This article was first published in Nitzachon, the Adas Torah journal.
Hashem spoke to Moshe saying, “Take the staff and gather the congregation – you and Aaron your brother – and speak to the rock in front of their eyes. It will give its waters. You will bring out water for them from the rock and you will give the congregation and their animals to drink.”Moshe took the staff from before Hashem as He had commanded him. Moshe and Aaron then gathered the congregation in front of the rock and said to them, “Listen now, rebellious ones! Will we bring out water for you from this rock?!”[1] Moshe raised his hand and hit the rock twice with his staff. Abundant water came out and the congregation and their animals drank.Hashem said to Moshe and to Aaron, “Since you did not trust Me to sanctify Me before the eyes of the Jewish People, you will therefore not bring this congregation into the land which I have given them.”
Bamidbar 20:7-12
The Sin at the Rock is an enigma. What did they do wrong? And why was the punishment so harsh? The more carefully we read the pesukim, the less clear the sin becomes. We typically quote Rashi, that Moshe erred by hitting the rock instead of speaking to it, but by no means is this the consensus among the commentaries.[2] In fact, there is no consensus. The Ohr HaChaim counts no less than ten different opinions among the rishonim.
In his lengthy treatment of the episode, the Ramban rejects the offerings of his predecessors and ultimately insists that the sin requires a Kabbalistic explanation. However, there is a straightforward reading of the text the Ramban does recommend, that of the great Rabbeinu Chananel (henceforth, “the Rach”):
The most reasonable of the interpretations that have been offered on this issue, one which satisfies the questioner, are the words of the Rach. He writes that the sin was saying “Will we bring out water for you from this rock.” It would have been more appropriate for them to say “Will Hashem bring out water for you,” as they said [on a different occasion], “when Hashem gives you meat in the evening to eat…” (Shemos 16:8). So it was with all the miracles, [Moshe and Aaron always] made it known that Hashem was doing wondrous things for the people. [Now that they failed to do so,] the nation might think that Moshe and Aaron used their own wisdom to bring out water from this rock. This is the meaning of [Hashem’s statement years later], “You failed to sanctify Me” (Devarim 32:51)…
[According to the Rach,] it is understandable that [Hashem] used the expression ma’altem bi (Devarim 32:51) in reference to this [sin], for utilizing the sacred for personal benefit is called me’ilah… (Ramban to Bamidbar 20:8)
In short, the sin was the usage of the word “we.” This allowed for the misconception that Moshe and Aaron were using their own magical powers to extract water from a rock. This was a me’ilah of sorts, a “theft” of the sacred, for they usurped Hashem’s miracle for their own benefit. Of course, this was not Moshe’s or Aaron’s intent, but nonetheless, the Rach feels that this was the impression given by their choice of words.
Compare the Rach’s interpretation with that of the Ibn Ezra, as explained by the Ramban:
“Will we bring out water from this rock for you?” They said to them, “Listen… is there any way in the world we could get water out of this rock?! Recognize that it is from Hashem. He is the one who took you out of Egypt and brought you to this place. He will provide for you here.”
According to the Ibn Ezra, Moshe is proclaiming his inability to make miracles on his own. In truth, the Rach may well agree with the Ibn Ezra; the Rach’s issue is not with Moshe’s actual intent, but with the ambiguity of his words. Nonetheless, even that is challenged by the Ohr HaChaim:
Was it not known that Moshe was the agent of Hashem? Everything he did was done with Hashem’s power! … Moreover, in Parshas Bo we find the following, “Moshe called all the Jews and said to them, ‘Take or buy for yourselves a sheep…’” (Shemos 12:21). He did not say it in Hashem’s name, for certainly it was a known fact that he was the agent of Hashem.
In other words, how could anyone in their right mind think Moshe was saying he will perform a miracle on his own, without Hashem?[3] Underscoring the Ohr HaChaim’s point, a more direct challenge to the Rach can be found in the Shema:
And it will be, if you listen to My mitzvos which I am commanding you today, to love Hashem your God and to serve Him with all your heart and all your soul, then I will give the rain of your land in its time, the hard rain and the soft rain, and you will gather your grain, your wine, and your oil…
Devarim 11:13-14
Here we have Moshe committing the very same sin! Instead of saying that Hashem will provide rain and water, Moshe says “I will give the rain!” Since we do not find that Moshe was punished for this “infraction,” we must infer that there was no problem here at all; it was understood by everyone that Moshe was just quoting Hashem. Why then does the Rach consider it a sin at the rock?
