Parashat Yitro 5786

K’Ish Ehad: Organizational Infrastructure as a Path to Unity

A D’var Torah for Parashat Yitro

By Rabbi Scott “Shalom” Klein

Parashat Yitro stands as the essential fulcrum of the Book of Exodus, marking the transition from a newly liberated population to a covenanted nation at the foot of Sinai. This portion offers a profound exploration of the nature of communal leadership, the ethics of delegation, and the radical openness required to receive the Divine law. By examining the structural wisdom of an outsider and the communal unity required for the Aseret HaDibrot, we find a timeless blueprint for the rabbinate, particularly for those serving in the pluralistic environments of the military or the intimate settings of small-town pulpits.

The Parashah begins with a singular focus on an outsider through the words “וַיִּשְׁמַע יִתְרוֹ”—”And Yitro heard” (Exodus 18:1). While the entire world heard of the Exodus, the Midrash in Zevahim 116a asks what specifically Yitro heard that compelled him to leave his home and join the Israelites. Rashi explains that Yitro was moved specifically by the miracles of the splitting of the Reed Sea and the war with Amalek.

However, the Sforno (Rabbi Ovadia ben Jacob Sforno) suggests a more sophisticated internal process, arguing that Yitro recognized that Israel had reached a stage of spiritual readiness to receive the Torah. He did not merely hear news; he processed a paradigm shift and sought to join the mission.

This theme of “hearing” resonates deeply with my experience as a Jewish Army Chaplain. In the military, we operate within a pluralistic environment where truth is often reflected back to us from unexpected sources. Just as Yitro provided Moses with a necessary outside perspective, the service alongside those of diverse faiths provides a mirror to our own Jewish practice, reminding us that holiness is often recognized most clearly by those standing just outside our immediate circle. This “outsider perspective” is equally vital for the pulpit rabbi in a small community.

The Orev Or (Rabbi Ze’ev Wolf of Zhitomir) notes that Yitro could see what Moses could not because he was not yet immersed in the daily grind of the camp. To lead effectively, we must occasionally step back and adopt this “visitor’s eye” to identify communal blind spots that long-standing tradition may have obscured.

The encounter between Moses and Yitro provides the Torah’s primary blueprint for organizational structure. Yitro observes Moses acting as the sole arbiter for the people and offers the blunt critique that the thing he is doing is not good. Yitro’s warning of burnout—“נָבֹל תִּבֹּל” (thou wilt surely wear away)—is not just a pragmatic concern but a theological one. The Ramban (Nahmanides) notes that Moses, in his profound humility, did not view this as a challenge to his Divinely-invested authority, but instead sought God’s approval to ensure the ‘Torah of Truth’ had a sustainable vessel.

The Hizkuni (Rabbi Hezekiah ben Manoah) adds that “wearing away” also refers to the degradation of the message itself; when a leader is overwhelmed, the quality of their Torah inevitably diminishes. Yitro proposed a judicial hierarchy consisting of officers over thousands, hundreds, fifties, and tens. This structure is strikingly familiar to the military’s chain of command, where the distribution of responsibility ensures the health and readiness of the entire unit. In the context of a small pulpit, the “officers of tens” (שָׂרֵי עֲשָׂרֹת) are perhaps the most vital.

The numerical breakdown provided by the Ibn Ezra on Exodus 18:21 underscores the radical intimacy of this new structure. He calculates that this system created 78,600 leaders, with the vast majority serving as “officers of tens” (sarei asarot). This suggests that the ultimate goal was not merely judicial efficiency for the “thousands” at the top, but the establishment of a pervasive, relational leadership that reached down to the smallest units of the camp. In the context of a small pulpit, this serves as a powerful model; it reminds us that the rabbi’s role is not to be a solitary arbiter, but to empower lay leaders to sustain the community at a local, personal level—transforming the congregation from a group of spectators into a “kingdom of priests” where every ten individuals are held in a direct web of care and responsibility.

Once the organizational structure is established, the narrative ascends to the giving of the Torah. The Torah describes the arrival with a grammatical anomaly in Exodus 19:2, stating that Israel encamped there before the mount using a singular verb, “וַיִּחַן”. Rashi, citing the Mekhilta, explains that the singular verb signifies that the people were “כְּאִישׁ אֶחָד בְּלֵב אֶחָד”—”as one person with one heart.” This leads to a profound scholarly insight: the delivery of the Aseret HaDibrot was not possible until the communal infrastructure was set. The advice of Yitro regarding structure was the necessary precursor to the actual reception of the covenant, teaching us that one cannot receive the voice of God in a vacuum of chaos or isolation.

Parashat Yitro challenges us to ask if we have the capacity to recognize Divine truth when it comes from outside our traditional boundaries. It asks us if we are building sustainable structures that empower our communities or if we are attempting to carry the entire mountain ourselves. Whether serving in uniform, leading a small congregation, or studying in the halls of a seminary, the lesson remains that we stand before the mountain together. Only when we have organized ourselves into a community of shared responsibility can we truly hear the voice that speaks from the fire.