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Moses Asked Only to See the Land He Could Not Enter

The river was already closed to Moses. He argued like a servant who loves his master and will not go free. God still said no.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. He Pressed His Ear to the Post
  2. The Prayer That Worked for Everyone Else
  3. He Asked Only to Look
  4. What God Showed Him From the Mountain

Moses put his case the way a servant puts his ear to a doorpost. The law was already in his mouth. If a Hebrew servant loves his master, his wife, and his children, and will not go free, the master brings him to the judges, and he serves forever. Moses said he was that servant. Pierce the ear. Keep me. Only let me cross the Jordan.

Moses Asked Only to See the Land He Could Not Enter Click for full size

God said no. The decree stood. Die in the mount whither thou goest up (Deuteronomy 32:50).

He Pressed His Ear to the Post

He did not stop talking. He named Leviathan. "Thou didst call me, as well as Leviathan, thy servant. I sent up prayers, and he sent up prayers, and him didst Thou answer. Thou madest a covenant with him that Thou keepest. The covenant that Thou madest with me Thou breakest."

The sea monster had a promise that held. The man who had carried the tablets down Sinai did not. Moses lined his own name up against a creature God had sworn not to abandon, and asked why the smaller servant got less.

He said God was not a judge of flesh and blood, who grants a prayer and then has to take it back when a superior walks in. "Where on earth or in heaven is there one so mighty that he can do such deed as Thine in Egypt, or who can perform such mighty deeds as Thou didst at the Red Sea?"

The answer did not change. God kept listening.

The Prayer That Worked for Everyone Else

Moses asked that mercy go first, before justice, because he knew the other order well. "There is no mercy in justice." God had told him once, when Moses asked how the world was run, "I owe nothing to any creature, and what I do for them is a free gift." So Moses asked for a free gift. He said God Himself had pointed at prayer as the way to cancel a punishment already laid down.

He brought the calf into the argument. When Israel made it, God had said, "Let Me alone, that I may destroy them, and blot out their name from under heaven" (Deuteronomy 9:14). Moses had heard that "Let Me" as a door left open. Who can hold God back, that He should say "Let Me"? He prayed. He was answered. The people lived.

"The prayer of the one for the many was answered," Moses said. "The prayer of the many for the one is not." He had called Israel rebels. He admitted it. He also said he had only used God's own word. God had called them the sons of rebellion first.

None of it moved the decree. The mountain was still going to take him.

He Asked Only to Look

When Moses understood that his feet would not touch the promised land, he changed the ask. He did not plead to set a heel in the dust. He asked to see it.

"Let me go over, I pray Thee, and see the good land that is beyond Jordan, that goodly mountain, and Lebanon" (Deuteronomy 3:25). He named Jerusalem. He named the Temple. He wanted the country the spies had slandered and he had praised, and he wanted it with his own eyes before those eyes shut.

God took him up. Not across. Up.

What God Showed Him From the Mountain

From the summit of Pisgah, opposite Jericho, God showed him Gilead as far as Dan, all Naphtali, the land of Ephraim and Manasseh, all Judah to the western sea, the Negev, and the plain of the valley of Jericho, the city of palm trees, as far as Zoar (Deuteronomy 34:1-3).

Moses looked. He looked at tribal borders that had not been walked yet. He looked at a Temple that had not been built. He looked at a river he would not cross, bright under the same sun that was about to close his life.

Then he died there, on the mountain, facing the land, having seen it whole, having never stepped on it.

PrayerMosesPromised LandJerusalemTempleLeviathanDeuteronomy
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From the tradition

Sources

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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.

Legends of the Jews 6:125Legends 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

It’s a scene filled with both profound faith and heartbreaking resignation.

Moses, having led the Israelites through unimaginable trials, stands on the precipice of the Promised Land. Yet, he knows he won't be allowed to enter. Why? Because of an incident where he struck a rock to bring forth water, an act interpreted as a lack of faith in God's command (Numbers 20:1-13). He's told he will die before crossing the Jordan.

What does Moses do? He pleads. Oh, does he plead.

in the story in Legends of the Jews, Moses reminds God of a shared experience. "Thou didst call me, as well as Leviathan, thy servant." He points out that both he and Leviathan – that mythical sea monster, a symbol of primal power – offered prayers to God. The Zohar tells us that Leviathan is a powerful primordial being, and God made a covenant with him. And here's the crux of Moses's argument: "…him didst Thou answer, for Thou madest a covenant with him that Thou keepest, but the covenant that Thou madest with me Thou breakest." Ouch.

