This is an abridged version of the essay Who am I?, written by Rabbi Sacks in 2011.
At the Burning Bush, Moshe asked God, “Who am I that I should go to Paroh? And how can I possibly get the people out of Egypt?” Moshe is asking two things. Who am I to be worthy of this great mission, and how can I possibly succeed?
God answers, “Because I will be with you.” He is saying that Moshe will succeed because he will not do it alone. God will be acting for him, and Moshe will be His voice. But God does not directly address the first question.
In Tanach, the people who turn out to be the most worthy are the ones who deny they are worthy at all, and this is never more the case than with Moshe. It is almost as if a sense of smallness is a sign of greatness, for those with great ambition are not usually those with the humility of a man like Moshe, and all too often do not make good leaders.
There is another question within Moshe’s question. “Who am I?” can be a question about worthiness. It can also be a question about identity. Moshe is not just speaking to God when he says those words. He is also speaking to himself. “Who am I? How can I lead these people to freedom?” There are two possible answers. The first: Moshe is a prince of Egypt. He grew up in the royal palace. He dressed like an Egyptian, looked, and spoke like an Egyptian.
The second was that he was a Midianite. Although he was Egyptian by upbringing, he had made his home in Midian, married Tzipporah, daughter of a Midianite priest, and lived there as a shepherd for many years. He left Egypt as a young man and was already eighty years old when he first confronted Paroh.
So when Moshe asks, “Who am I?” it is not just that he feels himself unworthy. He feels himself uninvolved. He was Jewish by birth, but he had not suffered the fate of his people. He had not grown up as a Jew. He had not lived among Jews. He doubted that the Israelites would even recognise him as one of them. So how could he become their leader? Why should he even think of becoming their leader? Their fate was not his. He was not part of it, and he did not suffer from it.
It is therefore not surprising that he resisted God’s invitation to lead the Israelites to freedom. So why did he accept? How did God know that he was the man for the task?
“When Moshe was grown, he began to go out to his own people, and he saw their hard labour.” Earlier in Shemot, we read that Moshe recognised the people were his people. He looked like an Egyptian but ultimately, he knew that he was not. It was a transforming moment, much like when Rut said to her mother-in-law Naomi, “Your people will be my people and your God my God.” Ruth was un-Jewish by birth. Moshe was un-Jewish by upbringing. But both identified with the people they saw suffering, and couldn’t walk away. Rav Soloveitchik called this a covenant of fate, brit goral. It lies at the heart of Jewish identity to this day. Some Jews who believe and some don’t. Some Jews practise and some don’t. But there are few Jews who, when their people are suffering, can walk away.
Rambam, who defines this as “separating yourself from the community” says that it is one of the sins for which you are denied a share in the world to come. This is what the Haggadah means when it says of the Rasha that “because he excludes himself from the collective, he denies a fundamental principle of faith.” What principle of faith? Faith in the collective fate and destiny of the Jewish people.
Who am I? asked Moshe, but in his heart he knew the answer. I am not Moshe the Egyptian or Moshe the Midianite. When I see my people suffer I am, and cannot be other than, Moshe the Jew. And if that imposes responsibilities on me, then I must shoulder them. For I am who I am because my people are who they are. That is Jewish identity, then and now.
Around the Shabbat Table
Questions to Ponder
What is the fine line between humility and self-doubt that distinguishes a strong leader from a weak one?
How do you think Moshe’s experiences as an “outsider” shaped the way he led Bnai Yisrael?
How does the concept of a “covenant of fate” apply to other figures in Tanach, like Ruth or Esther?
On the Parsha
Written by Sara Lamm
Inspired by the Teachings of Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks
The Parsha in a Nutshell
Paroh enslaves the Jewish people and commands that all Jewish baby boys be thrown in the Nile, but young Moshe is rescued by Paroh’s daughter and raised in the palace. He sees the people’s suffering and wants to help, even killing an Egyptian taskmaster. Then Moshe flees to Midian, marries Tzipporah, and becomes a shepherd.
One day Moshe sees and hears God in the Burning Bush. God tells him to demand Bnai Yisrael’s release from slavery and appoints Aharon, Moshe’s brother as his spokesperson. Paroh refuses to free the people and instead increases their suffering. But God says freedom is near.
Philosophy of Rabbi Sacks
Delving Deeper
Moshe’s question “Who am I?” reflects both a sense of unworthiness and a struggle with identity. Raised as an Egyptian prince and later living as a Midianite shepherd, Moshe had little connection to the suffering of his fellow people. His upbringing and lifestyle separated him from their plight, leaving him uncertain about his capacity to lead them.
