By Michael R. Mantell, Ph.D., in El Cajon, California
Let me begin in my own office.
For more than 50 years, I’ve sat with thousands of men and women who describe themselves with a kind of quiet shame:
–“I’m too stubborn.”
–“I dig in.”
–“I don’t let things go.
–“I’ve always been this way.”
They say it as confession. But I’ve learned to listen differently. Almost always, beneath the surface, I see something else.
Because what many people call stubbornness, for example, is often undeveloped strength. What looks like resistance is frequently unrefined resolve. The very trait they are trying to extinguish may be the one that, redirected, will save their marriage, their faith, even their life.
In Ki Sisa, after the trauma of the Golden Calf, Hashem calls us an am k’shei oref, a stiff-necked people. It sounds like an indictment. A spiritual diagnosis with a grim prognosis.
But Moshe Rabbeinu does something breathtaking and psychologically brilliant. He takes the accusation and turns it into advocacy, taking the very trait that seems to condemn us and instead uses it as a plea for compassion.
“Yes,” he essentially says. “We are stiff-necked. And that is precisely why You should remain with us.”
Moshe understood something profound about human nature: traits are rarely inherently sinful or sacred. They are energy. Direction determines destiny. The same rigidity that fuels rebellion can, with maturity, fuel covenantal loyalty. The same resistance that once rejected truth can later refuse to abandon it.
He saw beyond the moment. Beyond the failure. Beyond the Golden Calf. He saw history.
From the defenders of Masada to the hidden Jews of the Spanish Inquisition, from the inferno of The Holocaust to whispered declarations of Shema Yisrael in basements, forests, and camps, our people have been accused of many things. Spiritual surrender is not one of them.
Empires demanded assimilation. Threats demanded conversion. Terror demanded silence. We remained. Sometimes, without miracles, clarity and often without visible Divine reassurance. This is stiff-necked reframed as sacred steel.
It is no coincidence that Ki Sisa is read near Purim. In the Book of Esther, Hashem’s Name is absent. Hidden. Concealed behind palace politics and human drama. The Talmud in Chullin links Esther’s name to haster astir—“I will surely hide My face.”
There are seasons of hester panim, when Heaven feels silent. Moments when Heaven feels silent. When prayer feels unanswered. When clarity dissolves and all you are left with is choice.
It is easy to believe when Hashem feels near. It is powerful to believe when He feels hidden. When we cling to covenant without visible reassurance, that is not blind faith. That is moral resolve. That is stiff-necked holiness.
When we remain committed while feeling spiritually abandoned, we are not naïve. We are resolute. We are choosing covenant over comfort.
And this is where it becomes deeply personal.
In my work with clients, I often ask: “What if the trait you most criticize in yourself is simply misdirected strength?” That is, what if the quality we are attempting to suppress is the very one Hashem intends for us to sanctify?
Your stubbornness that once protected your ego, could it protect your values? Your resistance to change, could it become resistance to moral compromise? Stubbornness without purpose is chaos. Stubbornness aligned with Torah is courage.
Solomon reminds us in Kohelet that there is a season for everything. There is a season when stubbornness is immaturity, and a season when it is moral backbone. We are called an am segulah, a treasured nation. We are also called stiff-necked. The question is not whether we are stubborn. Perhaps our holiness lies in the fusion of the two. The question is: what are we stubborn about?
Be stiff-necked about your integrity. Be unyielding about your commitment to growth. Be obstinate about your refusal to give up on yourself. Never give up on yourself. You cannot always see your own future strength. Moshe saw in us what we could not yet see in ourselves.
The very trait that once led to failure may yet anchor your redemption. If we are to be stiff-necked, let it be in service of the covenant. And let that stubbornness carry us steadfastly toward Him.
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Michael R. Mantell, Ph.D., prepares a weekly D’var Torah for Young Israel of San Diego, where he and his family are members. They are also active members of Congregation Adat Yeshurun.