Parshat Pinchas – July 18, 2025 / 22 Tamuz 5785

Person 1, longing to be a part of the group says, “I really like that band, too. I’m a fan!” Person 2 responds, “You don’t even understand what heavy metal music is. If you haven’t seen the band live, you’re not really a fan.” Gate shut. “I heard that show is so funny! I should really watch it” or “I always love hearing clips from that podcast!” “well, if you haven’t watched *insert show here*, or listened to *insert podcast name here* by now, you will never understand it.” Gate shut. I have been reading a lot about the idea of “gatekeeping” lately. Gatekeeping as a modern cultural concept refers to intentionally withholding from others information, knowledge, opportunity and access. It appears as if the practice of gatekeeping can be seen as either a positive or negative, depending on the context. On the more positive side, if one is a gatekeeper of a culture whose practices, language, or customs are becoming sparse or endangered, this cultural gatekeeping can be quite useful and necessary to the survival of the culture itself; and also aid in avoiding appropriation. On the negative side, enter the chaotic world of social media. I have heard gatekeeper or gatekeeping used to refer to a manner in which others are excluded. For example, if someone posts a video about fashion on social media and someone comments, “I love that dress, where did you buy it!?”, being met with no answer or an outright denial of information can be hurtful, damaging, and confusing. Certain fans of niche games, shows and media can engage in gatekeeping to exclude others as well. Telling someone that they are too unsophisticated to enjoy a book, and not lending them the copy, could be seen as gatekeeping. You get the idea.

Oftentimes when people entangle their identity with something cultural, whether we view it as profound and legitimate, or as silly and arbitrary, the reaction can be the same: This is mine, and you are not qualified to have it. There is a challenge in deciding when to open the gate, when to shut it slightly, and when to slam the gate shut and chain it locked.

In this week’s Torah portion, Moses is led by God to the mountain of Abarim. He is told to view the Promised Land, is reminded of his transgressions, and then told once again that he will not ever enter this land. This is a moment when Moses could have chosen to sit idly by, bitterly complaining about the unfairness of God’s decree. He could have gone the way of the saboteur and said, “If I am not leading them there, no one should.” Moses, who had put up with so much kvetching and strife via the people of Israel, could have thrown his hands up. Moses does the opposite. His subsequent attitude and behavior is just another example of what makes him so great. Moses does not only welcome someone else into the prophetic fold, but he requests from God that God pick someone to maintain the momentum of the people after he has gone. Moses asks for the gate to be opened responsibly and thoughtfully.

Moses requests a successor. He is worried not of his own legacy or of even his own pride, but of the future of the people of Israel. He wants to make sure that there exists someone in place who will take the people out, and bring them in. He fears that without a proper succession plan, the people will wander like sheep with no shepherd. Soon thereafter, Joshua ben Nun is chosen, and Moses, again, instead of throwing his hands up and checking out, he places his hands on Joshua’s head in front of the people of Israel. There should be no doubt regarding the next steps on the journey. Moses is said to have “placed some of his majesty,” upon Joshua. He wants to transfer his leadership qualities to Joshua. We often hear Moses compared to the sun and Joshua to the moon. The moon, while bright, reflects the sun’s light. Moses does not have to give up who he is to pass down his wisdom, knowledge, and love. He is inclined to shine his light on those who come next. This comes at a disappointing time for Moses, when it would have been easy for him to turn the light off.

This week, let us ask ourselves: How do we gatekeep in our own lives? Do we scoff, even internally, at those who might not know as much as we do about a particular topic, or who we view as not worthy to attend the proverbial party? Do we acknowledge that knowledge and wisdom kept behind lock and key eventually becomes lost? How do we raise up those around us to ensure that the journey to the promised land continues without too much of a disturbance? Can we take a moment out of our own lives to pass it down, to share the wealth, to lay our hands on those who wish to continue down the path of excellence. Now, we can aspire to Moses’ level of humility, but that’s a tough ask. Our great sage, Rashi, makes it clear in his commentary that Moses would have wished his own son to be the next leader of the people of Israel, but Joshua was the best choice. The Jewish people always seem to revert to this biblical meritocracy. Joshua never departed from Moses’ tent, and as Shlomo ha-Melech said, “The one who watches over the fig tree should eat its fruit.” It is Joshua’s turn to lead, and Moses knows it.

Let us all be blessed to open the gates when necessary, and to the right people. In the spirit of Hachnasat Orchim, or being hospitable to the guests, perhaps we can err on the side of welcoming rather than turning people away at the gate. You have knowledge, wisdom, experience, or know about something interesting. Share it. Pass it down, and pass it around. If someone says they like heavy metal music, don’t shut them down. Be like Moses, and show them the latest song. Invite them to the concert. If it is true that all we do ultimately leave behind is love…let’s make a concerted effort to give it away. Gate open.

Shabbat Shalom

– Rabbi Josh Gray