A Higher Reality
In order to appreciate the wisdom of the Rach, we must first study a polar opposite approach. According to Rabbi Chaim Volozhiner, Moshe’s use of the first-person in the Shema was not a sin of me’ilah, but the very highest expression of humility before God.
[Moshe] continually grew in this [awareness of divine omnipresence][4] until he successfully achieved it before he died to the highest degree possible for a living human being. As we find in Devarim, in the parsha of v’haya im shomoah, where [Moshe] initially says, “…to love Hashem your God” but then immediately afterwards, in the very next verse, he speaks in the first-person, “and I will give the rain of your land.” He is the giver and the actor, for, from his perspective, he has utterly ceased to exist and it is only the Shechina which speaks. This is why he said, “I will give.” As Chazal wrote in the Zohar, “The Shechina speaks from the throat of Moshe,” and as the verse states (Shemos 13:8), “Mouth to mouth I speak in him.” It does not say “to him,” but “in him.” Literally, in him. (Nefesh HaChaim 3:14)
Moshe uses the first-person because he has erased his identity and transformed into an instrument through which Hashem speaks to the nation. Total self-nullification was the defining feature of Moshe’s personality.[5] It distinguished him from the forefathers and made him a superconductor of the divine will for both miracles and prophecy. Rabbi Chaim Volozhiner explains:
The level of Moshe Rabbeinu was even higher [than that of the Avos], as the Torah testifies, “there never arose a prophet like Moshe” (Devarim 34:1). Hashem Himself described the nature of the distinction between them: “I am Hashem. I appeared to Avrahom, to Yitzchok and to Yaakov as El Shaddai, but I did not make known to them My Name of Y-H-V-H.” (Shemos 6:2-3).
[The avos] did not reach a level of prophecy where the natural forces completely ceased to exist. As the Torah states, “I appeared to Avrahom, to Yitzchok and to Yaakov as El Shaddai.” This is akin to the name Elohim, which means to say, “I am the master of all forces and at every moment My Will directs the entire system of forces as I set them up from the time of creation.” This is the meaning of El Shaddai. “However, in their prophecy I did not make known to them the dimension of My Name Y-H-V-H.”
On the other hand, the prophecy of Moshe Rabbeinu was on the level of the name of Hashem’s essence[6] and unity, Y-H-V-H, may He be blessed, and for this reason no force could block the light of his prophetic vision. This is also the reason why in all the miracles performed by Moshe everyone witnessed the utter nullification of all forces and [recognized] the literal truth of ein od milevado, nothing exists other than Hashem…
This is also the idea behind the words of Chazal at the end of Perek Kisui HaDam (Chullin 89a). “What it says about Moshe and Aaron is greater than what it says about Avrahom. By Avrahom it says, “I am dust and ashes” (Bereishis 18:17), but by Moshe and Aaron it says, “What are we?” (Shemos 16:5).” At the very least, “dust and ashes” implies the existence of dust, as opposed to Moshe Rabbeinu who said, “What are we?” – implying that they do not exist in the world at all. (Nefesh HaChaim 3:13)
In other words, Avrahom, Yitzchok and Yaakov experienced Hashem as Master of the Universe, but Moshe experienced Hashem as if there was no universe.
This is why the miracles of the Avos differed from the miracles of Moshe. When Hashem made a miracle for the Avos, it remained within the bounds of the natural order. Avrahom defeated multiple armies, but he had to go out to battle. Sarah had a baby at ninety, but she had to conceive and give birth. Yitzchok harvested one hundred times more than the norm, but he had to plant. Yaakov’s monochrome sheep gave birth to multicolored sheep, but they had to mate. The point is that the miracles of the Avos did not technically violate the laws of nature. In contrast, the miracles of Moshe – from the plagues to the sea to the manna – were distinctive in their total disregard for physics. This is not coincidental. Moshe achieved awareness of a higher truth: Y-K-V-H echad. Hashem is the sole reality, ein od milevado. From that perspective, natural law is not law, it is just the current divine will. That is why Moshe was able to transcend nature and serve as a conduit for acts of God unfettered by the laws of physics.
