We are all familiar with the story of Moshe hitting the rock, an act for which he was punished. Less familiar, however, are the circumstances that led to Moshe's decision to strike the rock, after he was commanded to produce water by speaking to it. The background to the story is the death of Moshe's sister, the righteous prophetess Miriam, in whose merit a miraculous well provided water for Beneh Yisrael throughout the previous forty years of travel in the wilderness. This well accompanied the people, and water supernaturally flowed from it, ensuring an adequate supply of fresh water. When Miriam passed away in the final year of Beneh Yisrael's sojourn in the desert, the well dried, leaving Beneh Yisrael without water. In response to their complaints, G-d instructed Moshe to assemble the people around the rock – the rock of Miriam, which had stopped providing water – and tell it to once again produce water. Rashi (20:10) explains that after Moshe assembled the people, they argued with him, asking why he needed to produce water specifically from this rock. Surely, Hashem was capable of providing water from a different rock. They pointed to another rock, whereupon Moshe and Aharon exclaimed, "Can we extract water from this rock?!" Moshe then struck it several times, and, sure enough, water began to flow. Why did the people challenge Moshe to produce water from a different rock? Why were they not content with having Miriam's well resume its production of water? The answer is that the people thought that extracting water from a different rock would create a greater Kiddush Hashem (glorification of G-d's Name). After forty years, water flowing from Miriam's rock was no longer considered special or miraculous. Certainly, they figured, G-d's glory would be manifested much more dramatically if water was produced from a different rock. The people's motivations, then, were sincere, but they were still wrong – for the simple reason that G-d had commanded Moshe to produce water from this particular stone. Why He chose specifically this rock was not for them – or for us – to understand. They were to faithfully and humbly abide by His commands even when they did not grasp their logic, and even when different options seemed more rational. This perhaps explains the connection between this story and the preceding section in the Torah – the law of the Para Aduma ("red heifer"). This command is commonly regarded as the quintessential "Hok" – Misva whose rationale eludes our comprehension. There is no logical explanation for why slaughtering a perfectly red cow, and then burning its ashes, mixing it with water, and sprinkling the mixture on people who had become impure, should have any meaning or significance. But the Torah commands that we prepare this mixture, and that people who had come in contact with a corpse have this water sprinkled on them before they enter the Bet Ha'mikdash or eat the meat of sacrifices. This Misva, more than any other, exemplifies the notion of faithful subordination to the divine will, of obedience to Hashem's commands against our logical understanding. For good reason, then, the Torah juxtaposed the Misva of Para Aduma and the story of Moshe and the rock – because both underscore the message of surrendering our logic and reason to the will of Hashem. The lesson of this Parasha is that we must not try to be "too smart." The Torah promises that observing Shabbat brings material prosperity – even though logic dictates that working an extra day every week increases profits. We must not try to "outsmart" the Torah by thinking that keeping the business open on Shabbat will lead to greater earnings. Some mothers encourage their marriage-age daughters to stop following the requirements of modest dress to increase their chances of finding a husband. They figure that since marriage is a Misva, the right thing to do is to dress this way so they can fulfill this Misva. But this is incorrect. When G-d tells us to do something or not to do something, we need to obey even if we can come up with logical reasons not to. The intellect is a precious gift that Hashem granted us for the purpose of learning, building and achieving. At the same time, however, He demands that we suspend our logic when necessary to show our humble subservience to Him and to His will.