Sermon given July 25, 2026.

When I was living in Austria, I went to the children’s section of the library to get a few books for myself. This is something I often did when I was living in other countries, because I found that it was easier to practice my German (or my Spanish, when I lived in Costa Rica, or my Hebrew, when I lived in Israel) through kids’ books.

I picked up a book at the library in Austria that was about a king who was scared of death. As a side note, yes, this is a sermon about death- but it is also a sermon, first, about a somewhat silly book. The book was both lighthearted as well as serious and heartwarming. In it, the king was SO scared of death that he outlawed death completely. Nobody was allowed to die anymore, and at first, everything seemed great-- people were taking risks and having fun and not getting sick and growing older and older. But then problems started to happen. The world was too packed with people, nobody was careful or respectful anymore, and nobody valued the time that they shared or spent together anymore. Ultimately, a great misery spread around the whole world until the same king revoked his decree and volunteered to be the next person to die. The end!

(Trust me, it worked very well in German.) But anyway-- I found myself thinking about that story this week. Because in this week’s Torah portion, we see Moses again wrestling with his own mortality in a way that, like that story, is also silly and serious and ultimately, through the lens of Midrash, heartwarming. 

Moses’ wrestling with his own mortality started a while back, when we were still reading the book of Numbers. That was when we learned for the first time that Moses would not be entering the Promised Land, and would, in fact, die before our ancestors crossed the Jordan. B’nai Yisrael were thirsty, and threatening mutiny, and Moses struck a rock with his staff which yielded water-- but because he did not follow God’s orders completely, or with pure faith, as a consequence he was told he would no longer merit entry into Eretz Yisrael. In the book of Numbers, the original version of the story of Moses’ punishment is brief and straightforward. God says to Moses “, “Because you did not trust Me enough to affirm My sanctity in the sight of the Israelite people, therefore you shall not lead this congregation into the land that I have given them.” v’zayu. And that’s that, and the parashah continues.   

But this week’s version of the story is a little different. This week, in parashat V’etchanan, Moses is personally recounting the moment he learned of his fate, to die in the desert without entering the Promised Land, and it is clear from the words of his recollection that the news was not easy for him to stomach. The opening phrase of this week’s parasha is emotional and poignant, as Moses shares what he remembers from the moment God condemns him.   

וָאֶתְחַנַּ֖ן אֶל־יְהֹוָ֑ה

Moses says, “and I pleaded with God!

“O my Sovereign GOD, You who let Your servant see the first works of Your greatness and Your mighty hand, You whose powerful deeds no god in heaven or on earth can equal!

Let me, I pray, cross over and see the good land on the other side of the Jordan!”

This vulnerability, and this level of grappling with the significance of his impending death, was absent in the book of Numbers. And so, too, was God’s response. As Moses continues, he shares with B’nai Yisrael that God grew angry with his resistance to his mortality. Moses does not take complete ownership for his resistance, saying this week “But GOD was wrathful with me on your account and would not listen to me. GOD said to me, “Enough! Never speak to Me of this matter again!”

Now as we just said, none of this was in the version of the story told in Numbers. As will happen repeatedly throughout the book of Deuteronomy, Moses’ process of recounting B’nai Yisrael’s journey through the wilderness and his own actions as their leader will contain variations and anecdotes not included in the earlier versions of these events, as well as some cases where details are omitted in the second retelling. 

And this makes sense-- We know from our own lives, and our own memories, that forgetting and remembering can be fickle processes, and depending on what we are going through in our lives, certain details may stick out more than others, afterwards. So, it’s not surprising if Moses’ retelling of the moment he learned of his impending death is more detailed and emotional the second time around, after he has had time to sit with it, and process it.

And, it turns out that the variation and emotion in this week’s version of the story also inspired a great deal of rabbinic creativity and imagination.

Because in Devarim Rabbah, an extensive Midrash on the book of Deuteronomy, the rabbis take the scene even further. They imagine Moses not only wrestling with his own mortality, but actually becoming quite obstinate and stubborn with God. Upon hearing God’s vow not to let him enter Eretz Yisrael, the Midrash says:

“When Moses saw that his sentence had been sealed, he decreed a fast upon himself, drew a small circle, stood within it, and said: ‘I am not moving from here until You, [God], void this decree.’ ….[and] He donned sackcloth, wrapped himself in sackcloth, and covered himself with ashes.”

