For people whose honorable title is one of importance and respect, the Torah is mysteriously silent. Who were “the 70 Elders?”
The Torah associates them with Moses. This is elevated company. The Torah says a lot about Moses’ birth, youth and emergence as the leader of the Israelites, but on the development of the Elders, the Torah is silent. What were the Elders’ names — who were they? What tribes did the Elders come from? What did they do? On all this, the Torah is silent.
Was their “Elders” title a function of age or of wisdom? Could a wise young person be an Elder? As we know from the Passover Haggadah, Rabbi Eliezer ben Azaryah said, “Note that I am like a man of 70 years of ago.” He was actually 18 years of age. Even at this young age he was named to be the head of the academy. But he didn’t look the part. Then his beard turned white and he did look the part. He became “like a man of 70.” Were the “Elders” mentioned in the Torah also of variable ages?
More questions: The first time that the Torah mentions the Elders, before the Exodus, it does not limit their number to 70 (Exodus 3:16). But then, after the Exodus, Moses is commanded by G-d to gather “70 of the Elders” (Exodus 24:1-2; Numbers 11:16). There seems to have been a large group of Elders and a select group of 70. If so, what made the 70 Elders special? And what distinguished them from the “leaders” of the people (Numbers 1:16; 13:2) and the “heads” of the people? (Numbers 13:3).
The Torah is silent.
The Torah does provide a vague description of the 70 Elders’ function. They stood next to Moses at the Tabernacle where G-d spoke to him, and where G-d apportioned from Moses’ spirit and placed it on the Elders. They then were to bear some of the burden of the people, rather than Moses having to bear it alone (Numbers 11:16-17).
What kind of burden? On this, too, the Torah is silent. It was not the burden of adjudicating disputes, from which Moses had already been relieved by the “judges” upon the advice of his father-in-law Jethro (Exodus 18:17-23). It was not the burden of teaching the people G-d’s decrees, teachings and commands, which was reserved for Moses (ibid). What was left for the Elders to do? In what way did they relieve Moses’ burden? The Torah is silent.
Midrash Tanhuma writes that the Elders first mentioned in Exodus were punished by death in the conflagration at Taverah (Numbers 11:2); punished for earlier having acted disgracefully in the presence of G-d. Hardly a ringing vote of confidence in the original group of Elders, and surely not a disclosure of the function they were supposed to fill. So we return to our original perplexity: Who were the Elders?
We can answer the question even though we do not know what the Elders did, other than provide vague relief to Moses.
Recall the context. The Elders are first mentioned toward the very end of the 210-year enslavement of the Israelites in Egypt. They are next mentioned a year after the Exodus, near the very beginning of the Israelites’ 40-year trek in the Sinai desert. This means that the Elders — both the larger group and the group of 70 — developed into Elders while they were enslaved in Egypt. This is a dramatic context. How could slavery produce “Elders?” What personal qualities did it take to become an Elder in horrendous conditions? The answers to these questions disclose the primary significance of the Elders.
Their appearance in the Torah teaches us about the potential within suffering in general and in slavery in particular. This is of much greater moment than the names of the Elders and even of their specific functions. The functions of the leaders, the heads and the judges of the people are spelled out. The Torah’s reticence on the function of the Elders implies that these are not of critical importance in understanding them. The significance of the Elders is to be discovered in the context of their emergence from oppression.
Depending on specific slavemasters, slavery can generate physical suffering, family breakdown, depression, resentment, despair, or some combination of these conditions. Take family breakdown. In the pre-Civil War American South, many slaves saw their parents or children sold off, never to be seen again. Take physical suffering. In the terror tunnels of Hamas, some hostages were tortured or starved to death. Slavery breaks or, at a minimum, diminishes most slaves.
But there are rare exceptions. Slavery can build compassion, fortitude and even leadership. Leaders who emerge from slavery achieve a level of fortitude and self-confidence that is beyond most everyone else. While we can admire them we cannot really relate to them. Their experience and their growth are beyond our reach. Perhaps that is why their names are omitted. It is not their individuality that makes them stand out; it is the root of their achievement and character. We can only stand in awe of people raised in cruelty who transcend its effects. At the same time, paradoxically, we are grateful not to have been subjected to the circumstances that made them greater than we can ever be.
Like the 70 Elders, we have suffering heroes of our own time, forged in the cruel captivity of Hamas.
• Eli Sharabi, 52, shackled in iron chains for 491 days, denied food and medicine, isolated, is freed only to learn that his wife and two daughters were murdered by Hamas on Oct. 7 and his brother was murdered in captivity — yet he still expresses gratitude and wonder at the small blessings of life. “Do you know what it is to open a refrigerator? To take a piece of fruit or vegetable or slice of bread? It’s an entire world.”
• Agam Berger, 20, held for 482 days, defied her captors when they instructed her to take a Koran and to cook on Shabbos, turning her positive energies to soothing the female hostages alongside her by braiding their hair; transcending her circumstances and helping others transcend theirs by summoning incredible personal strength.
• Emily Damari, 28, had her ring and middle fingers shot off by Hamas, yet she emerged from 471 days of captivity smiling and defiant. “I have fully embraced my hand, my pain and my scars. To me they represent freedom, hope and strength.” Her mutilated hand represents the shape of the hands of a kohen during the Jewish priestly blessing, according to artist Moshe Shapira, whose son was killed on Oct. 7.
These are but a few examples of living Elders in our own time. A few are 70 years of age or older; but most are like 70, distinguished by their character, not their age.
No doubt, hostages who were murdered in captivity also included Elders; but, like the original Elders, we don’t know the specifics. But we know this: Unlike ancient Biblical times, ours is a generation of more than 70 Elders.
© IJN 2025