He reminds God of His own Torah. He references the law concerning a servant who loves his master so much that he chooses to remain in servitude forever. He says, "In the Torah Thy words are: 'If the servant shall plainly say, I love my master, my wife, and my children; I will not go out free: then his master shall bring him unto the judges; and he shall serve him for ever.'" (Exodus 21:5-6). Moses is saying, “I am YOUR servant! I choose to serve you!”

Moses then appeals to God’s unique position. He isn’t a human judge bound by earthly constraints. "Thou are not in the position of a judge of flesh and blood who, when granting a prayer, has to consider that he may be compelled by his superior to repeal his answer." God, he argues, is all-powerful. He performed miracles in Egypt and at the Red Sea. "…where on earth or in heaven is there one so mighty that he can do such deed as Thine in Egypt, or who can perform such mighty deeds as Thou didst at the Red Sea?"

The core of Moses's prayer, his deepest longing, is revealed: "I pray Thee, therefore, let me behold the land that, in spite of the slander of the spies, I praised, and Jerusalem and the Temple also." He wants to see the culmination of his life's work, the fulfillment of the promise he helped secure for his people. He wants to see Yerushalayim and the Beit Hamikdash (the Holy Temple in Jerusalem) – Jerusalem and the Holy Temple.

This story, drawn from the tradition of Jewish legend, isn't just about a biblical figure. It's about faith, disappointment, and the courage to plead even when the answer seems predetermined. It's about wrestling with divine decrees and daring to ask, "Why?" Even Moses, the greatest prophet, experienced this very human struggle.

What does this story tell us about our own struggles? How do we reconcile faith with unanswered prayers? Perhaps the lesson lies not in the answer received, but in the act of asking itself. In the continued devotion even when faced with what feels like divine contradiction.

Full source
Legends of the Jews 6:124Legends 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

Legends of the Jews turns to Moses Pleads for Mercy to Overcome Divine Justice.

He continues, reminding God of a fundamental truth: "Thou Thyself didst tell me when I asked Thee how Thou didst conduct the world, 'I owe nothing to any creature, and what I do for them is a free gift on My part.'" In other words, everything we receive, every kindness, every moment of grace, is just that – a gift. Not something earned, not something owed. And on that basis, he asks for another free gift: the granting of his prayer.

It’s a masterclass in persuasive prayer, appealing to God’s own self-revelation. But the argument doesn't stop there.

He then reminds God of a specific instance, a pivotal moment in Jewish history: the sin of the Golden Calf. Remember that? When the Israelites, impatient for Moses's return from Mount Sinai, fashioned a golden idol and worshipped it (Exodus 32).

in the story, God, in His anger, declared, "Let Me alone, that I may destroy them, and blot out their name from under heaven" (Deuteronomy 9:14). It seems pretty straightforward. Divine decree. End of story.

But our speaker saw something else entirely. He understood that God’s words, "Let Me alone," weren't a command, but an invitation. "Who can restrain God, that He should say, 'Let Me?' It is plain that He desires me to pray for His children." He saw it as a divine prompting, a call to intercede. And he did. He prayed, and his prayer was answered.

The prayer was effective, but the speaker contrasts it with a different situation. "The prayer of the individual for the community was answered, but not so the prayer of the community for the one individual!" Why the discrepancy? What could account for this difference in outcome?

He wonders aloud if his choice of words – calling Israel "rebels" – might be the reason. But then he immediately deflects that notion, pointing out, "But in this I only followed Thy example, for Thou too didst call them, 'the sons of rebellion.'" He’s saying, "I’m just using the language you yourself used! How can you hold that against me?"

It leaves us pondering the nature of prayer, divine justice, and the delicate dance between human agency and divine will. It’s not a simple equation, is it?

This passage raises so many questions. What does it really mean to say that God "desires" us to pray? Does God change His mind based on our petitions? And what role does our language, our choice of words, play in the efficacy of our prayers?

Perhaps the most profound takeaway is the idea that even divine justice can be tempered by mercy, and that our prayers, our heartfelt pleas, can actually make a difference in the world. It’s a powerful and humbling thought.

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