The last four chapters of Deuteronomy take place on the day of Moshe’s death. He visits each tribal encampment to say goodbye. He passes the leadership mantle to Joshua. He writes down the Torah and places it in the ark of the covenant. He sings a closing song to the people and blesses them.
And then, in the final chapter, Moshe climbs to the “head of the Pisgah”, a summit overlooking the Promised Land, across the Jordan. He surveys the vision he has been pursuing for forty years, the sun glinting off the river. Lost in reverie, he hears God’s voice one last time before dying:
And YHWH said to him:
This is the land that I swore to Avraham, to Yitzhak, and to Yaakov, saying:
To your seed I give it!
I have let you see it with your eyes,
but there you shall not cross.
Of all the parting words God might say, why these? Is it “checking the box” on the promise, confirming that God’s end of the bargain has been fulfilled? Why state that Moshe is being allowed to see the land with his own eyes? And why, as the last words, a poke at Moshe’s greatest sadness?
The Or Hachaim, a 19th century Moroccan commentator, resolves these questions with a beautiful teaching based on the seemingly insignificant word “Saying.” It’s meaning seems plain. God tells Moshe, “As I was saying to Abraham so many years ago, ‘To your seed I give it.’” But the Or Hachaim notes that this word appears dozens of times in the Torah, usually following a pronouncement from God, such as, “And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying.” In that usage, “saying” adds a formalism that gives the feel of a proclamation, a message to be delivered. The commandments are announced to Moshe this way. God speaks to him and asks him to tell the Israelites.
But if Moshe is about to die, to whom should he relay these words?
To Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. God wants Moshe to tell them that the promise to them has finally been fulfilled. That is the meaning of the statement, “I have let you see it with your own eyes”: to allow Moshe to report “mission accomplished” as an eyewitness.
Forty years before, after the exodus from Egypt, Moshe was visited by his wife, two children and father-in-law, Yitro. Ignoring his family, Moshe kisses Yitro and they disappear into the tent, where Moshe regales him with the miracles that were performed by God in the deliverance from slavery. Moshe’s focus on his father-in-law, ignoring his wife and kids, seems odd. But Moshe, left in the river at the age of three months, adopted and raised by Pharoah’s daughter, never knew his birth father. His adoptive grandfather, Pharaoh, sought to kill him. So the support of a loving father figure like Yitro was what Moshe most deeply craved.
With that background this vignette on the summit becomes a beautiful instance of God’s Chesed (lovingkindness). God foregoes the pleasure of announcing the good news to deliver to Moshe a perfectly suited gift, allowing him the joy and honor of a victory lap. The Or Hachaim imagines Moshe’s excitement telling the Patriarchs, the ultimate father figures, of the adventures and miracles along the way. The Talmud passage that inspired the Or Hachaim’s comment wraps this gift in one more layer: Moshe’s report was not news to the Patriarchs, looking down from heaven. But they pretended to be hearing it for the first time, to allow Moshe even greater joy in the telling.
This Midrash also explains God’s very last words to Moshe, “But there you shall not cross.” They seem unduly blunt. But in this remarkably intimate relationship, there are no secrets. Moshe has begged God to change the decision. But at the age of 120 he is no longer capable of the military leadership called for by the moment. That resolved, God acknowledges Moshe’s pain and then delivers a final loving gift to salve it, giving him a task that will focus him on all that he has achieved.
In Moshe’s last moments, he takes in the panoramic view from the summit. God too brings a wide view and with beautiful attunement, invites the Patriarchs to join in a gift to Moshe perfectly calculated to bring him to peace with his loss. It is a model of perfect Chesed, going beyond the Golden Rule to the Platinum Rule – doing unto others as they want done unto them.
Rich Moche
October 2024