It wasn't just about following instructions; it was about life and death. A fascinating passage in Bamidbar Rabbah 5 delves into the story of the sons of Kehat, whose job it was to carry the Ark of the Covenant, and the dangers that came with that sacred task.

Rabbi Shmuel bar Rabbi Naḥman points out that the sons of Kehat were well aware of the immense reward for carrying the Ark. So much so, that they were eager to take on the duty. But their eagerness had a dark side. They would neglect the other sacred objects – the table, the candelabrum, the altars – all detailed earlier in the text. Why? Because they were too focused on the Ark! This brings us to the verse: "They shall not come to see as the sacred is being covered, lest they die" (Numbers 4:20).

Rabbi Yehuda HaLevi ben Rabbi Shalom offers a chilling interpretation. He asks, do you want to know why the sons of Kehat were dying? It was because, in their zeal to carry the Ark, they would pull back the curtain and gaze upon it before it was properly covered. They couldn't resist feasting their eyes on the holy object. But as Exodus 33:20 states, “As no man can see Me and live.” The Ark, in its unveiled glory, was simply too much for mortal eyes.

So, what was the remedy? God instructed Moses that when the Tabernacle was dismantled, the sons of Kehat were not to touch the curtain. Instead, the sons of Aaron, the priests, would enter, cover the Ark, the table, and all the vessels. This way, the sons of Kehat would be protected from gazing upon the Ark and facing death.

Rabbi Levi adds a layer of nuance. He says that even a fleeting glimpse, "like an eyelid when it closes upon the eye," could be fatal. A chilling example of this comes from the story of the people of Beit Shemesh in I Samuel 6:19: "He smote among the people of Beit Shemesh because they gazed at the ark of the Lord."

But what exactly does it mean to "gaze" at the Ark? Rabbi Abahu and Rabbi Elazar offer different interpretations. One suggests they were disrespectfully engaging in prostration while also reaping. The other says they were speaking "extraneous matters"—perhaps gossiping or joking—in the presence of the sacred object. Rabbi Levi adds that the curtain had been folded back, allowing them to see it.

The consequences were devastating. The text says "He smote among the people seventy men, fifty thousand men” (I Samuel 6:19). Rabbi Abahu and Rabbi Elazar debate the meaning. Were there seventy important men, each equal to fifty thousand? Or fifty thousand men, each equal to the seventy elders of the Sanhedrin? Rabbi Ḥanina and Rabbi Mona offer a similar, yet different, interpretation: the seventy were the Sanhedrin, and the fifty thousand were ordinary people.

The passage goes on to say that a war broke out, with fifty thousand men falling, along with members of the Great Sanhedrin. Elijah identifies the people of Beit Shemesh as the cause of this catastrophe, because they gazed at the Ark.

So, what’s the takeaway from all of this? The Holy One, blessed be He, honored the sons of Kehat by warning them, allowing them to save their lives. The text concludes that anyone who fears God will be honored and remembered. This is exemplified by the sons of Yonadav ben Rekhav, who, because they performed God's will, are promised that "No man shall be cut off, for Yonadav son of Rekhav standing before me all the days" (Jeremiah 35:19).

And if God does this for proselytes, how much more so for Israel, the children of Abraham! As Isaiah 48:18-19 says, "Had you heeded My commandments, your peace would be like a river…[the offspring of your innards…their name would not be excised and not be destroyed from before Me]." And Deuteronomy 4:4 reminds us, "But you, who cleave to the Lord your God, all of you live today."

Ultimately, this passage from Bamidbar Rabbah is a powerful reminder of the delicate balance between reverence and accessibility, and the enduring rewards for those who truly fear God. It makes you think about the ways we approach the sacred in our own lives, doesn't it? Are we drawing too close? Or are we keeping a respectful distance, mindful of the power and mystery that lies within?