It’s a question that echoes through the ages, especially when we consider the deaths of Moses and Aaron, figures of immense stature in Jewish tradition.
Jewish lore paints a picture of God showing special consideration for the righteous. The tradition teaches that God often reveals the day of death to the pious, allowing them to pass on their legacy to their children. But with Moses and Aaron, it was different. God felt a unique obligation. As we read in Legends of the Jews, God says that because "these two pious men throughout their lifetime did nothing without consulting Me, and I shall not therefore take them out of this world without previously informing them."
Imagine being Moses, hearing these words from the Divine. It wasn't just about informing Aaron; it was about preparing him, easing him into the transition.
The moment is fraught with emotion. God approaches Moses with heavy words: "Aaron shall be gathered unto his people; for he shall not enter into the land which I have given unto the children of Israel, because ye rebelled against My word at the waters of Meribah."
Moses, ever the advocate, responds with a mix of acceptance and trepidation. He acknowledges God’s sovereignty, saying, "Lord of the world! It is manifest and known before the Throne of Thy glory... that we are in Thy hand, and in Thy hand it lies to do with us as Thou wilt." But he also voices his reluctance: "I am not, however, fit to go to my brother, and repeat to him Thy commission, for he is older than I... how then shall I presume to go up to my older brother and say, 'Go up unto Mount Hor and die there!'"
There's a beautiful tenderness in Moses’s hesitation. He's not just worried about delivering the message, but about the emotional impact on his brother.
God's response is both gentle and firm. "Not with the lip shalt thou touch this matter, but 'take Aaron and Eleazar his son, and bring them up unto Mount Hor.'" The instructions are specific. They’re about presence, about shared experience.
Moses, Aaron, and Eleazar, Aaron's son, are to ascend Mount Hor together. The command continues, "Ascend thou also with them, and there speak with thy brother sweet and gentle words, the burden of which will, however, prepare him for what awaits him." It’s a delicate dance of communication, a careful balance of truth and compassion. "Later when ye shall all three be upon the mountain, 'strip Aaron of his garments, and put them upon Eleazar his son, and Aaron shall be gathered unto his people, and shall die there.'"
Why this elaborate preparation? Why not simply tell Aaron directly? The text suggests it's out of respect. God says, "As a favor to Me prepare Aaron for his death, for I am ashamed to tell him of it Myself." This is an incredible statement! The Creator of the universe feels ashamed to deliver this news directly.
This passage from Legends of the Jews reveals a profound understanding of human relationships and divine compassion. It reminds us that even in moments of profound destiny, kindness and empathy are paramount. It's a powerful testament to the value of family, the burden of leadership, and the delicate way in which we approach life's most challenging transitions. What does it mean that even God, in a sense, needs help delivering difficult news? And what can we learn from this story about facing our own mortality, and helping those we love face theirs?