In Deuteronomy 31:14, God says to Moses, "Behold, your days are approaching to die; summon Joshua, and stand in the Tent of Meeting and I will command him."
This verse, "Behold, your days are approaching," opens a fascinating discussion in Devarim Rabbah about death, mourning, and even the length of our days. It starts with a practical question: what's the halakha, the proper Jewish law, for someone whose relative has just passed away?
The Sages teach us that someone in this situation, with their deceased relative lying before them, is exempt from reciting the Shema, the central prayer proclaiming God's oneness, and the Amidah, the standing prayer. Why? Because, as the Rabbis explain, their mind is understandably muddled by the grief and immediate responsibility. But once the burial is over, then for the entire seven days of mourning, known as shiva, they are obligated in every possible mitzvah, every commandment.
Now, where do we get this idea of seven days of mourning? Rabbi Abba bar Avina points to the story of Joseph in Genesis 50:10: "He observed mourning for his father seven days." And yes, Shabbat is included in that count. Rabbi Yosei bar Zevida, citing Reish Lakish, offers another source, drawing a parallel from Amos 8:10: "I will transform your festivals into mourning." Just as festivals like Sukkot and Passover last seven days, so too does the intense period of mourning. As we see, Jewish tradition often draws connections and finds echoes across different parts of the Torah and Prophets.
But here's where the story takes a turn into the mystical. Devarim Rabbah recounts an incident from the time of Rabbi Shimon ben Ḥalafta. Rabbi Shimon attended a circumcision where the father celebrated with a feast and seven-year-old wine, boasting that he was saving it for his son's wedding. Late that night, Rabbi Shimon, confident in his strength, encountered the angel of death, who appeared quite strange.
"Who are you?" Rabbi Shimon asked.
"The emissary of the Omnipresent," came the reply. The angel explained his disheveled state was due to the people's careless talk – their grand plans made without any awareness of life's fragility. The angel revealed that the father who'd been boasting about the wine? His son was destined to die within thirty days.
Rabbi Shimon then asked to know his own time of death. But the angel replied he had no power over Rabbi Shimon, or others like him. Why? Because, "At times, the Holy One blessed be He desires good deeds and adds life to you, as it is stated: 'The fear of the Lord will add days' (Proverbs 10:27)."
This little story, seemingly a digression, actually underscores a powerful idea: our actions and our relationship with God can influence our lives, even the length of them. And it reminds us that while we make plans, we should always be mindful of life's uncertainties.
Finally, Devarim Rabbah concludes by reflecting on God’s words to Moses. The Rabbis emphasize the weight of a righteous person's death in God's eyes, citing Psalm 116:15: "Weighty in the eyes of the Lord is the death of His pious ones." God could have said directly, "Behold, you are going to die." Instead, God attributed Moses's death to the passing of his days. "Behold, your days are approaching to die." It’s a subtle but significant difference. It's as if God is easing the blow, acknowledging the pain of loss, even for someone as great as Moses.
So, what does this all mean for us? Perhaps it's a reminder to live each day with intention, to cherish our relationships, and to remember that even in the face of death, there is meaning and connection. And maybe, just maybe, that's how we add a little more life to our days.