JWR



Jewish World Review Dec. 29, 1998 / 10 Teves, 5759

The Prince of Hollywood


By Rabbi Yaakov Menken

'TIS THE SEASON in which serious Christians have long watched as others bled a hallowed day of its spiritual essence.

Now, thanks to The Prince of Egypt, the rest of us know how they feel.

The well-intentioned folks at DreamWorks, having met Hercules in previous artistic efforts, were apparently nonplussed by the Herculean task of finding a Moses that would offend no one. To their credit, they invited Jewish, Christian, and Moslem representatives to insure that no one's tradition would be trampled upon. And while these faiths overlap considerably, only Pinocchio could argue that these traditions coincide in their approach to any part of the Bible. So DreamWorks accomplished no small feat by avoiding stepping on some very diverse toes.

Ironically, however, Christians, Moslems and Jews all wound up equal losers in the process. They all paid an enormous price for a sanitized, non-offensive Moses. To please everyone, Moses was reduced into a prehistoric precursor of the modern national-liberation agitator. True, he seems a good deal more polite and humane than some of his twentieth century counterparts, but he emerged, shall we say, spiritually challenged. The Moses of the film may be courageous and good, but he is not godly.

The Prince of Egypt is a very different Moses than the one we were taught about. The Biblical Moses had G-dliness at the center of his being, and he demonstrated the ways in which closeness to G-d makes a difference in the quality of our behavior.

We read in the Bible that Moses was no jingoistic champion of his own people. True, he killed the Egyptian taskmaster who oppressed his brethren. But the very next narrative puts this incident in perspective. He chances upon a few women he has never met, who are being terrorized by some obnoxious and stronger shepherds. Moses rushes to the defense of these women as well, oblivious to his precarious position as a refugee in a strange land. Moses had a knee-jerk aversion to injustice - no matter whom it affected. And while the rest of us might simply note our displeasure from the sidelines, Moses was moved to take action.

The list goes on. The real Moses was a soul on fire. Given his opportunity to rub the magic lamp, to ask one thing from his Creator at a propitious moment, he does not seek more glory, or to found a personal dynasty. He asks, instead, to "see Your Glory"; to understand G-d more fully. While he leads and defends his beloved flock with passion, he is just as excited in chastising them when they are wrong. Once again, the Truth that he senses in G-d animates his battle for freedom far more than the need to throw off the yoke of Egyptian servitude.

What made the difference was his closeness with the Divine, and therefore DreamWorks has robbed Moses of his strength. As surely as a shorn Samson cannot fight the Philistines, a Moses without his G-d could never have stood up to the wicked Pharaoh.

To make Moses more attractive, the film took major liberties with the original story, calling upon Hollywood's tradition of improving on the truth. Thus the eighty-year-old redeemer of Israel easily has a half-century removed from his age, and additional tissue placed on his cheek bones. One could almost hear them asking: what 90s audience would go for an aged action hero? Similarly, DreamWorks' Prince of Egypt speaks clearly and forcefully, unlike the original Moses who suffered from a severe speech impediment. Halting speech does not a leading man make in Tinseltown. The producers seem to have forgotten that this classic, with all its improbabilities, has managed to stay on top of the charts for over three millennia. Perhaps people really want to hear that when the message is one of Divine Truth, it will be heard -- regardless of the rhetorical abilities of the messenger.

And how did Moses, the most able and successful leader, regard himself? The Bible says that he was the single most humble human being to walk the face of the earth. Success need not ruin character or breed arrogance, the traditional Moses tells us. To the contrary, the more insight one has about himself, the smaller one looks, compared to the majesty of the G-d he loves.

So now, we of other religions understand how disturbing it must be to deeply involved Christians to see "Merry Christmas" transformed into "Seasons Greetings." While the latter slogan does so much to include everyone into a spirit of joy and well-wishing, it must fall hopelessly short of expressing deeper yearnings and a more profound spiritual connection.

The great lessons of the Exodus do not end at political liberation and justice for all; any honest reading of the Biblical narrative indicates that freedom from the oppression of Egypt was only a means to an end - namely, the Covenant forged with G-d at Sinai and the subsequent establishment of a Holy Nation, dedicated to continuing the mission of Abraham: Teaching the "path of G-d, doing righteousness and justice" to the entire world.

In an age starved for heroes who can touch our souls, the traditional Moses is someone we need more than an ancient Mahatma Gandhi or Che Guevara. We deserved to receive a more uplifting gift to unwrap -- be that for Christmas, Ramadan, or Chanukah.


Rabbi Yaakov Menken is director of Project Genesis.

© 1998, Rabbi Yaakov Menken