This also explains why Moshe’s prophecy was unparalleled. When Aaron and Miriam mistakenly compare the quality of their prophecy to Moshe’s, the Torah states, “The man Moshe was exceedingly more humble than any other person on the face of the earth” (Bamidbar 12:3). In his work on Pirkei Avos, Rabbi Chaim Volozhiner explains that Moshe’s extraordinary prophetic vision was a function of his extraordinary humility (Ruach Chaim 1:1). Moshe viewed his physical self as naught before the reality of Hashem.[7] With self-interest and ego nullified, Moshe was able to receive Hashem’s transmissions b’aspaklaria hameira, with crystal clarity, free of human static.[8]
Despite the challenge it presents to our senses, the concept of ein od milvado is not religious fundamentalism. It is the first fundamental principle of Judaism.
The first fundamental principle is the existence of the Creator, may He be praised. That is, a perfect being exists which is the original cause of all else… If we were to imagine that this being would cease to be, then all reality would vanish and nothing would remain in existence. But if we were to imagine that all that exists would cease to be, His exalted existence would not vanish, nor be detracted from, for He requires nothing outside of Himself. (Rambam, Thirteen Principles of Faith)
The Rambam spells out the implications of this principle at the beginning of Mishneh Torah (Yesodei HaTorah 1:4).
The nature of His reality is thus unlike the reality [of created things]. This is what the prophet meant when he said, “Hashem our God is true” (Yermiah 10:10), He alone is true and nothing else is true like Him. This is what the Torah states, ein od milvado, “There is nothing else besides Him” (Devarim 4:35). In other words, there is no other true reality like Him.
Every believing Jew accepts the principle; only Moshe internalized it.
Back at the Rock
Now we understand why Moshe used the first-person when he brought out water from the rock. In order to facilitate the performance of this supernatural event, in order to channel a divine will in flagrant violation of natural law, Moshe needed to disregard physical reality, including the reality of his own self. As Rabbi Chaim Volozhiner explained, when Moshe transmits a prophecy in the first-person, he is absenting himself and allowing the Shechina to speak through him. And so at the rock, when Moshe said, “Will we bring out water…?” it was Hashem’s words that Moshe declared, not his own.[9]
According to the Midrash, Hashem actually instructed Moshe to speak in His name.
“Speak to the rock.” Say in My Name, “Hashem said, ‘Give forth your waters!’” (Lekach Tov; Torah Shleima 60).
This Midrash lends credence to the Rach’s contention that Moshe should have made it clearer that he was acting as Hashem’s agent. Although Moshe did not quote Hashem explicitly, we can assume he was following orders and serving as Hashem’s mouthpiece. In fact, in the opinion of the Rambam, the legitimacy of this assumption was the source of Moshe’s sin. When Moshe called the people “traitors” (Bamidbar 20:10), the people naturally inferred that Hashem was angry with them; Moshe would never deride them without inside knowledge. Moshe’s sin was giving the Jews a false impression of divine displeasure (Shemonah Perakim, chap. 4).
In contradistinction to the Rambam who faults Moshe for appearing to speak in Hashem’s name, the Rach faults Moshe for failing to clarify that he was doing just that. The Rambam’s position highlights our issues with the Rach. Why does Moshe need to quote Hashem explicitly? As the Ohr HaChaim asked, doesn’t everyone know that Moshe always speaks in Hashem’s name?
Out of Matzah
In order to appreciate the Rach’s understanding of what happened when the Jews ran out of water, we would do well to go back to the early days in the desert and review what happened when the Jews ran out of food.
The entire community of Bnei Yisroel complained to Moshe and Aaron in the desert. The Bnei Yisroel said to them, “If only Hashem had killed us in the land of Egypt when we sat by the meat pot, when we ate bread to the fill! You have taken us out to this desert to kill this entire congregation by starvation!”… Moshe and Aaron said to the entire Bnei Yisroel, “Tonight you will know that Hashem took you out of the land of Egypt, and in the morning you will see the glory of Hashem. Your complaints against Hashem have been heard. What are we that you complain against us?”Moshe said, “Hashem will give you [quail] meat to eat in the evening and satisfying [manna] bread in the morning, for Hashem has heard your complaints which you have complained against Him. What are we? Your complaints are not against us, they are against Hashem.”
