The ancient Rabbis certainly noticed it. They saw it woven into the very fabric of the Torah, these moments where authority seems to… loosen.

Our story today comes from Bereshit Rabbah 96, a section of the great Midrashic collection that explores the book of Genesis in painstaking, loving detail. It grapples with the verse, "The time for Israel…approached." What does it mean when someone's time is near?

The verse from Ecclesiastes (8:8) sets the stage: "There is no person who rules the spirit to retain the spirit, and there is no dominion on the day of death." Death, the great leveler, seems to strip away even the most firmly held power. But how does that manifest in life?

Rabbi Yehoshua of Sikhnin, quoting Rabbi Levi, offers a fascinating image. Remember the silver trumpets Moses crafted in the wilderness? The ones used to assemble the people, to announce important events? Well, as Moses neared his end, the Holy One, blessed be He, sequestered those trumpets. They wouldn't be used by anyone else. They would, in a sense, return to their creator. When God needs to assemble the elders, Moses himself has to request their presence, rather than simply having the trumpets blown as he would have in the past. As Deuteronomy 31:28 says: “Assemble to me all the elders of your tribes." This, says the Midrash, is an example of "no dominion on the day of death."

But the Midrash doesn't stop there. It dives into another, perhaps more challenging, example: the story of Zimri and Pinḥas (Numbers 25). Zimri, you might recall, brazenly brought a Midianite woman into his tent, defying God’s law and the entire community. Pinḥas, filled with righteous zeal, acted decisively, killing them both. The text says, "He went after the man of Israel into the tent" (Numbers 25:8). But where was Moses in all of this? Shouldn’t he have intervened?

The Midrash asks, "Where was Moses? And would Pinḥas speak before Moses?" The answer, again, is tied to the idea that "there is no dominion on the day of death." Death, in this context, isn't just physical. It's a kind of "lowering," a diminishment of authority. Pinḥas rises to the occasion, stepping into a void, while Moses, nearing his end, is… less present, less dominant. Salvation was given to Pinḥas, and Moses was lowered.

The Midrash draws parallels with other figures. King David, in his old age, also experiences a shift. Notice the subtle change in wording in 1 Kings 2:1. It doesn't say, "The time for King David to die approached," but simply, "The time for David to die approached." Even the mighty David, the shepherd boy who became king, experiences this leveling.

And then there's Jacob, also known as Israel – hence the opening verse. As Jacob approached death, he began to humble himself before his son, Joseph. He pleads, "Please, if I have found favor in your eyes." Why this sudden deference? The Midrash sees it as another manifestation of this principle: "The time for Israel to die approached."

What are we to make of all this? It's not simply about the physical act of dying. It’s about the delicate dance of power, authority, and legacy. It suggests that as we approach the end of our journey, whatever form that takes, there's a natural, perhaps even divinely ordained, shift in the landscape. Others rise, new voices emerge, and even the most powerful among us experience a humbling. Perhaps it's a reminder that true leadership isn't about clinging to power, but about preparing the way for those who will come after us. A thought to ponder, isn’t it?