We often think of death as the great leveler, the fate that awaits us all. But Jewish tradition suggests that for some, like Moses, the end is… different. Special. : Moses, the man who spoke to God face-to-face, who led the Israelites out of slavery, who received the Torah on Mount Sinai. Surely his departure couldn't be ordinary?
Devarim Rabbah, a collection of homiletical teachings on the Book of Deuteronomy, gives us a glimpse into the extraordinary nature of Moses' passing. It paints a picture far removed from the typical mourning scene.
Imagine God saying to Moses, as this passage suggests, "All the people descend to the grave and their eyes dim; you, your eyes did not dim." It's a powerful image, isn't it? A contrast drawn between the common fate and Moses' unique experience. While the eyes of ordinary mortals fade with death, Moses' remained bright, undimmed. It speaks to a life lived with exceptional clarity and purpose.
And the differences don't stop there. The text continues, "All the people tend to utensils crafted by flesh and blood, a coffin, bier, and shroud, but you are in shrouds crafted by Heaven, a coffin crafted by Heaven, a bier crafted in Heaven."
Think about the implications of that. Ordinary people are buried in earthly shrouds, prepared by human hands. But Moses? He’s enshrouded in heavenly garments, placed in a heavenly coffin, carried on a heavenly bier. It's as if the very fabric of his burial is woven from the divine.
But the most striking image comes next: "Another matter, all the people, when they die, their relatives and neighbors tend to them, but you, I and My entourage tend to you."
Wow.
Instead of grieving relatives and neighbors, God Himself, along with His celestial entourage, attends to Moses. It’s an astounding image of divine honor and care. It underscores the special relationship Moses had with God.
Where do we find this idea in the Bible itself? The passage points us to Deuteronomy 34:6, "He buried him in the valley." The Hebrew is ambiguous. Who buried him? The verse doesn't explicitly say. The Rabbis of the Midrash see in that ambiguity a hint of the divine involvement. "He" – God – buried him.
So, what does this all mean? Is it meant to be taken literally? Perhaps. But it also serves as a powerful metaphor for the reward and recognition that awaits those who live a life of extraordinary righteousness and service. It reminds us that even in death, there can be a profound difference between the ordinary and the exceptional. It’s a comforting thought, isn't it? That dedication and devotion to God will be recognized, even in the face of death.