We're talking about a fire so intense, so utterly divine, that it brought utter chaos, particularly amongst the tribe of Dan – and those "mixed multitude" who joined them on their escape from Egypt. Talk about a trial by fire, right?

Now, picture this: the elders, terrified, turn to MOSES. "Rather deliver us as a sheep to the slaughter," they plead, "but not to a celestial fire that consumes earthly fire!" Why Moses? Well, the story hints at a fascinating dynamic. The people, having perhaps "kindled [God's] anger," felt unworthy to approach Him directly. It's like the king's son who messes up and begs a friend to talk to his dad for him. So, they turned to Moses, their trusted intercessor. "Go thou to God and pray for us," they implored.

Moses, ever the compassionate leader, does exactly that. And here's the really amazing part: God answers immediately, halting the destructive fire. But the story doesn’t end there.

God doesn't just snuff it out and send it back where it came from. According to the Legends of the Jews, this fire was so powerful, so intrinsically linked to the divine, that simply removing it wouldn't solve the problem. It would have continued to spread, consuming everything in its path. It was already wreaking havoc, spreading so rapidly that no one could tell how far it had gone.

So, what did God do? He found a way to harness it. Instead of letting it return to heaven, He placed it upon the altar of the Mishkan (Tabernacle), where it consumed the offerings brought during Israel's desert sojourn. Imagine that – a constant, visible reminder of divine power and judgment.

But here’s where the legend takes an even darker turn. This wasn’t just any fire. This, we are told, is the same fire that tragically consumed Aaron’s sons, Nadab and Abihu, and KORAH'S rebellious company. It's a fire of immense power, both creative and destructive.

And, according to some traditions, it's even more personal than that. The Legends of the Jews tells us that this very Divine fire is what every mortal beholds in the moment of their death.

Whoa.

So, what do we take away from this fiery tale? It's a potent reminder of the awesome power of the divine, a force that can both create and destroy, punish and purify. It also speaks to the importance of intercession, of having someone to turn to when we feel unworthy or afraid. And perhaps, most profoundly, it suggests that even in death, we encounter that same awe-inspiring, transformative fire. A fire that, in the end, might just be the ultimate reality.