Yet a deeper self-awareness emerges when he identifies with their pain, recognising them as “his people.” This shift exemplifies the dual nature of Jewish identity: humility before the enormity of responsibility and an unshakable connection to the collective fate of the Jewish people. Moshe realised he could not turn away from their suffering, accepting his role as their leader despite insecurity. His journey teaches that true identity is not defined by circumstance but by the willingness to shoulder responsibility for one’s people and their destiny.
Can you think of a time when you have “identified” with the collective suffering of your people (even if you were not personally at risk)?
Parsha Activity
The Headband Game
Here is a fun way to explore identity! Before Shabbat, write words or names (of animals, Torah figures, or objects) on sticky notes. During the game, players stick a card to their forehead or headband without looking, so only the other players can see the word. Each player takes turns asking yes/no questions to guess their own identity.
Reflect: Have you ever experienced a time when you weren’t sure of yourself?
A Story for the Ages
The Soup King
Once upon a time, a kind man named Rabbi Dov lived in a tiny home nestled in the cobblestone streets of Jerusalem’s old city. He didn’t have much, but rather than dwelling on his own hardships he focused his attention on the pain and suffering of those around him. Some of the nearby families didn’t have enough food to eat, and Rabbi Dov understood their struggles deeply. He knew what it felt like to go without, to worry about how to feed his family, so he felt a strong connection to their suffering. “How could I turn away those in need, when I know what it’s like to struggle?” he often asked himself. And so, despite his own challenges, Rabbi Dov decided to help.
Every day he went to his little kitchen and cooked up large pots of soup using the simplest of ingredients - vegetables, beans, and grains. It was plain but hearty, tasty, and just what was needed.
Word of Rabbi Dov’s soup spread through the neighbourhood. Soon families from all over came to his door, asking for a small bowl. And Rabbi Dov always obliged. “Who am I to turn away someone who has less than I do? I understand their struggle,” he would say as he ladled soup time and again.
As time passed, Rabbi Dov became known as the “Soup King of the City.” His bowls of soup helped feed many people, and soon, others were inspired by his kindness. Rabbi Dov’s young niece started making croutons to add to the soup. Others brought him bags of vegetables, donated money, or helped him with the cooking, and together, their generosity and effort allowed them to help more and more people.
Rabbi Dov’s story reminds us that genuine kindness comes from empathy. When we’ve experienced hardship, we are uniquely positioned to understand and connect with others. For even if we don’t have much, we can still make a big difference by sharing what we do have.
How do you think this story relates to Moshe in our Parsha?
On the Haftara
Written by Rabbi Barry Kleinberg
Inspired by the Teachings of Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks
A summary
The Haftara in a Nutshell
Isaiah 27:7-28:13 and 29:22-3 (Ashkenazi) Jeremiah 1:1-2:3 (Sephardi)
Ashkenazim begin with Isaiah 27:7–28:13, in which the prophet reflects on God’s dealings with His people. While God punishes Israel, His judgment is measured compared to His treatment of their enemies. God aims to refine His people, removing their idolatry and sin. Yet, Israel struggles with stubbornness and disobedience, rejecting God’s word.
In Isaiah 28:1–13, Isaiah denounces the leaders of Ephraim and Jerusalem for their arrogance, indulgence, and reliance on human wisdom instead of God. They mock God’s message, dismissing His call to repent.
Isaiah warns that this rejection will lead to judgment. In Isaiah 29:22–23, in which the restoration of Jacob (Israel) is envisioned. God’s redemption will bring transformation and reverence, and the people will come to honour God’s holiness and see His work, leading to renewed faith and obedience in the covenantal relationship.
Sephardim read a different passage, from an entirely different book. The opening of the book of Jeremiah, in which he is summoned to lead the people. God tells him that he was chosen before he was even born. Jeremiah feels unworthy but God assures him that He is with him. Jeremiah then has visions that God explains mean the people will be attacked, but God will protect them each time.
Points to Ponder
Can you name the women Rabbi Sacks is referring to in the Quote of the Week?
Can you name other women leaders in Tanach?
How many contemporary women leaders of the Jewish people can you name?
Tanach Connections
Parsha and Haftara Links
The Haftara read by Sephardim has an obvious connection to this week’s Parsha. Just as Yirmiyahu is reluctant to take on the mantle of leadership, so too in Shemot, Moshe is reluctant to lead the Jewish people out of Egypt. Both men initially protest that they do not know how to speak well. Both men overcome their reservations and become great leaders and orators of the people.
The connection between the Haftara read by Ashkenazim and the Parsha is less obvious. Let’s take a closer look.
