6 min read

Dying of Thirst, Israel Still Worried About Their Animals

Moses and Aaron were sitting with their sister's body when God told them to get up. My children are dying of thirst, He said, and you mourn an old woman.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Water Ran Out
  2. Get Up, You Are Mourning an Old Woman
  3. What Heaven Counted in the Shouting
  4. Of Seventy Nations, Only This One
  5. Speak to the Rock
Dying of Thirst, Israel Still Worried About Their Animals Click for full size

The Water Ran Out

Miriam died at Kadesh and they buried her there, and the water gave out right after.

The camp came for her brothers. Not a delegation. A crowd, pressing up against the entrance of the Tent of Meeting with the noise a crowd makes when the children have stopped sweating and the goats have started going down at the knees. Why did you drag us out here. Why did you bring the assembly of the Lord into this desert. There is no grain, no figs, no vines, no pomegranates, and there is no water to drink, and we are going to die here, we and our animals with us.

Moses did not answer them. Neither did Aaron. The two of them turned and went for the sanctuary, partly to beg and partly because a man who has just been surrounded by a mob of that size takes shelter in the one place they will not follow him into.

Get Up, You Are Mourning an Old Woman

God met them at the door before they had finished falling on their faces.

"Get out of here," He said. "My children are dying of thirst and the two of you have nothing better to do than sit and mourn an old woman."

It was their sister they were mourning. She had watched the basket in the reeds when one of them was three months old. She had gone out in front of the women at the sea with a tambourine in her hand. She was newly dead, and heaven had already moved past the funeral to the six hundred thousand outside who had nothing to drink.

What Heaven Counted in the Shouting

Nobody upstairs was keeping a record of what the camp had screamed. A man is not held to account for what comes out of his mouth in extremity, and neither Moses nor Aaron had said a word back, and no charge was entered against anyone for the noise at the Tent door.

What was noticed was a phrase inside the complaint. They had not shouted that they were dying. They had shouted that they and their cattle were dying. Men that close to the end were still doing the arithmetic for the animals in their care, and a righteous man knows the life of his beast, and heaven made a note of who these people were.

They were not easy to defend otherwise. All through those years they had gone on building private altars, each household's firstborn son slaughtering on his own stones out behind the tents, the way it had been done before the Tabernacle stood. It was forbidden by then. They kept doing it and they were struck for it, and the nations watching from the edges of the wilderness enjoyed themselves. Look, they said, they worship in His name and He kills them for it. So the order came down through Moses: any man of Israel who slaughters and does not bring it to the entrance of the Tent of Meeting, that man is cut off. Bring it here. Bring all of it here, where it can be done without getting you killed.

Of Seventy Nations, Only This One

Moses had asked about them once, and he had not asked politely.

"Master of the universe. You have seventy nations in Your world. Every order You give me is about this one. Command the children of Israel. Speak to the children of Israel. Say to the children of Israel."

The answer came back as a story about a king with a wardrobe. There was one undergarment he kept after his servant about. Fold it. Shake it out. Watch that one.

"My lord the king," the servant said, "you own a great many. You give me instructions about this one only."

"Because that is the one I wear against my skin."

Others told it differently. A king with one robe he keeps naming, because it is the robe he had on the day they crowned him, and Israel had crowned Him first, standing in the wet sand with the chariots gone under, singing that the Lord would reign forever. Or an elder with one kerchief he will not let the students handle carelessly, because it is the one he wore the day they made him an elder, and Israel had made Him theirs at Sinai, answering that everything the Lord had spoken they would do and they would hear.

As a belt clings around a man's waist, He told the prophet, so I fastened the whole house of Israel to Myself.

Speak to the Rock

The instructions for the water were oddly specific.

Speak to the rock. Do not strike it. Bring out water and only water, not oil, not honey, because anyone can argue that oil was already inside the stone, and no one can argue that about water that never was.

And the reason the stone would give at all had nothing to do with the men shouting outside. It was owed to the patriarchs asleep in the cave at Machpelah, whose merit was enough to put water in the mouths of their descendants in a desert generations down the road.

Moses came out of the Tent with his staff in his hand and the whole assembly waiting in the sun.