Shemos 16:2-8
One month after the Exodus, when the Jews ran out of provisions and began to starve, they turned in anger against Moshe and Aaron and attacked them for taking the nation out of Egypt and into the desert. This was an embarrassing failure of faith. Moshe and Aaron didn’t bring them out of Egypt, Hashem did!
How could the Jewish People lack clarity on an elementary truth which they witnessed with their own eyes? The answer is that the Jews certainly knew that Hashem was behind the miracles of the Exodus (Shemos 4:31, 14:31), however, they had difficulty conceiving of a companionate, all-powerful God who would starve them to death (cf. Shemos 17:7). This is what the Jews were saying to Moshe. “If Hashem wanted to kill us, He would have done it in Egypt. If we are starving in the desert, it can only be because of human error. It was your decision!”[10]
In response, Hashem delivers quail and manna. This was not intended merely to feed the nation, but to demonstrate by way of a miracle that Hashem takes personal responsibility for their welfare in the desert – because He is the one who put them there. This is what Moshe meant when he said, “Tonight you will know that Hashem took you out of the land of Egypt” (Rashi). According to the Ibn Ezra, both the quail and the manna served as “signs” which restored the faith of the Jews.
To further strengthen the recognition of Hashem, Moshe and Aaron repeatedly impress upon the people their powerlessness, their virtual nonexistence. “What are we?” Moshe and Aaron are making a critical point. They are nothing more than Hashem’s agents and therefore any complaint about life in the desert can only be taken as a complaint against Hashem Himself.
Armed with this historical background, we are prepared to return to the Rock.
Fixing a Broken Faith
It was a time of national crisis. The prophetess Miriam passed away and the nation’s water supply suddenly vanished. Stuck in the desert with nothing to drink, people panicked and the worst came out.
The nation challenged Moshe. “If only we had died with our brethren before Hashem! Why have you brought the congregation of Hashem to this desert? For us and our animals to die there? Why did you take us out of Egypt? To bring us to this evil place? This is not a place of planting, of figs, grapes and pomegranates! There is no water to drink!”
Bamidbar 20:3-5
After all the nation has been through and all they have witnessed, these ugly words are the height of cynicism and ingratitude. It is an uncomfortable truth that this complaint was aired often in the desert. Although it took on different forms, the idea was the same. Whether regretting their departure from Egypt (e.g. Shemos 17:3), expressing nostalgia (e.g. Bamidbar 11:5), or harping for a return (e.g. Bamidbar 14:4), the Jews seem to have positive feelings for a place of pain and enslavement. This is quite difficult to understand. For a Jew, missing Egypt makes as much sense as missing Germany.
Before we suspect the Stockholm syndrome, we should recall that by the end of the Ten Plagues, the Jews were free and the Egyptian people were bowing to Moshe and gifting the Jews with gold and silver. With the drowning of Pharaoh and his army in the Red Sea, Egypt ceased to exist as a sovereign state. The Jews could easily waltz back in and, in the ultimate poetic justice, take over the country and enslave their taskmasters. It took an extraordinary act of faith for the Jews to abandon the security of the Nile and walk into the deprivations of the desert and war with the Canaanites. Hashem said, “I remember the kindness of your youth, the love of your nuptials. You followed Me into the desert, into a land where nothing grows” (Yermiyahu 2:2). Great indeed was their love, but when the going got tough, some Jews regretted it.
However, the real travesty of the Jews’ complaint is not disloyalty or chutzpa, but the sin of heresy, the very same irrational heresy the people committed years earlier when they ran out of food. The Jews blame Moshe for the lack of water? The Exodus was orchestrated by Hashem, not Moshe! How could anyone think otherwise?
Human leaders are necessary, but they poses a threat to the sovereignty of Hashem.[11] It is far easier to become enamored with a physical human being than with an abstract infinite being. “Moshe was very great… in the eyes of the nation” (Shemos 11:3). When that happens, when a person is venerated, there is a danger of crossing the line from reverence to cult worship. “The nation realized that Moshe was late coming down from the mountain. They gathered around Aaron and said to him, ‘Get up and make us a god that will lead us, for we do not know what happened to the man Moshe who took us out of Egypt’” (Shemos 32:1). The Torah could not be clearer: The Jews built an idol, a Golden Calf, to replace Moshe. Apparently, some thought he was a god.
