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What Moses Showed Joshua on His Last Day Alive

Before Moses died, God showed him far more than the land. He showed Moses every leader Israel would ever have, all the way to the resurrection of the dead.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Mountain Gave Him Everything
  2. The Whole of History Unrolled Like a Scroll
  3. When Israel Refused to Come Forward
  4. What Moses Saw Differently in Each Leader
  5. The Land Is Higher Than All Others

The Mountain Gave Him Everything

The familiar version of Moses's death is a tragedy of proximity. He climbed Mount Nebo, looked out over the land he had spent forty years leading Israel toward, saw it spread before him with all its hills and rivers and coastlines, and died without crossing the Jordan. The rabbis understood the impulse to read it as denial. They rejected the reading.

What God showed Moses on that mountain was not a consolation prize. It was a completion.

The Whole of History Unrolled Like a Scroll

Legends of the Jews, Louis Ginzberg's compilation of rabbinic and pseudepigraphic tradition published from 1909 to 1938, preserves an account of what the divine vision on Nebo actually contained. Moses saw the land of Canaan. He also saw every judge and prophet who would arise after him, in order, named and visible. He saw every king from the first to the last. Joshua stood beside him, already prepared to receive the command that Moses was about to lay down. Moses saw Solomon building the Temple. He saw the exile and the return. The tradition says he saw all the way to the resurrection of the dead.

This changes the nature of the moment entirely. Moses was not being denied a view. He was being given a panoramic account of everything he had worked toward. Every argument he had made before God, every time he had thrown himself between divine wrath and the people's failure, every commandment transmitted, every generation trained in the wilderness, all of it resolved into a single vision that ran from the moment he was standing in to the end of time. He died not in frustration but in full knowledge that the project was completed, even though he would not live to see most of it unfold.

When Israel Refused to Come Forward

The transition of command from Moses to Joshua did not go smoothly on the human side. Legends of the Jews records that when a herald summoned the people to gather around Joshua, not a single Israelite came willingly. They stood back, trembling, inventing ailments. They quoted Ecclesiastes: Woe to thee, O land, when thy king is a child (Ecclesiastes 10:16). They wept over losing Moses and were not ready to accept what came after him.

Then a voice from heaven spoke (Hosea 11:1): When Israel was a child, then I loved him. The divine response to the people's hesitation was not impatience. It was a reminder that God's attachment to Israel began when Israel was exactly what it appeared to be at that moment: young, frightened, and not ready for what was being asked of it. The reluctance was not a disqualification. It was the condition that had always obtained when God chose to work through this particular people.

What Moses Saw Differently in Each Leader

The vision on Nebo had a specific theological content that Legends of the Jews preserves. God showed Moses each future leader and explained something about that leader's relationship to the knowledge Moses himself possessed. Each of them, from Joshua to Othniel and beyond, would possess their own unique spirit and their own understanding. They would be individuals, each gifted differently, each suited to the moment they inhabited.

But there was a catch. The tradition records that Moses saw something in this succession that troubled him. Each leader had their own spirit. No single leader after Moses would carry the full comprehension that Moses himself had been given access to, the direct, unmediated knowledge that came from speaking with God face to face. The prophetic tradition after Moses would be constituted by many different partial understandings rather than by one complete one. The rabbis took this not as a demotion of the tradition but as evidence of its vitality: what Moses carried was too large for any single successor. It required the entire rabbinic tradition, spread across centuries, to hold it.

The Land Is Higher Than All Others

Sifrei Devarim, the tannaitic legal midrash on Deuteronomy compiled in the second or third century CE, attends to the language of entering the land. The Hebrew uses a verb that means going up, not going in. Caleb says let us go up and inherit it (Numbers 13:30). The spies say they went up and spied out the land. Even the account of leaving Egypt uses the same verb: they went up from Egypt (Genesis 45:25). The land of Israel, Sifrei argues, is literally higher than all other lands. The physical geography encodes the theological priority: entering the land is always an ascent. Moses on Nebo was not looking down at his destination. He was looking across at something elevated.


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The texts this telling draws on, in full. Open a card to read inline, or expand it for a wider, quieter read.

Legends of the Jews 6:86Legends of the Jews

Moses, our great leader, actually got a glimpse of that.

