When Moses, Moshe Rabbenu—our teacher, our leader—passed away, it sparked a celestial debate.
As Ginzberg retells it in Legends of the Jews, a fascinating thing happened. Adam, the first human, showed up, ready to stake his claim. "I am greater than thou," he declared, "for I was created in God's image." Seems like a pretty solid argument, right? I mean, being fashioned in the very likeness of the Divine? That’s a big deal.
But Moses, never one to back down from a challenge—remember Pharaoh?—had a comeback ready. "I am nevertheless superior to thee," he retorted, "for the glory that thou didst receive from God was taken from thee, whereas I retained the radiance of my face forever."
Boom.
Think about it. Adam, despite his initial divine spark, lost his privileged position. Moses, on the other hand, kept the radiant glow he received from God. This "radiance," by the way, is often referred to as the karan or panav, the "horn-like" appearance (though likely meaning a radiant glow) described after Moses descended from Mount Sinai with the Ten Commandments (Exodus 34:29-35). It’s a symbol of his enduring connection to the Divine. And he kept it, even after death!
But the debate wasn’t over yet.
Next up was Noah, of ark fame. "I am greater than thou," Noah proclaimed, "for I was preserved out of the generation of the flood." He survived the ultimate catastrophe! Surely, that counts for something, right?
Moses, unflappable as ever, had an answer for that too. "I am superior to thee," he countered, "for thou didst save thyself alone, and hadst not the power to save thy generations, but I saved myself and also saved my generation at the time when they transgressed with the Golden Calf."
Ouch.
Noah saved himself. Moses saved an entire generation – even after that whole golden calf debacle. Remember that? Talk about a leadership test!
Moses’ argument goes beyond mere survival. He interceded with God on behalf of the Israelites after they committed the sin of the Golden Calf. He pleaded with God to forgive them, even offering to have his own name blotted out of God’s book (Exodus 32:32). That’s not just saving lives; that's saving souls.
So, what are we to make of this heavenly argument? It seems like it's not just about who had the most impressive resume on Earth. It's about lasting impact, unwavering faith, and the ability to connect with and uplift others. Moses's legacy, according to this tradition, is one of enduring radiance and selfless devotion.
It makes you wonder, doesn't it? What kind of legacy are we building? What radiance, what light, will we leave behind?