Many Jews drive to synagogue on Shabbat, believing they are fulfilling a mitzvah by attending services. They reason that praying with a minyan justifies the violation of Shabbat. After all, if the shul is far from home, how else can they participate in communal prayer?

When Am Yisrael stood in the desert without water, thirsty and afraid, they did what many of us do when trouble strikes: they turned to the nearest person and complained. "Why did you bring us here to die?" they accused Moshe and Aharon.

Many people spend years learning Torah and still remain exactly the same person they were when they started. They can tell you the stories of Avraham Avinu, Moshe Rabbeinu, and the Chachamim, but their anger, stinginess, and pride remain untouched.

"I don't know anything, I'm nothing, really nothing... but by the way, did you see my new book? I closed a thirty-million-dollar deal last week. Oh, you didn't hear? Let me tell you again."

Many people treat mussar—ethical discipline and character development—as something nice to do when they have time. They learn halachah, they study Chumash, they fulfill mitzvot, and then maybe, if there's time left over, they'll look at a mussar book.

Moshe Rabbeinu had everything. He was physically strong—seven meters tall, able to jump seven meters in the air, and still strong as a young man at 120 years old. He was extraordinarily wealthy from the broken pieces of the Luchot.