In Legends of the Jews, a collection of stories compiled by Rabbi Louis Ginzberg, Moses had a special request of God. He wanted to know who would follow him, who would lead the Israelites after he was gone.

God, in His infinite generosity, didn't just name Joshua as the successor. He showed Moses a panoramic view of the future – all the judges and prophets who would guide the Jewish people, all the way to the resurrection of the dead. Can you imagine the scope of that vision?

There was a catch, a profound and somewhat bittersweet revelation. God explained that each of these leaders, from Joshua to Othniel and beyond, would possess their own unique spirit and knowledge. They would be individuals, each gifted in their own way.

However, God added, "Of all these that I have shown thee, each will have his individual spirit and his individual knowledge, but such a man as thou now wishest for thy successor, whose spirit is to embrace in itself the spirits of sixty myriads of Israel, so that he may speak to each one of them according to his understanding, such a man as this will not arise until the end of time."

Moses was asking for a leader who could connect with every single Israelite, understand their individual needs, and speak to them on their level. A leader whose spirit encompassed the entire nation. And God’s answer? That kind of leader wouldn’t appear until the very end of days.

Think about the weight of that statement. It speaks to the immense challenge of leadership, of truly understanding and connecting with a diverse community. It highlights the limitations of even the most gifted individuals.

And then comes the promise, the glimmer of hope: "The Messiah will be inspired with a spirit that in itself will embrace the spirits of all mankind."

The Messiah, the ultimate leader, the one who will finally embody that all-encompassing spirit. A spirit capable of understanding and connecting with everyone. It's a powerful vision, isn't it?

This passage, found in Ginzberg’s Legends of the Jews, isn't just about prophecy. It's about the nature of leadership, the yearning for connection, and the ultimate hope for a future where understanding and empathy prevail. It leaves you pondering: what does it truly mean to connect with one another? And what kind of spirit do we need to cultivate within ourselves to bring that future closer?

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Legends of the Jews 6:156Legends of the Jews

When a herald summoned the people to Joshua, not a single Israelite came willingly. Instead of rushing forward, fear gripped the people. They started trembling, shaking, suddenly afflicted with phantom headaches! Anything to avoid what was coming. Each one lamented, weeping, "Woe to thee, O land, when thy king is a child!" It's a direct quote from Ecclesiastes (10:16), a cry of despair when leadership seems weak or inexperienced.

Then. something extraordinary happened. A voice from heaven thundered, a divine response cutting through the fear and doubt. "When Israel was a child, then I loved him," the voice proclaimed. This is a powerful echo from (Hosea 11:1), a reminder of God's enduring love and connection to the people of Israel, even in their infancy, even when they're acting up.

The Earth itself responded! Opening its mouth, the Earth declared, "I have been young, and now am old, yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken." This is a beautiful nod to (Psalm 37:25), a evidence of the enduring promise that those who follow the path of righteousness will ultimately be supported and sustained. It's as if the very foundations of the world were reassuring them.

So, if the people were so hesitant, who did answer the call? While the masses were busy feigning illness, the elders of Israel stepped up – the leaders of the troops, the princes of the tribes, the captains of thousands, of hundreds, and of tens. They understood the gravity of the situation. They appeared at Joshua's tent, ready to serve. Moses, in his final act of leadership, assigned to each his place according to his rank, ensuring order and structure in this pivotal moment.

What does it tell us, this little snapshot of a moment in Jewish history? Perhaps it's a reminder that leadership isn't just about the person at the top, but also about the willingness of others to step forward, to lead, and to serve. And maybe, just maybe, it's a comforting thought that even when we're feeling hesitant and afraid, there's a voice, a promise, a foundation of love and support that we can always rely on.

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Bamidbar Rabbah 16:1Bamidbar Rabbah

What does sailing have to do with spies? Well, stick with me. The Rabbis debated this, concluding you shouldn't set out on a long voyage so close to the Sabbath. But, there's always a "but" in Jewish law! If the journey is short (like from Tyre to Sidon), or, crucially, if it's for a mitzva, a commandment, then you're good to go. In fact, if it's for a mitzva, you can sail any day. Why? Because fulfilling a commandment overrides even the Sabbath. As Sifrei Shofetim 203 points out, someone on a mitzva is exempt from certain obligations, like dwelling in a sukka (booth) during Sukkot (the Festival of Tabernacles).