One of the connections is linguistic. The first verse of both the Parsha and the Haftara contain the word “ha-ba’im” (literally “that come”). Whilst the word has different meanings in each text, it is unlikely to be accidental that this Haftara is chosen for this week’s Parsha. In Shemot the word relates to the sons of Yaakov who came to Egypt. In the Haftara, it refers to the days that will come in the future.
The opening verses of both texts have thematic links too. The Parsha opens with “And the children of Israel were fruitful, and increased abundantly, and multiplied….” The Haftara begins with “…Israel shall blossom and bud, and the face of world will be filled with its fruits.”
Putting the Prophets into Context
The Book of Kings
Rabbi Sacks teaches that there is a theme common to many of the greatest leaders in Tanach. “In Tanach as a whole, the people who turn out to be the most worthy are the ones who deny they are worthy at all.”
For instance, when Isaiah is charged with his mission, his protests, ‘I am a man of unclean lips’ (Is. 6:5). Jeremiah, in this week’s Haftara, is called on to lead and says, ‘I cannot speak, for I am a child’ (Jer. 1:6). Likewise David, Israel’s greatest king, echoes Moshe’s words, ‘Who am I?’ (II Samuel 7:18). Jonah, sent on a mission by God, tries to run away. According to Rashbam, Jacob was about to run away when he found his way blocked by the man (who may have been an angel) with whom he wrestled at night (Rashbam to Bereishit 32:23).
Rabbi Sacks concludes in this week’s Covenant & Conversation that these leaders “became heroes of the moral life against their will. There was work to be done – God told them so – and they did it. It is almost as if a sense of smallness is a sign of greatness.”
Quote of the Week
“...on the surface, the Parsha of Shemot is about the initiation into leadership of one remarkable man, but just beneath the surface is a counter-narrative of six extraordinary women without whom there would not have been a Moshe.”
What would be your first reaction is someone asked you to do an extremely important job, beyond anything you’d done before?
Written as an accompaniment to Rabbi Sacks’ weekly Covenant & Conversation essay, the
Family Edition
is aimed at connecting teenagers with his ideas and thoughts on the parsha.
With thanks to the Schimmel Family for their generous sponsorship of Covenant &
Conversation, dedicated in loving memory of Harry (Chaim) Schimmel.
“I have loved the Torah of R’ Chaim Schimmel ever since I first encountered it. It
strives to be not just about truth on the surface but also its connection to a
deeper truth beneath. Together with Anna, his remarkable wife of 60 years, they
built a life dedicated to love of family, community, and Torah. An extraordinary
couple who have moved me beyond measure by the example of their lives.” — Rabbi
Sacks
Who am I?
Family Edition
Shemot
Inspired by the teachings of Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks
Download PDF
Main Essay
Shemot
Who Am I?
Read More >
Share
The Summary
This is an abridged version of the essay Who am I?, written by Rabbi Sacks in 2011.
At the Burning Bush, Moshe asked God, “Who am I that I should go to Paroh? And how can I possibly get the people out of Egypt?” Moshe is asking two things. Who am I to be worthy of this great mission, and how can I possibly succeed?
God answers, “Because I will be with you.” He is saying that Moshe will succeed because he will not do it alone. God will be acting for him, and Moshe will be His voice. But God does not directly address the first question.
In Tanach, the people who turn out to be the most worthy are the ones who deny they are worthy at all, and this is never more the case than with Moshe. It is almost as if a sense of smallness is a sign of greatness, for those with great ambition are not usually those with the humility of a man like Moshe, and all too often do not make good leaders.
There is another question within Moshe’s question. “Who am I?” can be a question about worthiness. It can also be a question about identity. Moshe is not just speaking to God when he says those words. He is also speaking to himself. “Who am I? How can I lead these people to freedom?” There are two possible answers. The first: Moshe is a prince of Egypt. He grew up in the royal palace. He dressed like an Egyptian, looked, and spoke like an Egyptian.
The second was that he was a Midianite. Although he was Egyptian by upbringing, he had made his home in Midian, married Tzipporah, daughter of a Midianite priest, and lived there as a shepherd for many years. He left Egypt as a young man and was already eighty years old when he first confronted Paroh.
So when Moshe asks, “Who am I?” it is not just that he feels himself unworthy. He feels himself uninvolved. He was Jewish by birth, but he had not suffered the fate of his people. He had not grown up as a Jew. He had not lived among Jews. He doubted that the Israelites would even recognise him as one of them. So how could he become their leader? Why should he even think of becoming their leader? Their fate was not his. He was not part of it, and he did not suffer from it.
It is therefore not surprising that he resisted God’s invitation to lead the Israelites to freedom. So why did he accept? How did God know that he was the man for the task?
