Like just when you think you've made it, something... shifts?
Jewish tradition has a way of acknowledging that final, often fiery, transition. Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer, a fascinating early medieval midrash, puts it starkly: "No man departs from this world until some of that fire, which rested among the sons of man, passes over him." It's a powerful image, isn't it? That last flicker, that final burning away of the dross. The text anchors this idea in the Book of Numbers, specifically Numbers 11:2, referencing the phrase "And the fire rested." What does it mean that the fire "rests" on us as we depart? Is it a punishment? A purification? Perhaps it's a reminder that even in our final moments, we're connected to something larger, something divine.
But Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer doesn't stop there. It segues into a discussion about Miriam and Aaron speaking against Moses. Specifically, it's about the "Cushite woman" Moses married, as we read in Numbers 12:1: "And Miriam and Aaron spake against Moses because of the Cushite woman whom he had married." Now, hold on a second. Was she really a Cushite? Wasn’t Moses' wife Zipporah?
The midrash poses the question directly: "Was she then a Cushite woman? Was she not Zipporah?" And the answer is brilliant in its simplicity: yes, she was Zipporah, but she was also, in a way, a "Cushite." Here's where the storytelling gets really interesting.
The text explains: "But just as this Cushite is different as regards his body from all other people, so was Zipporah different from all other women by her words and by her good deeds; therefore was she called a Cushite." It’s not about ethnicity in the way we might think of it today. Instead, the midrash uses "Cushite" as a metaphor for exceptionalism, for being set apart. Zipporah wasn't just any woman; she was extraordinary in her character, her speech, and her actions. She stood out, just as a Cushite might stand out due to their physical appearance. We often use labels to categorize people, to fit them into neat little boxes. But this midrash challenges us to look beyond the surface, to see the unique qualities that make each individual special. It suggests that sometimes, a label can be a symbol of distinction, a recognition of inner beauty and exceptional deeds.
So, what does this all mean for us today? Perhaps it's a reminder to embrace the "fire" of our own lives, to acknowledge the challenges and transitions that shape us. And maybe, just maybe, it's an invitation to see the "Cushite" in everyone we meet – the unique spark of goodness and individuality that makes each person extraordinary. It encourages us to look beyond superficial differences and appreciate the inherent worth and beauty in every human being. Are we seeing people for who they truly are, or just the labels we place upon them?