Timeless Torah

I’m dying. My old bones and frail body are racked by pain and disease. Nonetheless, I will myself to sit up in my bed and call my grandchildren to dress me.
“Sabbah,” they call out in alarm. “Please lie down. You’re too weak to go to the Mishkan. Take it easy!”
“Too old! Take it easy! If only you youngsters had been around on Moses’ final day. Then you would know that staying in bed is not an option. I remember it as if it happened just yesterday.
“I was a Levite, one of the Ark Bearers. Our family and Moses’ were kinsmen. No one had slept that night knowing that this was to be Moses’ last day among us. The silence was dreadful and at times punctuated by sounds of mourning and sobbing.
“The sun had risen, casting its first rays on the majestic Desert Sanctuary. The Temple should have been bursting with activity. Instead, it stood silent and brooding. Where are the Priests and the Levites? Where are the sounds of melody and the pungent smell of incense?
“Yet, like the rest of the nation, they could not imagine how they would get through their daily routine. How could they possibly continue their service with joy and contentment, knowing that their Teacher’s last hours were at hand?
“Suddenly an expectant hush descended upon us. There he was! The great Moses. Every parent was holding a child aloft so that even the youngest could gaze on his extraordinary face, which today truly seemed to shine like the sun. How lucky we were to have shared our lives with one who had received instruction from the Master of Wisdom Himself.”
The old man’s cough was painful to hear and it was obvious that even this short reminiscence had taken much energy. Thus his grandchildren were hesitant to voice any of the myriad questions they all had. But one of them younger than the rest, not comprehending the seriousness of the situation, piped up. “Grandpa, did he say anything or was he too old to speak?”
“Moses was never old,” Sabbah sharply retorted. “His vigor had not diminished one degree. His eyes as well as his other senses remained sharp. But even more important than what he said, was what he did.”
“And what was that?” inquired the little one.
“He went.”
If you could read my (the writer’s) mind, I could end the essay at this point. But as you cannot, allow me to elaborate. When I was growing up in Montreal, on occasion I worked in my father’s factory. The plant manufactured ladies blouses and employed several dozen workers. The work day officially ended at 4:00 PM, but already thirty minutes before, the workers began slacking off. Many would utilize their final moments of the day to change out of their work clothes, go to the washroom and tidy up. Of course, by 3:58 PM they were dutifully lined up with their cards to be the first to punch out.
I noticed this syndrome just prior to the long holiday weekends. If offices were due to close on Friday, one could sense a laid back, relaxed, vacation atmosphere the entire Thursday afternoon.
This week’s Biblical reading retells the events of Moses final day, beginning with the phrase, “Moses went and spoke these words.” The Torah itself does not specify where he went, leaving the various commentaries to fill in the missing blanks. Let me offer one possible homily. The Bible is teaching us about the greatness of our leaders who are always on the move, exerting themselves to march forward. This is similar to, “Abraham was old, advanced in days,” which simply means that the Patriarch had made use of every day equally, even his last. So too, Moses displayed the same determination, drive and energy on the last day of his career as he did on the first.
So until Moses stopped, the Bible says, “He went.”
“That’s why I have to get out of bed,” pleaded the old man. “That’s why I have to get to the Mishkan and keep going, learning, advancing.”
And so he did. He went until he stopped.