Parashat Chukat: Why Didn’t Moshe Enter the Land – and What Does That Teach Us About Ourselves?

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Parashat Chukat
Why Didn’t Moshe Enter the Land – and What Does That Teach Us About Ourselves?

Why Does Living in the Land of Israel Require More Emunah than Any Other Land?

Israel is a Land that demands a very high level of emunah (faith) – especially during the trying yet spiritually significant times we are privileged to live through. When my husband and I first settled in the Land as full-time students at Diaspora Yeshiva, I attempted to make a budget to see how we might make ends meet. I placed all our potential income on one page. I would tutor one student, and my husband would try to see a patient now and then. Afterward, I listed our expenses – house rent, electricity, and basic food – on another page. The numbers simply didn’t match up. The gap was so immense that I gave up trying to budget. Crumpling the papers into the garbage, I decided we would just live on emunah. And that worked.People would ask, “So, how do you support yourselves?” And I would answer by pointing to Heaven and saying, “Hashem!” Most people didn’t really buy that, but we truly lived that way – and experienced Hashem’s immense, individual providence beyond nature. As I later learned, the Land of Israel is “The Land that Hashem seeks out constantly; the eyes of Hashem your G-d are upon it” (Devarim 11:12). This teaches us that in the Land of Israel, the Divine supervision (hashgachah) is not like in other lands. Rather, it is special and individual Divine supervision,  beyond the bounds of nature. Netivot Shalom describes our experience so eloquently: “Through emunah, a person cleaves to the inner Divine vitality that flows in the Land of Israel – and thus draws upon himself the miraculous hashgachah (Divine supervision) that governs the Land. But when a person lacks emunah – Heaven forbid – the land ‘spits him out,’ because the holiness and providence of the Land are only drawn down through the channel of emunah” (Netivot Shalom, Bamidbar, Shelach, pp. 76-7).

I truly believe that our experience of living on emunah – without anything close to a fixed income for seven full years when we first settled in the Land – laid the foundation for our spiritual resilience. It helped us maintain our emunah through the sirens and the challenging war situation in which we recently found ourselves.

How Could Moshe, the Greatest of Prophets, Falter in Emunah?

It is hard to imagine that Moshe – the greatest of all prophets – could be lacking in emunah. He fearlessly confronted Pharaoh, led the Israelites out of Egypt with miraculous signs and wonders, and followed Hashem’s command through the Cloud of Glory and Pillar of Fire in the snake-infested wilderness. This is the same Moshe in whose merit the heavenly sustenance descended from above to the people for forty years in the desert. How could he be faith-deficient?

Yet in Parashat Chukat, at Mei Merivah – the Waters of Strife – we encounter one of the most heart-wrenching moments in the Torah. After decades of tireless leadership and unwavering devotion, Moshe is told that he will not bring the people into the Promised Land. The reason? A lack of emunah:

ספר במדבר פרק כ פסוק יב וַיֹּאמֶר הַשֵׁם אֶל משֶׁה וְאֶל אַהֲרֹן יַעַן לֹא הֶאֱמַנְתֶּם בִּי לְהַקְדִּישֵׁנִי לְעֵינֵי בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל לָכֵן לֹא תָבִיאוּ אֶת הַקָּהָל הַזֶּה אֶל הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר נָתַתִּי לָהֶם:

“Because you did not believe in Me, to sanctify Me in the eyes of the Children of Israel, therefore you shall not bring this congregation into the land which I have given them.” (Bamidbar 20:12).

Rashi explains that Moshe’s sin was striking the rock instead of speaking to it. Had he followed Hashem’s command precisely, the people would have witnessed a profound demonstration of emunah: “If a rock, which neither speaks nor hears nor requires sustenance, obeys the word of G-d – how much more so should we.” Rashi emphasizes that Moshe’s error lay in missing the opportunity to sanctify Hashem through speech. Hashem wanted the rock to respond to words – to highlight the power of Torah and emunah, rather than force.

Is there a Connection Between Moshe’s Striking the Rock and His Egyptian Upbringing?

