For you, this is just your little brother. For you, this is just your little sister, your big brother. For you, it’s just your cousin. For you, it’s just your parents. How many times have I had to hear at a shiva (seven-day mourning period), “I’m his brother 50 years, 75 years”? I never knew who they were. I never knew my sister did this kind of chesed (acts of lovingkindness). I never knew that my brother lent all these people money. I always thought my father wasn’t a religious guy. All these rabbis are coming in, telling me how he went to this and he did that. He went to other places. And only now am I finding out at the shiva who my father was. Who my mother was. Who my brother is. Sisters. So many times, the people in our lives are seen by everybody else in one light and not by you. Partially because the frame and the context in which you place a person can become like a prison that the person can never escape.
You know, you see your father in a certain way, or your father is very harsh with you. You think your father doesn’t have any compassion. Loads of compassion. It’s not for you. Because for you, he doesn’t want anything but the best. And he’s not going to give you a free ride. And he knows that you can take over the whole company. So he’s going to yell at you, “Bum, get out of bed,” because, for what you could do, this is not acceptable. So a person lives their life thinking that their father is a mean guy, and then, chas veshalom (God forbid), at the shiva, you start to hear the stories of chesed. You’re like, “Oh my God, I didn’t know my own father.” And then your father’s friend comes to you and says, “You know how many times your father told me how proud he was of you? He used to brag to all of his friends.” What? He gave me one compliment in my whole life. All of a sudden, the whole picture is different.
One of the things we’re learning over here is: You think you know your brother. You think you know your family. How many times did they not say anything? Now I look at this Pasuk (verse) with different eyes. Miriam talks about her brother, and the Pasuk says, “Is he any different than us?” How do you read this Pasuk? Do you read this Pasuk as saying that God therefore stepped in? Maybe that’s how you read it, because this Pasuk doesn’t need to be here, right? They spoke about their brother. Okay. Their brother was different from them. Vayomer Adonai (And Adonai said). Skip the Pasuk. Why are you telling me Moshe’s anav (humble) pedigree? One answer is that, since he was anav, he’s not going to defend himself. He’s not going to defend himself. Hashem defends him. Hashem yilachem lachem, ve’atem tacharishun (Hashem will fight for you, and you shall be silent). One answer.
But another answer is that there are two reasons why you don’t know your siblings. One reason is because they could not tell you who they were. Your relationship with them is such that if you ever told them, you would mock them. If you ever told them, you would put them down. “Oh, you’re so religious now. I remember. You’re coming in now at the Chalav Yisrael (Jewish-supervised milk). I remember when you used to eat chelev. Forbidden fats.” Sometimes the reason why they can’t communicate is that the brothers and sisters wouldn’t be able to handle it. So they low-key themselves down. “I’m just one of you.” And they’re not. They’re a leader of all of Am Yisrael (the people of Israel), says the Pasuk.
The reason over here was not that Aharon and Moshe could not handle it. As we know, when Moshe is chosen over Aharon, what does the Pasuk say? God says to him, “Don’t worry. You’re worried he’ll be upset. He’ll be resentful. He’ll try and knock you down. He won’t let you want to take over the company.” “Where have you been all this time? You ran away. You haven’t been here. I’ve been here. I’ve been in the trenches. Don’t come take my job. Don’t step on my toes.” God says, “That’s not what Aharon says. He’s going to be happy for you. Leapfrogging him. He’s going to be happy you’re amazing.” Says the Pasuk, you know why they didn’t know? It’s not because of them. It’s because of him. Moshe could never tell them that. He would never tell them that. Normally, brothers like Moshe and Aharon, and a sister like Miriam, would be able to tell the difference themselves. But here, they had no way of telling the difference, because there had never been, nor would there ever be, another Navi (prophet) like Moshe.