The Yalkut Shimoni, a compilation of rabbinic teachings on the Hebrew Bible, offers a fascinating and poignant glimpse into the deaths of Aaron and Moses. Specifically, Yalkut Shimoni on Torah 787 gives us this incredible narrative.
Imagine this: Moses, Aaron, and Eleazar (Aaron’s son) are climbing a mountain. There's a heavy weight in the air. Moses is reluctant to break the news to Aaron: his time is near. But Aaron, ever the wise and gentle soul, already knows.
"My brother," Aaron asks Moses, "do you wish to know what is written about Abraham?" Moses, of course, says yes. Aaron quotes Genesis 15:15: "And you shall come to your ancestors in peace, and you shall be buried in a good old age." He points out that Abraham felt no pain. Aaron then subtly probes Moses about his own acceptance of mortality, asking if he would accept death willingly even if it came sooner than expected. Moses' response? "The Righteous Judge is trustworthy in me." A powerful declaration of faith.
The angels themselves are astonished as they witness Aaron willingly following his younger brother, Moses, to accept his death. They compare it to Isaac's willingness to be sacrificed, as told in Genesis 22, but suggest this is even greater!
Now comes a difficult moment. Moses must remove Aaron's priestly garments and dress Eleazar in them. It's a sacred act, but how can Moses strip his brother bare, especially knowing what's coming? God, in his infinite understanding, intervenes, telling Moses, "You do what you need to do, and I will do what I need to do." So, Moses disrobes Aaron. The text says Aaron "swallowed himself up in the mountain," while the angels clothe Eleazar. What a vivid image!
Some say Moses began undressing Aaron from his feet. As Moses removes each piece, a cloud of glory descends, covering the parts of Aaron's body that were exposed. Moses asks Aaron, "What do you see? What is death like?" Aaron's replies are increasingly distant, until finally, fully enveloped in the cloud, he says, "I am not worthy to tell you, but I wish I had come here earlier."
Imagine Moses’ reaction. He is human, after all. Seeing his brother pass away with such peace, such acceptance, fills him with longing. He desires the same fate.
And what of Moses’ own death? The text says that God took Moses' soul with a kiss, as Deuteronomy 34:5 states, "By the mouth of God." A gentle, loving end.
But the story doesn't end there. After Aaron's passing, Moses and Eleazar descend the mountain. The people of Israel, who loved Aaron deeply, are frantic. "Where is he?" they cry. They fear Moses and Eleazar have done something wrong, perhaps even unjustly condemning Aaron. The Yalkut Shimoni tells us that Satan himself stirs up this unrest.
God, seeing their distress, instructs the angels to lift up Aaron's staff, a symbol of his authority and righteousness. God Himself mourns over the staff, and the angels echo His mourning. When the Israelites witness this divine display of grief and honor, they are overcome with remorse and mourn Aaron with great weeping. "And all the house of Israel wept for Aaron" (Numbers 20:29).
The text contrasts this with the death of Miriam, Moses and Aaron's sister. While she was undoubtedly mourned, the grief wasn't as widespread. And even Moses' own death wouldn't elicit the same level of collective sorrow as Aaron's, perhaps because Moses was known to rebuke the people. The Yalkut Shimoni emphasizes that Aaron's death was a unique moment of unity, a testament to his role as a peacemaker.
Seeing the extraordinary honor bestowed upon Aaron, Moses is overcome with a sense of loneliness. He thinks to himself, "Who will mourn for me?" God reassures him that He Himself will care for Moses' burial, ensuring it remains a secret and that Moses will also depart with a kiss, "by the mouth of God."
The Yalkut Shimoni concludes with a beautiful reflection on the fate of the righteous. God welcomes them, the angels greet them with joy, and they are invited to "Come in peace, rest on your beds" (Isaiah 57:2).
It’s a powerful reminder that even in death, there is comfort, dignity, and divine love. What do you think about this depiction of death? Does it bring you comfort, or does it raise more questions about the unknown?