Moshe’s striking of the rock symbolized a holdover from Egypt and the wilderness – a mode of leadership through coercion. But the Land of Israel operates on a different frequency: it is entered through sacred sound – like the walls of Jericho that tumbled through the sound of the shofar. On the threshold of entering the Holy Land, the mode of service must evolve into a place of voice and presence.

According to Ramban, Moshe and Aharon’s error lay in their words: “Shall we draw water for you from this rock?” (Bamidbar 20:10). Their phrasing implied that they, rather than Hashem, were the source of the miracle (Ramban, Bamidbar 20:8).

Water is the ultimate symbol of our dependence on Hashem and the necessity of emunah. As Rashi comments on Bereishit 2:5, Hashem did not cause vegetation to grow until Adam was created to recognize the need for rain and to pray for it. Only then did the earth yield its produce. Rain cannot be manufactured – it must be drawn down through prayer and trust in Hashem.

Through prayer and emunah in Hashem, the sustaining waters will rise by themselves as they did for Avraham, our Father, and Rivkah, our Mother, without physical effort on their behalf. Could it be that this lesson, so intrinsic to our relationship with Hashem, may not have fully integrated into Moshe’s leadership approach, since he had grown up in Pharaoh’s palace, where the Nile was falsely worshipped as the source of life?

Why Did Moshe Have to Suffer Such a Painful Consequence for a Subtle Mistake?

Moshe struck the rock rather than speaking to it, as Hashem had commanded. The water flowed nonetheless, quenching the people’s thirst – but the act cost Moshe the very goal he had yearned for over forty years. For this one deviation, he would see the Land only from afar.

This punishment seems disproportionately harsh. Had Moshe not suffered enough through the people’s constant complaints, their rebellions, and their repeated lapses in faith? Why would such a seemingly minor misstep deny him the privilege of entering the Land?

Moshe’s action at Mei Merivah reflected more than a missed opportunity. It marked a shift in spiritual orientation, necessary at the verge of entering the Holy Land. In Eretz Yisrael, speech is the tool of transformation. It is the land of prophecy, of prayer, of spiritual dialogue.

Thus, Moshe’s hitting the rock expressed a deeper spiritual tension – not simply a failure, but a mismatch between the kind of leadership needed in the wilderness and that required for the Land of Israel. In the desert, Divine miracles were often drawn down through force – as in striking the rock at Chorev early in the journey (Shemot 17:6), or in raising the staff to split the sea. That generation required external signs and dramatic transformation of nature to foster faith.

But Eretz Yisrael is different. It is a land where holiness is revealed not by forcefully overriding nature but by attuning to its inherent holiness through prayer. Its spiritual energy flows through emunah and song, not power or intervention. The Land demands a leadership that is attuned to subtle sanctity – drawing blessing through prayer, presence, and harmony with Divine will.

The next phase of the journey required a new kind of avodah – and a new kind of leader. In this light, Moshe’s action was not merely a personal failing but a Divine sign that a new mode of quieter, and deeper holiness was now to be revealed through Yehoshua’s leadership – the kind necessary for the next stage of the journey.

How Can We Rectify Our Own Mei Merivah Through Emunah?

In a deeper sense, each generation – and each of us individually – stands at our own Mei Merivah. We are all striving to enter the inner sanctity of the Land, whether physically or spiritually. And we, too, are tested: do we trust enough to speak gently, to sanctify Hashem in public through faith, or do we resort to control, impatience, or despair?

Moshe’s story is not only a tragedy; it is a mirror. It calls us to examine how we approach our own spiritual inheritance. Are we sufficiently aligned with Hashem’s will to merit the depth of connection the Land offers?

Even now, as we face the challenges of war, national pain, and uncertainty, we are invited to respond not with despair or anger, but with renewed faith. The Land is still calling us – not to strike, but to speak: to pray, to bless, to affirm our emunah out loud.

Moshe didn’t enter the Land, but he brought us to its border. It is up to us to cross it by transforming our inner from force or faith, from reaction to sacred response.