Moses as superhero: Shemot

by Rabbi Lawrence A. Hoffman

Remember the guy who was “faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive,” and so forth? Sure: Superman, the best comic-book superhero of them all. Let’s call him Superman One. But Superman One resurfaced as Superman Two in movies starring the late Christopher Reeve. The two are very different — and relevant to this week’s sedra.

Moses is the closest thing we have to a Jewish Superman. Look at his origins. As a baby, Moses is abandoned by desperate parents faced with the probability of his death. Seeing how beautiful he is (Exodus 2:2) they leave him to float down the Nile in a wicker basket. Ramban notes correctly that all parents would thus try to save their child, regardless of what the baby looks like, so the reference to Moses’ “beauty” must denote not just physical qualities but the recognition that Moses would become a miracle maker. Pharaoh’s daughter saves him for his destined task.

So too, did Jerry Siegel and Joseph Shuster, Superman’s inventors, craft Superman’s beginnings on Krypton as a baby who would have died had he not been set adrift by his parents. There too an unlikely stranger discovers and raises him, and he grows to work miracles for people threatened with evil. Both Superman and Moses are strangers in a strange land, the most pervasive theme in Torah. Siegel and Shuster were Jews; it seems likely that they imbibed this plotline from the seder. Superman’s native Krypton name was Kalel — conveniently close to kol El, Hebrew for “the voice of God.”

But as he grows up, Superman One does not completely fit the Jewish hero model. Unlike Moses (or for that matter, Abraham, Jacob, Rebecca, and the rest), he is not plagued with human foibles. Although he is allergic to Kryptonite and can’t see through lead, otherwise, he is perfect. That is why we like Superman Two better than Superman One. The comic strip featured a macho man who saved the world all alone, a complete loner. By contrast, the movies about Superman Two play up stumblebum Clark Kent — which reminds me of Moses the stutterer losing his voice in front of Pharaoh.

And this Superman needs Lois Lane. Similarly, Moses our greatest prophet (Torah tells us that), needed his wife, Zipporah. We glimpse that need in this sedra’s astounding narrative of only three verses (4:24-26). God unaccountably “seeks to kill” Moses, who is then saved by Zipporah’s decision to circumcise him (or his son — the story is ambiguous) on the spot. Either way, our commentators wonder why God “sought to kill” the very man who had just been chosen for a divine mission. In keeping with the Jewish hero model, they respond by demoting the great Moses to ordinary human stature. According to Rashi, for example, Moses hadn’t circumcised his son, a sign that he was negligent in fulfilling mitzvot.

Malbim provides a less judgmental but no less humanizing account. Torah says the event occurred bamalon, which he interprets as an inn. Instead of relentlessly pursuing his mission, Moses took the night off for “entertainment.” Like Superman Two flying Lois Lane around on a date.

I like best the tradition that highlights the conflict between our personal and public lives. Moses’ “job” was a full-time position. Like a general dispatched to some far-off war zone, Moses was en route to save Egypt’s Jews. The Talmud thinks he put off circumcising his son so as not to delay his journey, thereby putting his job before his family responsibilities — more like Superman One.

Rashbam, however, argues just the reverse. The point to note is that he actually took his family with him. In this model, even the busiest people do not abandon spouse and children. At first God is angry. What does God know from family? He tries to kill this “family man” who cannot be trusted to do the job right. But even God is thwarted. Zipporah uses God’s own mitzvot to demonstrate the importance of family. She deliberately delays the journey by circumcising her son. And God relents. Moses is saved.

Having a family differentiates Moses from Superman One. But modern movies are catching up to Judaism. Superman Two settles down with Lois; that other popular superhero, Spiderman, loves the girl next door.

This column is hardly about American superheroes. It is about Moses and Zipporah, their shared insistence on a private life, and Zipporah’s heroic action in making that family life real.

Still, the evolution of superheroes from comics to movies intrigues me because they reflect America and, therefore, us. I find it fascinating that even Moses and Zipporah had to fight the issue of integrating family and job, while sacrificing neither to the other. Superman and Lois are fun to watch. Moses and Zipporah are instructive to contemplate. Shabbat is a time for contemplation.

Lawrence A. Hoffman, an author and speaker on Jewish ritual, prayer, and spirituality, is a professor of liturgy at the Hebrew Union College in Manhattan.

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