The story goes that Moses actually fetched the tablets himself, from a diamond quarry that God pointed out to him. Imagine that! Not just receiving the word of God, but actively participating in the creation of the very vessels that would hold it.
And here’s where it gets even more interesting. As Moses hewed the precious stone, chips fell off. But these weren't just ordinary stone fragments. These chips, we’re told, made Moses a rich man.
Think about that for a moment. The act of creating the tablets, of bringing God's word into the world, directly enriched Moses. The text implies this wealth wasn't just about material possessions. The legend says that Moses now possessed all the qualifications of a prophet – wealth, strength, humility, and wisdom. According to this tradition, God gave Moses all fifty gates of wisdom except one.
But why Moses? Why was he the one chosen for this unique reward? The legends offer a compelling reason. Originally, the Torah itself, written on these tablets, was intended only for Moses and his descendants. It was his benevolence, his generous spirit, that led him to impart the Torah to all of Israel. As Ginzberg retells it in Legends of the Jews, it was Moses' compassion that opened up God's word to everyone.
And there’s another layer to this. The Midrash explains that the wealth Moses acquired in fashioning the Torah was a direct reward for a specific act of piety: taking charge of Joseph's corpse when the Israelites left Egypt. While everyone else was busy grabbing Egyptian treasures, Moses focused on honoring the dead.
God, according to this tradition, recognized Moses' selfless act. "Moses deserves the chips from the tables," God says. "Israel, who did not occupy themselves with labors of piety, carried off the best of Egypt at the time of their exodus. Shall Moses, who saw to the corpse of Joseph, remain poor? Therefore will I make him rich through these chips."
It’s a beautiful illustration of divine justice, isn't it? A reminder that true wealth isn't always about material possessions. Sometimes, it's about the richness of character, the willingness to act with compassion and piety, even when no one else is watching. It's about prioritizing what truly matters, like honoring the dead and sharing divine wisdom. It makes you wonder, what "chips" might we be missing out on by focusing on the material world instead of acts of kindness and devotion?