IsraelWildernessCovenantSacrificeMoses
← All myths

From the tradition

Sources

3 sources

The texts behind this telling. Some cards carry a translation of the source; others are our own retelling of it, and each card says which. Every card links out to the original.

Vayikra Rabbah 2:4Vayikra Rabbah

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Sefaria Midrash Rabbah, 2022 · CC-BY

The verse “Speak to the children of Israel” (Leviticus) becomes the launching point for a fascinating discussion. Rabbi Yudan, citing Rabbi Yishmael bar Naḥman, presents a parable: Imagine a king with many garments, but one inner garment he বিশেষভাবে instructs his servant to care for. The servant naturally asks, "Why this one, above all others?" The king replies, "Because I wear it closest to my body."

Isn't that a powerful image? Moses, in this interpretation, voices a similar question to God. "Master of the universe," he asks, "of all the nations, why focus so intently on Israel? 'Command the children of Israel,' 'speak to the children of Israel,' 'say to the children of Israel' – why such specific direction?" And God's answer, echoing the parable, is that Israel is "attached to Me," intimately connected. As (Jeremiah 13:11) puts it, "For just as the belt cleaves to the waist of a man, so I have attached to Me the entire house of Israel."

Rabbi Avin offers another perspective, another parable. This time, the king singles out a royal garment, the one he wore on his coronation day. Again, the servant questions the special treatment, and the king reveals its significance: it represents the moment he was crowned. Applied to the relationship between God and Israel, Moses again asks why the intense focus. God replies that it was Israel who first crowned Him at the sea, declaring, “The Lord will reign for ever and ever!” (Exodus 15:18). It's a beautiful image of mutual recognition and acceptance.

Rabbi Berekhya adds yet another layer. He speaks of an elder, a respected scholar, and a kerchief – a sudra, perhaps a head covering signifying his wisdom. He instructs his disciple to carefully tend to it. The disciple, again, asks why this particular kerchief. The elder explains it's the one he wore when he was appointed elder, a symbol of his authority and responsibility. Similarly, Moses asks why the focus on Israel, and God responds that it was Israel who accepted His kingdom at Sinai, proclaiming, "Everything that the Lord has spoken we will perform and we will heed" (Exodus 24:7). This acceptance, this commitment, forged a unique bond.

These aren't just stories; they're profound insights into the nature of responsibility and relationship. They suggest that being chosen, being close, isn't a privilege without obligation. It means a greater commitment to upholding the values and the relationship itself.

Finally, Rabbi Yudan marvels at the depth of God's love for Israel, pointing to (Numbers 8:19). In that single verse, the phrase "children of Israel" appears five times! "I have given the Levites, given [to Aaron and to his sons from among the children of Israel, to perform the service of the children of Israel in the Tent of Meeting, and to atone for the children of Israel, and there shall not be a stroke against the children of Israel, when the children of Israel approach the Sanctuary]." It’s a powerful repetition, emphasizing the constant presence and concern.

So, what does this all mean for us? Perhaps it's a reminder that special relationships, whether with people, communities, or even ideals, demand special care. The closer we are, the more is expected. It's a challenging, but ultimately rewarding, dynamic. It pushes us to live up to the potential within ourselves and within our connections. It makes you wonder: what "garment" are you being asked to care for? What commitment are you being called to honor?

Full source
Legends of the Jews 5:39Legends of the Jews

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Legends of the Jews by Louis Ginzberg (1909) · Public Domain

The scene is set during a time of desperate thirst. The people, parched and weary, have turned on Moses and Aaron, their leaders. But amidst their anger and despair, there's a glimmer of something truly remarkable. The text notes, "'A righteous man regardeth the life of his beast,'" and even in their own near-death experience, these people are concerned for the suffering of their animals. This detail, small as it may seem, reveals their fundamental piety, their inherent goodness. Despite their harsh words toward Moses and Aaron, they remain, at their core, righteous.

Here's a fascinating insight: the verse says, God doesn't even hold them accountable for their angry words towards Moses and Aaron. Why? Because, "God holds no man accountable for that which he utters in distress." It’s a powerful reminder of compassion, a recognition that in moments of extreme duress, we may say things we don't truly mean. Moses and Aaron understand this implicitly. They don't respond to the accusations. Instead, they rush to the Mishkan, the sanctuary, to plead for God's mercy on behalf of the people. They even seek refuge there, fearing the people might turn violent.