That brings us back to our spies.

The text emphasizes that nothing is as precious to God as someone devoted to fulfilling a mission. To illustrate this, Bamidbar Rabbah draws a comparison, a striking one, to the spies sent by JoshuaPinḥas and Caleb. Remember them? These weren't just any spies; they were dedicated, risking their lives for the mission. (Joshua 2:1) tells us, "Joshua son of Nun dispatched from Shittim two [men]…". Our Rabbis identify them as Pinḥas and Caleb, and their actions are painted in stark contrast to the spies of Moses.

How dedicated were they? The text gets wonderfully specific. They went "covertly" – heresh (חרש) in Hebrew. But the Rabbis play with the word, suggesting we read it as heres (חרס) – "clay." They pretended to be potters! Can you imagine? Shouting, "Here are pots! Come buy!" just to blend in. They even went to the house of Rahav, a… let's just say "woman of ill repute," in Jericho (Joshua 2:1). She sheltered them, even when the King of Jericho came looking.

Here's where it gets really interesting. Pinḥas, being a priest (a kohen (a priest)), declared to Rahav that he didn’t need hiding. Why? Because priests, like angels (malakhim), can appear and disappear at will! That's based on (Malachi 2:7), which compares priests to messengers, angels, of God. Similarly, prophets are compared to angels, as we see in (Numbers 20:16). So, Pinḥas tells Rahav to hide only Caleb, his counterpart, while he will simply stand before them unseen. And she did! (Joshua 2:4) subtly tells us she only hid "him". Caleb.

The text makes a point of stressing how much these two righteous men devoted themselves to perform their mission. And then comes the punchline: "However, the emissaries that Moses sent were wicked men." A rather stark contrast isn't it? Where do we get that? From the very phrase, "Send you men." The implication is that Moses was acting on his own accord, rather than at God's explicit command. This hints at the spies' ultimate failure, the fear they instilled in the Israelites, and the consequences that followed.

So, what's the takeaway? It's not just about obedience, but about intention. About wholeheartedly embracing a mission, about the lengths one will go to fulfill a sacred task. And perhaps, a cautionary tale: even a mission that seems divinely ordained can go terribly wrong if the hearts of those carrying it out aren't truly aligned with the divine will.

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Sifrei Devarim 23:3Sifrei Devarim

Why all this talk of "going up"? It's not just poetic license. The Sifrei Devarim, a collection of early rabbinic legal interpretations on the Book of Deuteronomy, points to a fascinating idea: that the Land of Israel is literally higher than all other lands.

Where does this come from? The text references several verses to make its case. Remember in (Numbers 13:30), when Caleb urges, "Let us go up and inherit it?" And then in the next chapter, verse 21, "And they went up and spied out the land?" Even way back in (Genesis 45:25), we read, "And they went up from Egypt and they came to the land of Canaan." Each of these instances uses the verb "to go up" (la'alot) when referring to entering the land.

The Sifrei connects all these "ascents" to the inherent elevation, both physical and spiritual, of the Promised Land. It's more than just geography. It's about aspiration, about striving toward something greater.

Here's where it gets even more interesting. The Sifrei then quotes, "And they returned word to us and they said: Good is the land that the L-rd our G-d gives us." Wait a minute! Did everyone really say it was a "good land?" Didn't most of the spies bring back a terrible report, filled with fear and doubt?

That's precisely the question the Sifrei asks. "Now did they speak good (of the land)? Did they not speak evil of it?"

Of course they did! Only Joshua and Caleb, those beacons of faith, spoke positively. The others, gripped by fear, focused on the obstacles and the giants. And even after their brave report, as we read in (Deuteronomy 1:26), "And you did not desire to go up, and you opposed the word of the L-rd your G-d."

So, what's the takeaway? Maybe the Sifrei is hinting at something deeper. Perhaps the "going up" isn't just about physical elevation, but about the spiritual ascent required to truly see the good in the Land, and in life itself. It takes faith, courage, and a willingness to rise above our fears to appreciate the gifts we're given. Maybe that's why even now, we say, “aliya l’Eretz Yisrael," going up to the Land of Israel, regardless of the actual direction we travel. It’s always an upward journey, a spiritual climb.

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