By Rabbi David Evan Markus
Vayikra 5785 (2025)
Open any Torah scroll to the first word of this week's Torah portion, Leviticus, which launches the third of the Five Books of Moses by that same name. In that first word of the first portion is the first letter of the Hebrew alphabet (aleph, א), written in oddly tiny superscript.
Sometimes the small comes to teach us big lessons. So too here – especially for anyone who leads. Leviticus opens simply (Lev. 1:1):
Vayikra 5785 (2025)
Open any Torah scroll to the first word of this week's Torah portion, Leviticus, which launches the third of the Five Books of Moses by that same name. In that first word of the first portion is the first letter of the Hebrew alphabet (aleph, א), written in oddly tiny superscript.
Sometimes the small comes to teach us big lessons. So too here – especially for anyone who leads. Leviticus opens simply (Lev. 1:1):
וַיִּקְרָ֖א אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֑ה וַיְדַבֵּ֤ר יהו''ה֙ אֵלָ֔יו מֵאֹ֥הֶל מוֹעֵ֖ד לֵאמֹֽר׃ | YHVH called to Moshe; and spoke to him from the Tent of Witnessing, saying |
For nearly 2,000 years, the tradition has been to write that first word (Vayikra, or "called") with a tiny aleph. Teachings abound about why – and they all relate to healthy humility.
In one, Moses – whom Torah tells us was "the most humble person" (Num. 12:3) – couldn't bear to be singled out by being "called," so Moses wrote the aleph small as if to make it disappear. Without the aleph, the Hebrew word can mean "happened onto": God just happened onto Moses, thus diminishing Moses' importance.
In another, God still "calls" to Moses but the tiny aleph connotes a small and quiet call – not with big fanfare but gently, almost secretly, so as not to overwhelm Moses or draw attention.
In a third, the aleph is tiny to remind that as much as one may think one knows, often there is much shrunken or hidden from our conscious awareness. The "call" Moses heard was to come before God open to this existential truth, and thus become open to receiving others.
For Jewish spirituality, and especially spiritual community, perhaps all three teachings are important.
Those who lead anything – whether an organization, a family, a team, a project, or just one's own life! – are "called" to lead in ways that make room for others, credit them and thereby cultivate them. That way, Jewish life can model forms of leadership that build leadership ladders for others.
Yes, leadership can entail big fanfare and lots of attention. As author Alan Morinis puts it in his masterpiece Everyday Holiness, humility doesn't inherently mean being small. Rather, humility means taking up the right amount of space for a given situation: no more, and no less. For exactly this reason, effective leadership – both in ourselves and in how we cultivate others – requires taking stock of the amount of space each situation requires, then adjusting.
In all contexts, the tiny aleph reminds that we're likely to know less than we think. Is there a perspective we're missing? It might be shrunken from view. Are we sure we know why so and so did or didn't do this or that? Our assumptions might be wrong. Can we make space, and time, and heart, to find out?
Most of all, the tiny aleph hints that we're "called" not just to God and leadership but also to honor. Remove the tiny aleph entirely and the remaining letters also can mean "honor."
Sometimes the smallest and quietest can be the biggest of all.
In one, Moses – whom Torah tells us was "the most humble person" (Num. 12:3) – couldn't bear to be singled out by being "called," so Moses wrote the aleph small as if to make it disappear. Without the aleph, the Hebrew word can mean "happened onto": God just happened onto Moses, thus diminishing Moses' importance.
In another, God still "calls" to Moses but the tiny aleph connotes a small and quiet call – not with big fanfare but gently, almost secretly, so as not to overwhelm Moses or draw attention.
In a third, the aleph is tiny to remind that as much as one may think one knows, often there is much shrunken or hidden from our conscious awareness. The "call" Moses heard was to come before God open to this existential truth, and thus become open to receiving others.
For Jewish spirituality, and especially spiritual community, perhaps all three teachings are important.
Those who lead anything – whether an organization, a family, a team, a project, or just one's own life! – are "called" to lead in ways that make room for others, credit them and thereby cultivate them. That way, Jewish life can model forms of leadership that build leadership ladders for others.
Yes, leadership can entail big fanfare and lots of attention. As author Alan Morinis puts it in his masterpiece Everyday Holiness, humility doesn't inherently mean being small. Rather, humility means taking up the right amount of space for a given situation: no more, and no less. For exactly this reason, effective leadership – both in ourselves and in how we cultivate others – requires taking stock of the amount of space each situation requires, then adjusting.
In all contexts, the tiny aleph reminds that we're likely to know less than we think. Is there a perspective we're missing? It might be shrunken from view. Are we sure we know why so and so did or didn't do this or that? Our assumptions might be wrong. Can we make space, and time, and heart, to find out?
Most of all, the tiny aleph hints that we're "called" not just to God and leadership but also to honor. Remove the tiny aleph entirely and the remaining letters also can mean "honor."
Sometimes the smallest and quietest can be the biggest of all.