Deuteronomy, or Devarim in Hebrew, is full of Moses' final words, his reflections on a lifetime of leadership. And within the rabbinic compilation called Devarim Rabbah, a midrash – a kind of interpretive commentary – on Deuteronomy, we find a powerful exploration of just that theme.
It all starts with the verse, “I pleaded with the Lord” (Deuteronomy 3:23). But the rabbis don't just take it at face value. They delve deeper, connecting it to a verse from Psalms (39:12): “You chastise a man with punishments for iniquity, consuming his delight like a moth. Surely man is mere nothingness.” What's the link?
The midrash argues that Moses is being "chastised with punishments for iniquity" because of one specific moment. Remember when Moses, frustrated with the Israelites, called them "defiant ones" (Numbers 20:10) before striking the rock to bring forth water? That, the midrash suggests, was Moses' iniquity.
And who is this "man" being spoken of? The midrash is clear: it's none other than Moses himself, "the man Moses [who] was very humble" (Numbers 12:3). So, even the humblest among us, the greatest prophet, can stumble.
But what about the "consuming his delight like a moth" part? What delight are we talking about? According to the midrash, it's Moses' deepest desire: to enter the Land of Israel. Just as a moth slowly eats away at a garment, so too did Moses’ sin prevent him from reaching his ultimate goal. As we find in Jeremiah (3:19), God promises to give "a land of delight..." – the very thing denied to Moses.
It's a harsh interpretation, isn't it? One slip-up, and a lifetime of longing goes unfulfilled. But the midrash doesn't stop there. It uses Moses’ experience to make a broader point: if this is what happened to righteous Moses, how much more so are the rest of us destined for "nothingness" and judgment?
Rav Aḥa adds a final, poignant layer to this interpretation. He points out that Moses, who was once elevated to the status of a god – elo’ah in Hebrew, as it says, "I have put you as a god [elohim] for Pharaoh" (Exodus 7:1) – is now pleading and prostrating himself. Even someone who held such a high position is brought to his knees in supplication.
So, what do we take away from this midrash? Is it a warning about the severity of divine judgment? Perhaps. But maybe it's also a reminder of our shared humanity. Even the greatest among us are fallible, subject to mistakes and their consequences. And even in the face of those consequences, there's still room for pleading, for repentance, and for striving to be better. It's a humbling thought, isn't it? It reminds us that even when we feel like we're being eaten away by the "moths" of our own mistakes, we can still turn to something greater than ourselves.