted that when Hashem appeared to Moshe at the burning bush (the sneh) to instruct him to lead Bnei Yisroel out of Mitzrayim, Moshe hesitated to accept this mission, for which he was penalized. Initially destined to become the Kohen Gadol, Moshe’s hesitation led Hashem to bestow this honor upon Aharon instead.
This raises a question: How could Moshe—referred to as “eved Hashem”—the servant of Hashem—not heed Hashem’s command? There has to be a good reason behind Moshe’s reluctance to immediately undertake the redemption of Bnei Yisroel?
To answer this question, Zera Shimshon introduces two ideas.
In the opening of Mesilas Yesharim, the Ramchal cites Chazal, that “man’s purpose is to enjoy in Hashem and to bask in the glow of the Shechina (divine presence), as this represents the ultimate joy and the most profound pleasure attainable.” However, this level of bliss is only accessible once we achieve complete purity.
The midrash elaborates that during the bris bein habesorim, Hashem presented Avraham Avinu with a choice regarding the means through which his descendants, Bnei Yisroel, would be purified if they sinned, so as to become worthy of this sublime and wonderful state: either through Gehinnom or through exile and suffering under the dominion of other nations. Avraham opted for the latter—indicating that until we refine and perfect ourselves, the ordeal of oppression is inevitable.
Zera Shimshon references a midrash for the second concept, explaining that the initial redemptions of our history were facilitated by mortal beings, whose lifespans are finite. Consequently, these redemptions were temporary. In contrast, the ultimate redemption will be orchestrated directly by Hashem, who is eternal, guaranteeing that this redemption will be everlasting.
Based on this, Zera Shimshon explains that Moshe’s hesitance at the burning bush wasn’t due to reluctance or discomfort about approaching Bnei Yisroel with Hashem’s mission. This idea is implausible because Moshe was the humblest and most devoted servant of Hashem to have ever lived! Furthermore, we find that he did approach Pharaoh to convey Hashem’s message.
Instead, Moshe’s reluctance stemmed from a desire for the redemption of Bnei Yisroel to be the ultimate and everlasting one, conducted by Hashem—not by a mortal like himself. His decision was driven by his profound love and concern for Bnei Yisroel, believing that their trials and tribulations in Mitzrayim were sufficient for their purification and attainment of a state worthy of experiencing Hashem’s glory. Furthermore, Moshe was aware of Chazal’s teachings that at the time of the Torah’s giving, Bnei Yisroel overcame the yetzer hara, indicating their purity. Thus, Moshe argued that the redemption should be enacted by Hashem—not him—unaware of the future incident with the golden calf.
Hashem didn’t accept Moshe’s argument because Hashem knew that Bnei Yisroel were not yet fully cleansed and would sin at the golden calf and the yetzer hara that ceased to bother Bnei Yisroel at the time that Hashem gave the Torah would come back and Bnei Yisroel will need to go back into galus to finish the purification process. Therefore, Hashem wanted a mortal man—like Moshe—to take Bnei Yisroel out of Mitzrayim, in order for the redemption not to be an absolute redemption which would result that Bnei Yisroel would remain tainted.
Despite Moshe’s well-meaning and honorable intentions, Hashem holds the righteous who are close to Him to an exceedingly high standard, scrutinizing their actions down to the finest detail. Consequently, Moshe forfeited his privilege of becoming the Kohen Gadol. This outcome was not arbitrary but rather a precise instance of measure for measure (middah keneged middah): just as Moshe hesitated to serve as Hashem’s messenger to Bnei Yisroel, he similarly lost the opportunity to serve as the Kohen Gadol, a role that involves acting as Hashem’s emissary (shluchei d’rachmana) in offering korbanos.
Returning to the initial question: Why is Moshe’s name not mentioned in this parsha and not some other parsha?
The golden calf incident fundamentally led to two outcomes: First, it made Moshe realize his error in not promptly agreeing to become Hashem’s messenger for redemption, thereby justifying Aharon’s selection. Second, it was during this period that Moshe proposed to Hashem to remove his name from Hashem’s book. Given that both consequences stem from the same event—the golden calf—it is appropriate that these two developments are presented together in one parsha.
According to this, we can answer another question. It is written in the Gemara that “a curse that is made by a talmid chacham on condition is effective, even if that condition is fulfilled.” The Rishonim explain that this is true only if there is a smattering of an aveira involved. If there is no aveira at all, the curse will not take effect if the one who cursed fulfills the condition.
Regarding Moshe’s prayer to be erased from the Torah, it would seem that Moshe did not transgress any aveira when he davened for the forgiveness of Bnei Yisroel. This being so, how can we understand why the curse took effect? According to the above, the explanation is simple; although at the time that Moshe davened, he did not do an aveira, however at that time, it was retroactively made clear that Moshe did sin when Hashem spoke to him at the burning bush. It was this sin that enabled Moshe’s curse to take hold.
In the dialogue between Moshe and Hashem at the burning bush, we find a way to reconcile the many pesukim in Tanach that detail Hashem’s profound love for the descendants of Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, and Jewish history marked by tremendous trials and suffering.
According to the above words of Zera Shimshon, we can explain that this paradox can be likened to the relationship between a sculptor and his stone. Just as a sculptor—with seeming harshness and cruelty—strikes the stone repeatedly, each chisel mark and forceful blow is not an act of destruction but one of creation and transformation. The sculptor—though appearing unmerciful in his relentless chipping away at the rock—is guided by a vision of beauty and perfection. He removes each piece of the stone not to diminish it, but to reveal the masterpiece hidden within. Similarly, Hashem’s methods in guiding and shaping the Jewish people—though, sometimes, as severe as the sculptor’s blows—are acts of love aimed at refining us, removing our flaws and imperfections. This process—albeit painful—is designed to purify us, preparing us to enjoy Hashem and to bask in the glow of the Shechina.
(Adapted from Zera Shimshon, parshas Tetzaveh, end of derush 3)
