Parshas Mattos-Masei 5785
An impoverished fellow is desperate for a meeting with Rothschild. Pulling any strings possible, he finally succeeds, and enters Rothschild’s impressive office. As the fellow sits down, Rothschild sizes him up, his unkempt hair, shabby clothes, and shoes falling apart.
“Mr. Rothschild,” the man begins, “I greatly appreciate your taking this meeting. I’ve been waiting for some time to have the opportunity to speak with you.”
“Is that so?” Rothschild asks. “You could have fooled me. I would have thought that if the meeting was that important to you, you would have dressed up a bit for the occasion.”
“Dear Mr. Rothschild,” the man replied. “If I could have dressed any better, I wouldn’t need a meeting with Rothschild.”
In referencing the Heads of Tribes that Moshe address at the beginning of the Parsha, the Torah uses the term “Rashei HaMatos,” literally, the heads of the staffs. Indeed, the staff in the hand of an individual may well have bore the connotation of leadership of a given group, but the same could be said of the word “shevet,” a term that also means tribe in the usual context, yet more literally refers to a rod or staff.
Yet “mateh” conveys an additional layer of meaning not present in the word “shevet.” The term “mateh“ connotes inverting, of bringing that which is higher down to a lower plane. In Hebrew, “l’hatos,’’ is to incline or invert. When one strikes with a mateh, he does just that, bringing the top of the staff down low.
This, suggests Rav Aharon of Cherynobyl, is the implicit message to the leaders of the nation in referring to them as “Rashei HaMatos”. That despite their elevated state, despite all they’d achieved, despite their impressive resumes that made them worthy to serve as leaders in the first place, there is a pronounced need for leaders to invert and incline, to lower themselves in the interest of truly connecting with and caring for those they lead.
The “mateh” is a powerful symbol not only for reminding leaders of their mission and how to fulfill it successfully, but also as a means of reframing one of the greatest challenges that leaders can face. Namely, maintaining patience and poise in the face of the failures and shortcomings of those you attempt to lead.
Consider parenting as one example of leadership. A parent’s goal is to teach their child critical life skills, to imbue them with a system of proper values, and to shepherd them to a state of maturity. In a very real sense, then, success as a parent hinges enormously on the behavior of the child. If the child is receptive to the parent’s messaging and leadership, the parent will feel accomplished. If not, not.
Which means that every foolish misstep and immature blunder that the child makes cuts deep. A parent has staked so much on the success of his child, that the child’s failure feels like his own. And the same goes for direct reports in an office, students in a classroom, or any other venue in which a leader pours enormous time and energy into the shepherding of others towards a series of goals. When they fail, so has he.
There’s much to be said about the importance of decoupling the success of the leader from the success of those he leads, but even assuming that the narrative is fundamentally true, that the reality is that the success of the leader is determined by the led, the mateh reminds us of another, simultaneous, reality. And that is that if it is the leader’s role and privilege to lead, then those who are led must not be perfect; they must stumble and fall.
A couple of weeks ago I wrote about the importance of followers. That without followers, there are no leaders, only individuals whose goals are too vast to possibly accomplish themselves. That is something for not only the followers themselves to remember, but the leaders as well. That what they seek to accomplish can be done only through partnering with those willing to walk behind them.
The notion of mateh adds another element. That if the followers never faltered, they wouldn’t need the leaders. Consider once more the example of children. How often do we become frustrated as parents that our children have exhibited poor behavior, demonstrate immaturity, or behave irresponsibly in some other manner? Yet isn’t it those very moments that prove the need for us as parents to begin with? If our children always behaved admirably, would they need us at all for direction and guidance? If our children were perfect, would the nachas we’d receive from them be genuine?
Parenting, like all areas of leadership is an exercise in inverting the experience, wisdom, and talent we possess, making it accessible to those under us. There is no greater satisfaction that helping someone in need and guiding those in need of assistance. Yet if those individuals who turn to us for guidance, who provide us with the gratification of leadership would always exhibit stellar behavior, they wouldn’t need us, and we’d be bereft of the joy of leading.
If the pauper could dress better, he wouldn’t need Rothschild. And if Rothschild weren’t needed, would he be Rothschild at all?
It is not the objective to ensure that those we lead are forever failing, all in the interest of maintaining our leadership. Indeed, Rav Shamshon Raphael Hirsch commented that the teacher is the person whose role it is to make himself superfluous. Creating a cadre of forever-needy followers cannot be the objective of any sincere leader.
But the reality of mateh is something that at the very least can help us be more patient and understanding when we suffer the frustrations of leadership. In truth, we should be neither surprised nor annoyed by less-than-stellar behavior from those we lead. After all, if they were perfect, they wouldn’t need to be led.
What if the next time your child was disrespectful, your team member exhibited incompetence, or your student was lazy, you responded not with annoyance, but with an accurate assessment of what you were witnessing? “Of course they’re not perfect. If they were, they wouldn’t need me. And what a privilege it is to be needed.”