The ancient rabbis certainly did.
In Shir HaShirim Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Song of Songs, we find a powerful, poignant lesson woven into the seemingly simple phrase, "Twins of a gazelle." Rabbi Yehoshua of Sikhnin, citing Rabbi Levi, uses this image to illustrate a profound loss. He says, just as when one twin withdraws from the breast and the milk dries up, so too, the loss of key leaders affects the flow of divine blessing.
He connects this idea to the verse in Zechariah (11:8), "I will eliminate the three shepherds in a single month." Who are these shepherds? Moses, Aaron, and Miriam, of course! Now, you might object, didn't they die in different months, even if it was within the same year? The rabbis address this head-on. They explain that while their deaths may have been spread out, the decree concerning all three was issued in a single month. This is alluded to in Psalms (47:10), "The great ones of the people were gathered."
Rabbi Yosei expands on this. He teaches that these three figures – Moses, Aaron, and Miriam – were the three great providers for Israel. And through their merit, three great gifts were bestowed upon the people: the well, the manna, and the clouds of glory. The manna, that heavenly sustenance, came through Moses’ merit. The well, providing life-giving water in the desert, came through Miriam’s merit. And the protective, guiding clouds of glory came through the merit of Aaron.
Think about that for a moment. Each leader connected to a specific, essential blessing.
The text continues, painting a picture of what happened as each leader passed. When Miriam died, the well disappeared. The people cried out, "Not a place of seed, fig [and pomegranate, and there is no water to drink]" (Numbers 20:5). A stark image of deprivation. But, the text tells us, the well was restored through the merit of Moses and Aaron. Then Aaron died, and the clouds of glory vanished. The text says, "The entire congregation saw [vayiru] that Aaron had perished" (Numbers 20:29). But the rabbis cleverly suggest we read vayiru not as "they saw," but as "they feared [vayire'u]." They feared because they understood the protection of the clouds of glory was gone. Again, the clouds of glory were restored, this time through the merit of Moses. But then Moses died, and the text states, all three blessings disappeared, and were not restored. The hornet – a metaphor for divine assistance in battle promised in Exodus 23:28 – did not cross the Jordan with them, and Israel did not experience true peace of mind thereafter.
It's a sobering thought. The loss of leadership, the disruption of those vital connections, had lasting consequences.
Finally, Shmuel bar Naḥmani offers another beautiful image, connecting Miriam and Yokheved (Moses' mother) to the idea of tending to the flock. He says they were the midwives of Israel, and they would provide for [ro’ot] Israel, their hearts as soft as lilies. Where was this pasture, this place of nurturing? It was in Egypt, until the Red Sea. It was there that Miriam and Yokheved tended to the needs of birthing mothers and their offspring.
So, what can we take away from this intricate tapestry of loss and leadership? Perhaps it's a reminder to appreciate the blessings in our lives and the people who bring them. To recognize that leadership isn't just about power, but about connection, provision, and protection. And that the loss of those connections can have profound and lasting consequences, reminding us to value the leaders, the providers, and the protectors in our own lives, while they are still with us.