“When Moshe was grown, he began to go out to his own people, and he saw their hard labour.” Earlier in Shemot, we read that Moshe recognised the people were his people. He looked like an Egyptian but ultimately, he knew that he was not. It was a transforming moment, much like when Rut said to her mother-in-law Naomi, “Your people will be my people and your God my God.” Ruth was un-Jewish by birth. Moshe was un-Jewish by upbringing. But both identified with the people they saw suffering, and couldn’t walk away. Rav Soloveitchik called this a covenant of fate, brit goral. It lies at the heart of Jewish identity to this day. Some Jews who believe and some don’t. Some Jews practise and some don’t. But there are few Jews who, when their people are suffering, can walk away.
Rambam, who defines this as “separating yourself from the community” says that it is one of the sins for which you are denied a share in the world to come. This is what the Haggadah means when it says of the Rasha that “because he excludes himself from the collective, he denies a fundamental principle of faith.” What principle of faith? Faith in the collective fate and destiny of the Jewish people.
Who am I? asked Moshe, but in his heart he knew the answer. I am not Moshe the Egyptian or Moshe the Midianite. When I see my people suffer I am, and cannot be other than, Moshe the Jew. And if that imposes responsibilities on me, then I must shoulder them. For I am who I am because my people are who they are. That is Jewish identity, then and now.
Around the Shabbat Table
Questions to Ponder
On the Parsha
Written by Sara Lamm
Inspired by the Teachings of Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks
The Parsha in a Nutshell
Paroh enslaves the Jewish people and commands that all Jewish baby boys be thrown in the Nile, but young Moshe is rescued by Paroh’s daughter and raised in the palace. He sees the people’s suffering and wants to help, even killing an Egyptian taskmaster. Then Moshe flees to Midian, marries Tzipporah, and becomes a shepherd.
One day Moshe sees and hears God in the Burning Bush. God tells him to demand Bnai Yisrael’s release from slavery and appoints Aharon, Moshe’s brother as his spokesperson. Paroh refuses to free the people and instead increases their suffering. But God says freedom is near.
Philosophy of Rabbi Sacks
Delving Deeper
Moshe’s question “Who am I?” reflects both a sense of unworthiness and a struggle with identity. Raised as an Egyptian prince and later living as a Midianite shepherd, Moshe had little connection to the suffering of his fellow people. His upbringing and lifestyle separated him from their plight, leaving him uncertain about his capacity to lead them.
Yet a deeper self-awareness emerges when he identifies with their pain, recognising them as “his people.” This shift exemplifies the dual nature of Jewish identity: humility before the enormity of responsibility and an unshakable connection to the collective fate of the Jewish people. Moshe realised he could not turn away from their suffering, accepting his role as their leader despite insecurity. His journey teaches that true identity is not defined by circumstance but by the willingness to shoulder responsibility for one’s people and their destiny.
Parsha Activity
The Headband Game
Here is a fun way to explore identity! Before Shabbat, write words or names (of animals, Torah figures, or objects) on sticky notes. During the game, players stick a card to their forehead or headband without looking, so only the other players can see the word. Each player takes turns asking yes/no questions to guess their own identity.
Reflect: Have you ever experienced a time when you weren’t sure of yourself?
A Story for the Ages
The Soup King
Once upon a time, a kind man named Rabbi Dov lived in a tiny home nestled in the cobblestone streets of Jerusalem’s old city. He didn’t have much, but rather than dwelling on his own hardships he focused his attention on the pain and suffering of those around him. Some of the nearby families didn’t have enough food to eat, and Rabbi Dov understood their struggles deeply. He knew what it felt like to go without, to worry about how to feed his family, so he felt a strong connection to their suffering. “How could I turn away those in need, when I know what it’s like to struggle?” he often asked himself. And so, despite his own challenges, Rabbi Dov decided to help.
Every day he went to his little kitchen and cooked up large pots of soup using the simplest of ingredients - vegetables, beans, and grains. It was plain but hearty, tasty, and just what was needed.
Word of Rabbi Dov’s soup spread through the neighbourhood. Soon families from all over came to his door, asking for a small bowl. And Rabbi Dov always obliged. “Who am I to turn away someone who has less than I do? I understand their struggle,” he would say as he ladled soup time and again.
As time passed, Rabbi Dov became known as the “Soup King of the City.” His bowls of soup helped feed many people, and soon, others were inspired by his kindness. Rabbi Dov’s young niece started making croutons to add to the soup. Others brought him bags of vegetables, donated money, or helped him with the cooking, and together, their generosity and effort allowed them to help more and more people.
