Psycho-Spiritual Insights: Exploring Parasha and Psychology

In Parashat Chukat, the Bnei Yisrael are once again found in a familiar position: wandering the wilderness, thirsty, and discontent. With the recent death of Miriam, their miraculous source of water has disappeared. The people panic. They protest, and their complaints intensify, culminating in hostility against Moshe Rabeynu. In response to their despair, Hashem instructs Moshe to take his staff, gather the people, and speak to the rock. What unfolds, however, is a troubling moment. Moshe, rather than speaking to the rock, addresses the people harshly: “Listen now, you rebels! Shall we bring forth water for you from this rock?” He then strikes the rock twice. Water flows, and the people's immediate needs are met, but the aftermath is grave. Hashem tells Moshe and Aharon that because they failed to sanctify His name they will not enter Eretz Yisrael, known as the incident of Mei Merivah. While we are at no level to judge Moshe Rabeynu for his actions, we can learn a meaningful lesson regarding anger.

In psychology, anger is often referred to as a secondary emotion. That means it doesn't just appear out of nowhere, it emerges in response to more primary emotions like fear, sadness, helplessness, or pain. For many people, especially those in leadership or caregiving roles, anger can mask deep vulnerability. Anger can offer a momentary sense of control or power when one feels overwhelmed or unseen. But while it may feel protective in the short term, it often leads to outcomes that are disconnected from what we truly need: understanding, connection, or relief.

The episode at Mei Merivah has long puzzled Chazal. Rashi suggests that Moshe’s error was striking the rock instead of speaking to it. Ramban notes that Moshe had previously performed miracles using the staff and finds Rashi’s reading too simplistic. Rambam offers an alternative interpretation: the sin lay in Moshe’s anger. Calling the people “rebels,” expressing frustration publicly misrepresented Hashem. In a moment when Hashem intended compassion, Moshe conveyed exasperation. Yet Ramban also challenges this view, pointing out that Moshe had shown anger in the past without punishment. The Haamek Davar adds that the first strike produced little water, and only the second produced enough. What could have been done with one hit was done with two out of frustration.

Tehilim 106 reflects on this event, stating that the people provoked Moshe, and he suffered because of them. Their complaints and attacks triggered his response, but leadership demands a different standard. The Gemara in Pesachim 66b teaches that when a person becomes angry, wisdom departs from them, and if they are a prophet, their prophecy departs. Even the greatest leaders can falter when emotion overrides clarity.

Understanding anger as a secondary emotion helps reframe this entire episode. Moshe did not emote from nowhere. He was grieving his sister, shouldering the burden of an ungrateful nation, and likely feeling helpless. But the expression of that pain through anger compromised the sanctity of the moment. The Lubavitcher Rebbe, in Likutei Sichot, emphasizes that leaders must weigh not only their intentions but how their actions will be perceived. Spiritual influence depends on the ability to elevate, not just to act correctly, but to inspire clarity about Hashem. In our own lives, anger often masks deeper feelings we struggle to name. Addressing it means slowing down and becoming more intentional with how we respond.

Here are three tips to address our anger:

1. Identify what the anger is secondary to.
2. Before reacting, ask: Am I feeling afraid, hurt, overwhelmed, or ashamed? Often, identifying the core emotion helps us understand what really needs to be addressed.
3. Use regulation skills.
4. Pause. Breathe. Step away for a moment if needed. These small acts can disrupt the rush of reaction and give space for wisdom to return.
5. Communicate more clearly and honestly.
6. Instead of reacting from anger, try sharing the vulnerability beneath it. Say, “I’m feeling unappreciated,” or “I’m really worn down.” This builds connection and invites compassion.

Moshe’s actions at the rock were not an act of rebellion but of exasperation, of letting frustration overshadow faith. The punishment, while severe, was not about retribution. It was a reflection of a missed opportunity. A gentle word could have sanctified Hashem before the people in a powerful way. Instead, the moment passed, and with it, Moshe’s chance to enter the Land. Our challenge is to learn from this. When we feel tempted to lash out, whether figuratively or emotionally, we can stop, reflect, and speak instead. In doing so, we may not only avoid error, but bring greater sanctity into the world.