In this week’s parshah, we learn that Moshe Rabbeinu will not be entering Eretz Yisroel and will be niftar and buried on an unnamed mountaintop. The reason his burial place remains unknown is to prevent us from turning Moshe Rabbeinu into an idol and treating his kever as a place of worship.
The Meshech Chochmah asks why suddenly now, as Moshe Rabbeinu is about to die, does this become an issue. After all, Moshe was a legendary figure, almost larger than life, who was instrumental in bringing Klal Yisrael out of slavery and taking them to the very heights of Matan Torah. He spent forty days and nights on Har Sinai, showing himself to be virtually beyond the limits of human potential. Why do concerns about deifying him only appear once he has passed away and is no longer an instrument for Hashem’s miracles?
He explains that the very essence of avodah zarah, as Chazal teach us, is based on the mistake of serving Hashem’s servants. Ancient peoples knew that Hashem was the sole Creator but were also awed at the sun and moon, His servants. Over time, they began to worship the servants as well.
Moshe Rabbeinu’s essence was that of a servant of Hashem. If not for the fact that Klal Yisrael constantly complained about him while he was leading them, there might very well have been reason to be concerned that the people would worship him. But the constant complaints made it impossible to have that kind of awe and respect for him. After his passing, however, the way of the world is that complaints are forgotten and only a person’s qualities are recalled. Therefore, it was necessary to ensure that this did not lead to Moshe Rabbeinu being turned into an idol.
It would be great if we could internalize this lesson for ourselves, and keep in mind at the present moment how we are likely to feel later. Rav Avigdor Miller so poignantly describes the scene of a man coming home after a long day of work. Not every evening at home is calm, peaceful, and happy. There’s often bickering and arguing. But if one were to remember that the day will come when the call of, “Hi there, I’m home” will get nothing more than silence in response, things could look very different.
The day after a spouse passes away, R”l, the home is empty and there’s nobody there to argue with. When that day arrives, one will yearn for the sweet times together and reminisce about the “good old days.” Isn’t it a shame to wait till then to realize how wonderful things once were, and how much better they could have been if only we had realized at the time?
Let’s not wait for the day when we’ll be abruptly alerted to all the good things we no longer have, to how petty all the arguments were, and how they prevented us from seeing all the blessings in our lives. Wake up now, take a look at the big picture, and appreciate all the many amazing details, before it’s too late.
