But in Jewish tradition, there are moments where even MOSES, our greatest prophet, seems to do just that. Let's dive into one of those fascinating instances from Bamidbar Rabbah 19.
The verse we're looking at is Numbers 21:17: "Then Israel sang." But this isn't just about a song. According to this Midrash, it's one of three times Moses essentially tells God, "You know, maybe we can do this a little differently."
The first instance touches upon the giving of the Torah. Moses asks God, essentially, how the Israelites were supposed to know right from wrong after the sin of the Golden Calf. They grew up in Egypt, surrounded by idolatry! God gave the Torah to Moses alone, as Exodus 24:1 states, “To Moses, He said: Ascend to the Lord.” And when God gave the commandments, He said in Exodus 20:2, "I am the Lord your God [elohekha]" – using the singular "your," implying it was directed to Moses alone, not the entire nation. Did they even know they were sinning?
God's response? "As you live, you have spoken well. You have taught Me. From now on I will speak with the expression: 'I am the Lord your God [eloheikhem].'" God acknowledges Moses' point and shifts the language to address the entire community.
The second instance involves the concept of inherited sin. God says in Exodus 34:7, "Reckoning the iniquity of the fathers upon children." Moses challenges this, pointing out that many wicked men have righteous sons – Terach and Abraham, Ahaz and Hezekiah, Amon and Josiah, to name a few. Should the righteous suffer for their fathers' sins?
Again, God concedes. "You have taught Me," He says. "As you live, I am voiding My words and fulfilling your words." This principle is then enshrined in Deuteronomy 24:16: "Fathers shall not be put to death for children, and children shall not be put to death for fathers." And God makes sure it's written in Moses' name, as we see in II Kings 14:6: "As it is written in the book of the Torah of Moses that the Lord commanded..."
The third instance is perhaps the most striking. God initially commands Moses to attack SIHON, king of Heshbon, even if Sihon doesn't provoke war. Deuteronomy 2:24 says, "Rise, and travel, and cross the Arnon ravine... begin taking possession, and provoke war with him." But Moses doesn't. He sends messengers instead, as described in Deuteronomy 2:26.
God, again, says, "You have taught Me. As you live, I am voiding My words and fulfilling your words." This leads to the commandment in Deuteronomy 20:10: "When you approach a city to wage war against it, you shall call to it for peace." And when Sihon refuses, God delivers him into their hands, as it says in Deuteronomy 2:33, "We smote him."
But the story doesn't end there. Even those who hid in caves to ambush the Israelites were defeated. The Midrash says that God intimated to the mountain, and it crushed them, as it says in Psalms 74:13-14, "You broke the heads of crocodiles on the waters. [You] crushed the heads of leviathan." To ensure that Israel knew the good God performed on their behalf, He distanced the mountains and the streams washed away the remains of the enemy, as in Numbers 21:15, "The outpouring of the ravines."
This leads to the song of Israel, acknowledging God's miracles. But Moses, strangely, isn't mentioned in the song. He cries out, "Master of the universe, after all the miracles that You performed on their behalf, will I die at their hand?" He points out how he led them from the wilderness, giving them the Torah – a matana, or gift. Yet, it seems his death is now decreed. The Midrash interprets the place names in Numbers 21:18-20 as alluding to Moses' fate: from Matana to Nachaliel (God became their heritage), then from Nachaliel to Bamot (from the ravine came death – mot), and finally to the canyon in Moab where he was buried.
So, what does it all mean? This passage in Bamidbar Rabbah paints a picture of a God who is not only all-knowing but also open to dialogue, even correction. It suggests a dynamic relationship between God and humanity, where even Moses, in his humility and wisdom, can offer insights that shape divine action. It reminds us that even the greatest leaders are not above learning, and that true leadership involves listening and adapting. It's a potent reminder that our understanding of God is not static, but a continuous process of discovery and refinement.