The story begins with a child of destiny, born into a world on the brink of catastrophe. His parents, recognizing the imminent doom, make an agonizing choice: they place their infant son into a vessel and send him away, hoping he will survive and perhaps even thrive in a foreign land. The child arrives in this new world powerless and vulnerable, discovered by strangers who take him in and raise him as their own. Under their care, he grows to become a figure of extraordinary capability—someone who could, if he chose, dominate all those around him, impose his will on entire populations, command whatever he desires. Yet he does not. Instead, he becomes a champion of justice, a defender of the oppressed, a force for good in a world desperately in need of heroes.

Of course, I'm speaking of Superman.

Or am I speaking of Moses?

The parallels are striking, and they illuminate something profound about both narratives. This week's parashah, Shemot, introduces us to Moses through a story that resonates deeply with the Superman mythology. Like the infant from Krypton, Moses is placed in an ark by parents seeking to save him from certain death. Like Superman, he is discovered and adopted, raised in a context far removed from his birth origins. And like Superman, Moses becomes someone wielding tremendous power—able to split seas, bring forth water from rocks, commune directly with God Himself.

But the true parallel lies not in their powers, but in their choices—and in what shaped those choices.

The Power That Really Matters

Superheroes are as popular now as they ever have been, if not more so, and to many, the imagery of Superman in particular is that of power, of fantastic proportions. He is, for lack of a more varied term, simply a superhuman, imbued with abilities "far beyond those of mortal man." Once described as "faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound," he was soon bestowed with powers far exceeding those; he could soar deep into space, start fires with a glance, see through walls, crush stones into diamonds, and in some incarnations, even turn back time. His abilities are seemingly without limit, and have caused countless youths to wish that like him, they could fly above the earth.

But the Superman story was never about power. It was always about the impact of a strong, foundational value system, how that is painstakingly and unwaveringly conveyed by those with human vision rather than super vision, and how that is felt in every step, in every decision, in every mission, taken by those who do have the power.

The story of Superman is the story of a being with such incredible power, he could choose to conquer the Earth, to enslave all its people, to seize all its riches for himself. The fact that he does not do so, that he in fact does the opposite, is due to two people: Jonathan and Martha Kent. Like Moses, the infant Kryptonian was placed in an ark and sent afloat for his own protection, and discovered and adopted. But unlike Moses, he was adopted into a context of pure inspiration and moral responsibility. He was adopted by simple people, committed to work, morality, and service, who instilled within him "truth, justice, and the American way." Infused with gratitude, respect, and responsibility, the most powerful being on Earth becomes not a despot but a hero.

The Hebrew Word for This Power

There is a Hebrew word we use for this transformative influence: chinuch. We typically translate it as "education," but it is actually broader, connoting also preparation and dedication. It evokes a truly awesome power—not to fly or to lift unfathomable weights, but to mold the soul of another through the focused love of a committed parent or the impassioned care of a devoted teacher. It is both the ability and the responsibility to impart, through instruction and modeling, a system of beliefs and morals so effectively that another person will adopt it as their own, do their utmost to honor it with their lives, and seek to pass it on to others.

The inspiration that Superman receives is carried through him to others, in fantasy and in reality as well, and therein lies its enduring value. The 2012 book Superman Versus the Ku Klux Klan is actually a true story of the influence of fiction on real-world awareness and activism, and the work of artist Neal Adams and Holocaust scholar Rafael Medoff on the volume We Spoke Out detailed the efforts of comic book creators to educate on the horrors of the Holocaust through the tools of their iconic characters. Perhaps these seem like relics of a time when superheroes were heroes, rather than antiheroes or complex literary studies; perhaps such a time can still be now.

The Question That Distinguishes Them

If chinuch—the parental household influence—is so powerful, why did Superman embrace the values of his adoptive family while Moses did not? Why did Moses, raised in Pharaoh's palace with every luxury and advantage, reject the value system of his adoptive grandfather and instead identify with the oppressed Hebrew slaves?

A clue may lie in a remarkable Talmudic passage that relates that had the Torah not been given, we would have learned "modesty from the cat, and avoiding stealing from the ant," along with other such lessons (Eiruvin 100b). A glaring question presents itself: Animals have all kinds of attributes, many of them clearly not worthy of imitation. How would we know, simply by observing their behavior, what traits to emulate?

Years ago, I posed this question to Rabbi Mendel Blachman, who offered a profound insight: the point was not simply that we would imitate whatever we observe. Rather, we are impressed by acts of tzimtzum, of contraction—when a creature works against natural instincts with restraint, that makes an impact. We learn most from those animals who stand up against the easy path.

So it is with children. Yes, they imitate what they see. But they are transformed when they witness the strength to choose one's own path and not be controlled by the environment, to deliberately choose a value system and ethic. The Kents were influential in a way Pharaoh could never be. The Kents lived their values with integrity and self-restraint, modeling a moral life not of power and privilege but of service and sacrifice. Pharaoh's palace, for all its grandeur, represented only self-indulgence and the exploitation of others.

Moses saw through the facade. He witnessed the contrast between the luxury of the palace and the suffering of the slaves, and he made a choice—the same kind of choice Superman makes every day, to use his power not for self-aggrandizement but for justice.

Meanwhile, Moses was exposed to sacrifice—perhaps before he was even fully able to appreciate it. He witnessed a mother and a sister who risked everything to contribute to his care and nourishment, and later, an enslaved nation that strove to maintain its identity despite increasing persecution. These are models capable of inspiration and of instilling an awareness that endures.

The Work of Chinuch

That chinuch, that amalgamation of education and preparation and dedication, is the task of parents and of teachers, and more broadly of society as a whole, actualizing and transmitting the vision of idealistic founders. It is the work of God Himself, modeled in the way He educates His people through the Torah. God has many messengers in many forms to transmit His values and to harness human powers toward them.

In a world where power—whether physical, political, or financial—can so easily corrupt, the stories of both Moses and Superman remind us that what matters most is not the power itself, but the values that guide its use. What separates the hero from the tyrant is not capability but character, and character is forged in the crucible of chinuch.

As we begin the book of Shemot this week, reading of Moses's miraculous rescue and extraordinary destiny, we might remember that his greatness was not predetermined by his abilities. It was shaped by the choices he witnessed, the values he absorbed, and ultimately, the path he chose to walk. That is the enduring message of both Moses and Superman—and the sacred responsibility of all who would seek to lead, to change the world, and, most importantly, to show a path.