The Golden Calf was destroyed and the perpetrators were killed, but years later, Jews were again saying that it was Moshe, not Hashem, who took them out of Egypt. The water crisis, like the food shortage, was a test and the Jews failed miserably. The signs and wonders of the Exodus were designed to demonstrate the reality of the Almighty and the fragility of all else.[12] This should have built a solid foundation of faith, but when the water dried up, instead of faith, the Jews experienced fear. Questioning the wisdom of the Exodus, they doubted God and blamed Moshe.
Hashem responds in the same way He responded years earlier when the Jews blamed Moshe for the lack of food. He decides that a supernatural event is needed to bolster belief in the divine origin of the Exodus and the goodness of God, and to remind the nation that Moshe is no more than a messenger. When they ran out of food, Hashem recalled the signs of Egypt with the creation of miracle food, and now that they have no water, Hashem creates a new sign, miracle water.
“Take the staff and gather the congregation – you and Aaron your brother – and speak to the rock in front of their eyes…”
Bamidbar 20:8
Notice the elements which evoke memories of Egypt: the use of the staff, the partnership of Moshe and Aaron. Both function to take the spotlight off the personage of Moshe. Most tellingly, Hashem instructs them to perform the miracle in the presence of the people. “Gather the congregation… speak to the rock before their eyes.” This is exactly how the signs were performed in Egypt. “He performed the signs before the eyes of the nation” (Shemos 4:30). The hope was that witnessing water flowing from a rock would sanctify Hashem’s name and, like the signs of Egypt, restore faith in the fundamental principle of Judaism, immortalized in the first of the Ten Commandments: Hashem exists. He is the sole power that runs the world, and He is the one, the only one, who took us out of Egypt and gifted us with freedom.
Moshe misunderstood. He thought this was about supplying drinking water. Moshe didn’t catch the heresy implicit in the people’s words, for in his humility Moshe viewed himself as nonexistent; nothing more than an agent, an angel, of Hashem. Moshe was accustomed to speaking in Hashem’s name, and so when he hears people blaming him for the Exodus, he innocently assumes they are referring not to him, but to Hashem.[13] After all, years earlier when they ran out of food, Moshe had made it clear that all complaints would be received as complaints against Hashem. This is why Moshe did not hear a denial of divine providence; all he heard was a protest about the lack of water.
Serving as Hashem’s spokesperson, Moshe uses the divine “we.” “Will we bring forth water from this rock?” With this dangerously ambiguous language, Moshe unwittingly undermined Hashem’s plan.
Hashem said to Moshe and to Aaron, “Since you did not trust Me to sanctify Me before the eyes of the Jewish People, you will therefore not bring this congregation into the land which I have given them.”
Bamidbar 20:12
The miracle at the rock was supposed to put an end to the cult of Moshe. Ironically, Moshe’s humility exacerbated the problem. As the Rach wrote, to some Jews – particularly those who blamed Moshe for their predicament – Moshe’s choice of words sounded as if he was using his own powers to produce water. Worse, it reinforced the notion that Moshe was the one who took the nation out of Egypt. The situation has gone from bad to worse and Hashem is forced to take drastic measures. Hashem decrees that Moshe and Aaron will die in the desert. It is a tragedy, but the people must face the mortality of their heroes.
When the nation is bereft of its great leaders, when Miriam, Aaron and Moshe have all passed on and their bodies lie buried in the Sinai Desert, Jews will finally cease putting their faith in people, magic, and the natural forces of the world. Even the weakest will wake up and realize that the only dependable power is Hashem. In the end, Moshe will achieve in death what he failed to achieve in life: the nullification of man and the sanctification of Hashem in the eyes of the Jewish People. When that happens, the nation will finally be ready to enter the Promised Land.
[1]
“Commentators say that there are statements posed as questions that are meant
in the affirmative” (Ramban). Interestingly, three of the four examples cited
by the Ramban are statements made not by man, but by Hashem. One is a famous
verse, “Did you eat from the tree which I commanded you not to eat?” (Bereishis
3:11). The question is clearly rhetorical; the same could be said for Moshe’s
question at the rock.
[2]
The Ramban asks several questions on Rashi. 1. Hashem told Moshe to take the
staff; that implies he should use it. 2. Why does the Torah (Devarim 32:51)
call this a sin of me’ilah? 3. Moshe and Aaron spoke to the
nation in the presence of the rock; that should satisfy Hashem’s directive to
speak “to” the rock. We could add another question: Why was Aaron punished?
