There’s a fascinating passage in Devarim Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic teachings on the Book of Deuteronomy, that sheds light on this very concept. It all starts with a verse we know well: "At that time the Lord said to me: Carve for yourself two tablets of stone like the first, and ascend to Me to the mountain, and make for yourself a wooden Ark" (Deuteronomy 10:1).

The Rabbis, in their characteristic way, unpack this verse, revealing layers of meaning. They begin with a seemingly unrelated legal question: In Jewish law (halakha), when a man betroths a woman, who pays the scribe for writing the betrothal document? The Sages teach that the groom pays, but only with the consent of both parties. Where did they learn this principle? From God Himself!

Think about it. When God sanctified Israel at Sinai, as it is written, "The Lord said to Moses: Go to the people and sanctify them today and tomorrow" (Exodus 19:10), who wrote that "document" of sanctification? Moses, of course! "Moses wrote this Torah" (Deuteronomy 31:9).

So, what reward did God give Moses for this monumental task? According to this midrash, it was the radiance of his face! As it says, "Moses did not know that the skin of his face was radiant" (Exodus 34:29). When did this happen? "Upon His speaking with him" (Exodus 34:29). Reish Lakish, a prominent rabbi of the 3rd century, offers a beautiful image: when Moses wrote the Torah, he received the radiance. The Torah, he says, was written with black fire on white fire parchment, sealed and bound with fire. As Moses wrote, he wiped his quill in his hair, and that's where he received the radiance!

Rabbi Shmuel bar Naḥman offers another perspective: Moses received the radiance from the Tablets themselves, passed from God's hand to Moses's.

But here’s where the story takes a poignant turn. Remember what happened next? Israel sinned with the Golden Calf, and Moses, in righteous anger, shattered the first set of Tablets.

The midrash tells us that God then said to Moses, "When you served as an intermediary for Israel, I gave you the reward of radiance of the face; now you shattered the Tablets." Ouch.

Rabbi Yitzḥak uses a striking analogy: If a barrel breaks, it's the intermediary's responsibility to replace it. God, in essence, tells Moses: “You were the intermediary between Me and My children – you shattered it, you replace it.” This is why God commands Moses, "Carve for yourself two tablets of stone, like the first, and I will write on the Tablets the words that were on the first Tablets that you shattered. And be prepared for the morning, and you shall ascend in the morning to Mount Sinai, and you shall stand there for Me at the top of the mountain. No man shall ascend with you and no man shall be seen on the entire mountain. The flocks and the cattle shall not graze facing that mountain" (Exodus 34:1–3).

So, what can we take away from this rich midrash? It highlights the profound responsibility that comes with being an intermediary, a bridge between two parties. It also suggests that our actions, especially those done for the sake of others, have unseen consequences, both positive and negative. Moses received the radiance of his face as a reward, but also bore the responsibility for the Tablets he shattered.

This midrash reminds us that our roles as intermediaries, as advocates, as helpers, come with real weight. What kind of radiance are we hoping to earn, and what kind of broken barrels are we prepared to replace? It’s a question worth pondering.