I mean….. Have you ever seen a two-year-old throw a tantrum? Well, here I almost feel a bit like we’re seeing a 120-year-old man throw a tantrum. “I’m not moving from this circle until you change your mind” certainly doesn’t seem like an effective tactic to take with God.

And of course, Moses doesn’t get his way. That’s not how human life works, and apparently, it’s not how God works. The circle and sackcloth plan does not get him what he wants, no matter how much he argues-- and the Midrash imagines that boy, does he EVER argue!

Back and forth, and back and forth, the Midrash depicts the argument continuing, with God invoking the help of various celestial beings and even bypassing Moses to talk directly to his soul. Finally, with Moses apparently exhausted from the emotional labor of the topic, he calms down and makes one final plea of God, invoking their powerful history together, saying, quote:

“Moses said before the Holy One blessed be He: ‘Master of the universe, remember that day that You revealed Yourself to me at the bush, and said to me: “And now, go, and I will send you to Pharaoh, and take My people, the children of Israel, out of Egypt”? (Exodus 3:10).

And remember that day that I was standing upon Mount Sinai for forty days and forty nights?

I ask You, please, do not hand me over to the angel of death.’ “

And A Divine Voice emerged and said to him: ‘Fear not, for I, Myself, will tend to you and to your burial.’ At that moment, Moses stood and sanctified himself, like the angels.” 

And at the end of the story, God takes Moses’ soul back into heaven with a kiss on the lips.

Isn’t that beautiful? Ultimately, the takeaway from this Midrash is not just about mortality, but rather about the shift from fear to peace, from argument to acceptance, from fighting to resting, from rebuke to comfort. 

Which is why it is so perfect, and so fitting, to read this Midrash today. Last week was Shabbat Chazon, the final Shabbat of Rebuke-- but this Shabbat, immediately following Tisha B’av, is Shabbat Nachamu, a shabbat of comfort and consolation. And so, on this Shabbat Nachamu, I offer this Midrash to us all.

Because at the end of the day, though this Midrash is all about death, it isn’t actually just about death. It’s about our very human reactions when faced to things which are bigger than us and out of our control, and about how one of our most recognizable leaders had to face the same fears all humans know.

Because all of us do, indeed know fear. 

Lord knows we are scared now, today. We are scared for our country and state, scared for Israel, scared for Jews facing antisemitism, scared for minorities who are being targeted, scared for the LGBTQ+ community, scared for immigrants, scared for our kids, the list goes on and on 

And Moses’ fear reminds us that being scared is just the beginning. It is not the end of the story.

His tantrum-- drawing the circle, wrapping himself in sackcloth and ash, and arguing with God-- is also something we can understand. How many of us here have tried to barter with God? How many of us have refused to admit or accept something we know is true, whether a diagnosis or a piece of unwelcome news? How many of us have curled up on the couch in front of Netflix and refused to think about or contemplate reality because it hurts so much?

Moses knew that feeling, too.

It can be a source of deep comfort to know that even our greatest leader and teacher panicked when faced with the unknown, and something he could not control. It is humbling, to remember that deep fear touches us all, no matter our power, no matter our titles. 

But despite his fear, and despite his tantrum, it is also deeply comforting to know that Moses found closure in acceptance, and in sanctity.

And all of us-- no matter who, and no matter exactly which burdens we are sitting with today-- could benefit from a bit of acceptance, and a bit of peace. 

Which leads us to the question-- What would it look like for us, today, to choose to incorporate a little more sanctity and a little more acceptance into the aspects of our lives that we cannot control? What would it look like for us to see the many very real challenges we face as a society and as individuals as things God is also present for, and also loving us and supporting us throughout?

From Moses, we get a clear example of how to acceptance, though he fought it, tooth and nail.

It is the moment God reassures Moses that God, God’sself, will be ushering him into death, that everything changes for Moses.

And by ultimately being willing to sanctify the process of death itself-- by seeing Death as a journey God has a direct and loving hand in, just as much as giving the Commandments or bringing our people out of Egypt-- Moses finally finds his personal peace. And with that realization, he is finally able to accept that though he will not see the entirety of his dreams fulfilled, that does not mean his life’s work is meaningless, or his life forfeit.

Ultimately, Moses sees that if he truly believes God is in everything, then death cannot be completely ungodly.   

And his example, both in his resistance and in his acceptance of God’s power over death, can remind us, too, and teach us, today, that the challenges of our lives are also not completely divorced from sanctity. 

May we all be comforted by the fear, the tantrum, and then the acceptance of Moses, this Shabbat Nachamu.

Shabbat shalom.