[3]
Even when the Jews built a golden calf to replace Moshe, it was not because
they thought Moshe was a deity. “It is a known fact that the Jews did not think
Moshe was God and that he had himself performed the miraculous signs and
wonders for them…” (Ramban, Shemos 32:1). However, elsewhere the Ramban suggests
otherwise. “It is also possible to say that the nation believed in Hashem and
prayed to Him to save them, but they also harbored doubts about Moshe, maybe he
had taken them out [of Egypt] in order to rule over them. And even though they
had witnessed miraculous signs and wonders, they thought it possible that Moshe
had done it using [magical] wisdom…” (Ramban to Shemos 14:10).
[4]
This is the concept of “ein od milevado,” i.e., nothing exists other
than the perfect unity of Hashem, and the universe is but a mirage masking the presence
of God. Despite its truth, Rabbi Chaim Volozhiner goes to great lengths to
underscore the dangers of this concept and the threat it poses to Torah and
Halacha (cf. Nefesh HaChaim 3:1-8). In short, this perspective is indeed
the perspective of Hashem, but it is not for man to dwell on it (unless your
name is Moshe). Humans are obligated to stay focused on their own legitimate
perspective, namely, that the created universe is real.
[5]
For more on the humility of Moshe, see Rabbi Paul Gelb’s article in this
edition of Nitzachon.
[6]
“All divine names are considered labels [which describe attributes]; the name
of Y-H-V-H is the name of God’s essence” (Ruach Chaim 1:1). Citing the
Zohar, Reb Chaim qualifies this statement in Nefesh HaChaim (2:2). The
infinite nature of Hashem transcends human comprehension and it is forbidden to
label it with any name. Y-H-V-H refers to the divine essence only inasmuch as
it relates to the created universe.
[7]
Rabbi Meir Simcha of Dvinsk goes so far as to say that Moshe elevated himself
to a level where he lost his free-will and lacked the ability to disobey
Hashem, cf. Meshech Chochmah, introduction to Shemos.
[8]
“All prophets gazed through an unclear lens, but Moshe Rabbeinu gazed through a
clear lens” (Yevamos 49b). The Rambam enshrined this point in his list
of fundamental principles. “The seventh principle is the prophecy of Moshe
Rabbeinu… He reached the level of angels. There did not remain before him any
screen that he did not rend and none of the obstructions of physicality stopped
him…”
[9]
Hashem occasionally uses the royal “we,” as in “Let us make man” (Bereishis
1:26). “The use of pluralis majestatis, the royal “we” employed by human
sovereigns to proclaim their will to their subjects, is indicative of the
nature of their rule… he issues decrees and edicts solely for the general good
and the general welfare… So, too, in our verse, the Creator announces the rule
of man – for the good of the world and out of concern for its destiny. And so
we find, in the section on the scattering of the people of the world: ‘Let us
go down…’ (Bereishis 11:7)” (The Hirsch Chumash, Bereishis 1:26). This would
not be the first or the last time Hashem asks a rhetorical question; see note
1.
[10]
What they failed to understand was that starvation was a deliberate part of the
divine plan: it challenged the Jew and steeled his faith. “I afflicted you. I
starved you. I fed you the manna… so that you would know that man does not live
on bread alone, rather man lives by the word of Hashem” (Devarim 8:3).
“[Hashem] who fed you manna in the desert… in order to afflict you and in order
to test you, for your own good in the end” (ibid 8:16). See Ramban to Shemos
16:4.
[11]
See Shmuel I 8:7
[12]
See Ramban to Shemos 13:16
[13]
“I am standing between Hashem and you” (Devarim 5:5). Moshe’s unique position
allows him to serve both as a Hashem’s representative for the nation and as the
nation’s representative for Hashem. Indeed, Hashem occasionally speaks to Moshe
as if Moshe is the nation. “Hashem said to Moshe… so that you will tell
your children and your children’s children how I mocked Egypt…” (Shemos 10:2;
Ibn Ezra ad loc.). It follows that from the perspective of the people, Moshe could
be spoken of as if he was Hashem, as in the verse, Torah tzivah lanu Moshe,
“The Torah was given to us (lit., commanded) by Moshe” (Devarim 33:4).
