Midrash Tehillim (a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Psalms) poses a seemingly simple question about the opening of Psalm 90, traditionally ascribed to Moses: "A prayer for Moshe, the man of God." If he's a man, why call him God? And if he's God, why call him a man? It's a question designed to make us pause and consider the complexities of this towering figure in Jewish history.

The Midrash offers a series of intriguing answers, each painting a different facet of Moshe's multifaceted nature.

Consider this: when Moshe stood before Pharaoh, demanding the release of the Israelites, he acted with such authority that, as it says in Exodus 7:1, God said, "See, I have made you a god for Pharaoh." Yet, when he fled from Pharaoh's wrath, he was simply a man, vulnerable and seeking refuge.

Or think about the miraculous events surrounding his birth and early life. According to the Midrash, when he was cast into the Nile, he was a helpless man. But when he turned the water to blood, one of the ten plagues, he was acting with divine power. He was, in that moment, God-like.

There's another interpretation, too. When Moshe ascended Mount Sinai to receive the Torah, the teachings, he seemed to transcend human needs. As Exodus 16:15 says, the Israelites questioned "What is the manna?", this mysterious substance God provided. Moshe himself didn't eat or drink. But when he descended and rejoined the human world, he ate and drank like everyone else. Was he divine, or simply human?

Rabbi Avin offers a particularly striking image: "From his waist down, he was called a man." What does that even mean? Perhaps it's a commentary on his physical needs, his grounding in the earthly realm.

Rabbi Elazar of Metropolia, however, suggests that Moshe's unique quality lies in his relationship with God. He was called “the man of God” because, as Deuteronomy 33:21 says, "He performed the Lord's righteous acts and his ordinances with Israel." He wasn’t just a messenger; he actively engaged with God, even arguing about the strictness of the law! Rabbi Elazar points to Numbers 11:15, where Moshe, overwhelmed by the burden of leadership, cries out, "If you will deal thus with me, kill me!" It’s a raw, human moment, yet it speaks to the depth of his commitment to God's will.

The Midrash continues, highlighting Moshe's role as a judge, "He executed the judgment of the Lord." (Deuteronomy 33:21). He wasn't afraid to challenge even the attribute of justice. The text references Numbers 16:30, when Korach and his followers rebelled. Moshe declared, "If it is through creation, let the Lord create..." He was, in essence, saying: if a new form of punishment is needed, so be it.

The Midrash emphasizes that no one spoke against the attribute of justice like Moshe. Remember the episode with the Golden Calf? God, in his anger, threatened to destroy the Israelites and start anew with Moshe. But Moshe pleaded, "Please forgive them." And what was God's response? "I have forgiven them as you have spoken" (Numbers 14:20). Moshe's intercession, his willingness to stand up for his people, even against divine wrath, is a testament to his unique position.

So, was Moshe a man or God? The answer, according to Midrash Tehillim, is both. He was a man elevated by his relationship with God, a leader who embodied both human frailty and divine power. He was a bridge between heaven and earth, a testament to the potential within each of us to strive for something greater. He was Moshe Rabbenu, Moses our Teacher, and his story continues to challenge and inspire us to this day. What does it mean to be both human, and to strive for something transcendent? It's a question worth pondering, isn't it?