Then, God appears. And what does He say? It's not what you might expect. He doesn't rebuke the people for their lack of faith. He says, "Hasten from this place; My children die of thirst, and ye have nothing better to do than to mourn the death of an old woman!" The urgency in His voice is palpable. Get moving! People are suffering!

He then instructs Moses to speak to the rock, not strike it, so that it may bring forth water. Why? Because, the text explains, God wants to prove His power. He can bring forth not just liquids that might naturally be found within a rock, but water, something completely foreign to it. This miracle would be evidence of His absolute authority.

God commands Moses to only bring forth water. He is not to bring forth honey or oil. This detail emphasizes the specific nature of the miracle: it is about quenching thirst, about providing the essential element needed for survival.

And why speak to the rock instead of striking it? "For," God says, "the merits of them that sleep in the Cave of Machpelah suffice to cause their children to receive water out of the rock." The Cave of Machpelah, in Hebron, is believed to be the burial place of the patriarchs and matriarchs – Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, Rebecca, Jacob, and Leah. Their righteousness, their zechut, is so powerful that it can bring forth water from a stone. Their merit alone is enough.

What does this story tell us? Perhaps it's a reminder that even in our darkest moments, when we're lashing out in pain and frustration, there's still a spark of goodness within us. Perhaps it's a lesson in compassion, both for ourselves and for others. And perhaps it's evidence of the enduring power of righteousness, a power that can literally move mountains. or, in this case, bring water from a rock.

Full source
Vayikra Rabbah 22:5Vayikra Rabbah

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Sefaria Midrash Rabbah, 2022 · CC-BY

There was a lot of… well, let's call it "divine growing pains."

The Vayikra Rabbah, a fascinating collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Leviticus, gives us a glimpse into one of those growing pains. It tells us about a time when the Israelites were, shall we say, a little too enthusiastic with their sacrifices.

Rabbi Ḥama bar Pappa, quoting Rabbi Yehuda ben Rabbi Simon, paints a picture of the Israelites sacrificing offerings on what were essentially unauthorized, private altars in the wilderness. Think of it like setting up your own makeshift temple in your backyard – before there's an actual, sanctioned place of worship.

In Mishna Zevachim, (14:4), before the Mishkan, the Tabernacle, was built, this was perfectly acceptable! Private altars were permitted, and the firstborn sons of each family were the ones who led the services. Kind of a cool, decentralized system. But everything changed once the Tabernacle was established. Suddenly, those private altars were a no-no. Only the designated priests could perform the sacrifices, and only in the proper place. But, human nature being what it is, some Israelites kept doing things the old way.

And that's where things got tricky. The Vayikra Rabbah tells us that they continued to violate the prohibition of the private altar, and, as a result, punishments befell them. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

Imagine the scene: here are the Israelites, newly freed from slavery, trying to connect with God, but instead, they're facing divine repercussions. What kind of message does that send?

And that's precisely what worried the other nations! They saw the Israelites worshipping in God's name, but then suffering. "They worship in His name and He kills them," they’d say, according to the Vayikra Rabbah. Ouch. Not exactly the best PR for a fledgling nation trying to establish its relationship with its God.

So, what did God do? He spoke to Moses. "Go and tell them," He commanded, "Any man of the house of Israel who slaughters a bull or sheep… and to the entrance of the Tent of Meeting he did not bring it… that man shall be cut off from among his people" (Leviticus 17:3–4).

Essentially, God was saying, "Okay, people, enough is enough. All sacrifices, even of non-sacred animals, need to be brought to the Tabernacle." As the commentators explain, this wasn't just about following rules; it was about preventing the Israelites from slaughtering consecrated animals outside the Tabernacle. It was about centralizing worship and ensuring that sacrifices were performed correctly, with the proper intention and under the right authority. It was about avoiding those awkward, and potentially dangerous, backyard temple moments.

It’s a fascinating look into the challenges of establishing a new religious order. It wasn't just about building a Tabernacle; it was about changing hearts and minds, and about teaching a people how to properly connect with the Divine. What does this tell us about our own spiritual journeys? And maybe, just maybe, it’s a reminder that sometimes, rules are there for a reason, even if we don't always understand them right away.

Full source