Rabbi Dov’s story reminds us that genuine kindness comes from empathy. When we’ve experienced hardship, we are uniquely positioned to understand and connect with others. For even if we don’t have much, we can still make a big difference by sharing what we do have.
On the Haftara
Written by Rabbi Barry Kleinberg
Inspired by the Teachings of Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks
A summary
The Haftara in a Nutshell
Isaiah 27:7-28:13 and 29:22-3 (Ashkenazi)
Jeremiah 1:1-2:3 (Sephardi)
Ashkenazim begin with Isaiah 27:7–28:13, in which the prophet reflects on God’s dealings with His people. While God punishes Israel, His judgment is measured compared to His treatment of their enemies. God aims to refine His people, removing their idolatry and sin. Yet, Israel struggles with stubbornness and disobedience, rejecting God’s word.
In Isaiah 28:1–13, Isaiah denounces the leaders of Ephraim and Jerusalem for their arrogance, indulgence, and reliance on human wisdom instead of God. They mock God’s message, dismissing His call to repent.
Isaiah warns that this rejection will lead to judgment. In Isaiah 29:22–23, in which the restoration of Jacob (Israel) is envisioned. God’s redemption will bring transformation and reverence, and the people will come to honour God’s holiness and see His work, leading to renewed faith and obedience in the covenantal relationship.
Sephardim read a different passage, from an entirely different book. The opening of the book of Jeremiah, in which he is summoned to lead the people. God tells him that he was chosen before he was even born. Jeremiah feels unworthy but God assures him that He is with him. Jeremiah then has visions that God explains mean the people will be attacked, but God will protect them each time.
Points to Ponder
Tanach Connections
Parsha and Haftara Links
The Haftara read by Sephardim has an obvious connection to this week’s Parsha. Just as Yirmiyahu is reluctant to take on the mantle of leadership, so too in Shemot, Moshe is reluctant to lead the Jewish people out of Egypt. Both men initially protest that they do not know how to speak well. Both men overcome their reservations and become great leaders and orators of the people.
The connection between the Haftara read by Ashkenazim and the Parsha is less obvious. Let’s take a closer look.
One of the connections is linguistic. The first verse of both the Parsha and the Haftara contain the word “ha-ba’im” (literally “that come”). Whilst the word has different meanings in each text, it is unlikely to be accidental that this Haftara is chosen for this week’s Parsha. In Shemot the word relates to the sons of Yaakov who came to Egypt. In the Haftara, it refers to the days that will come in the future.
The opening verses of both texts have thematic links too. The Parsha opens with “And the children of Israel were fruitful, and increased abundantly, and multiplied….” The Haftara begins with “…Israel shall blossom and bud, and the face of world will be filled with its fruits.”
Putting the Prophets into Context
The Book of Kings
Rabbi Sacks teaches that there is a theme common to many of the greatest leaders in Tanach. “In Tanach as a whole, the people who turn out to be the most worthy are the ones who deny they are worthy at all.”
For instance, when Isaiah is charged with his mission, his protests, ‘I am a man of unclean lips’ (Is. 6:5). Jeremiah, in this week’s Haftara, is called on to lead and says, ‘I cannot speak, for I am a child’ (Jer. 1:6). Likewise David, Israel’s greatest king, echoes Moshe’s words, ‘Who am I?’ (II Samuel 7:18). Jonah, sent on a mission by God, tries to run away. According to Rashbam, Jacob was about to run away when he found his way blocked by the man (who may have been an angel) with whom he wrestled at night (Rashbam to Bereishit 32:23).
Rabbi Sacks concludes in this week’s Covenant & Conversation that these leaders “became heroes of the moral life against their will. There was work to be done – God told them so – and they did it. It is almost as if a sense of smallness is a sign of greatness.”
Quote of the Week
“...on the surface, the Parsha of Shemot is about the initiation into leadership of one remarkable man, but just beneath the surface is a counter-narrative of six extraordinary women without whom there would not have been a Moshe.”
Women as Leaders, Shemot, Covenant & Conversation
Further Ponderings
What would be your first reaction is someone asked you to do an extremely important job, beyond anything you’d done before?
Written as an accompaniment to Rabbi Sacks’ weekly Covenant & Conversation essay, the Family Edition is aimed at connecting teenagers with his ideas and thoughts on the parsha.
With thanks to the Schimmel Family for their generous sponsorship of Covenant & Conversation, dedicated in loving memory of Harry (Chaim) Schimmel.
The Last Tears
< PreviousComing Soon
More on Shemot
The Challenge of Jewish Leadership
Turning Curses into Blessings
Faith in the Future
The Light at the Heart of Darkness