The Death of Moses
“So Moses, the servant of the Lord, died there, in the land of Moab, according to the word of the Lord. And he buried him in a valley in the land of Moab, over against Beth-peor: but no man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day. And Moses was an hundred and twenty years old when he died: his eye was not dim, nor his natui-al force abated.” — Deut. xxxiv. 5-7.
Calm and colossal, not so much distinguished by his individual features as by the mighty deeds with which he is identified, stands out the figure of that Hebrew lawgiver; and betwixt the romantic incidents of his birth and upbringing, his unparalleled achievements as the conductor of a national exodus, and his exalted function as the founder of the Hebrew commonwealth and the father of a new dispensation, no mere man has exerted a larger or more enduring influence on human history.
The end was in keeping with such illustrious antecedents. Lately we had occasion to consider the solitary false step or stumble in his public career, and nothing could more strikingly exhibit the strictness of that “schoolmaster” economy than the way in which this single offence was visited.
The eating of the forbidden fruit was hardly more fatal to Adam than was the smiting of the Rock to Moses; and even although we can see the rectitude of the dispensation, our hearts will still revert to its severity. It may be true that a significant type was spoiled by his smiting on this second occasion a rock which had been smitten once for all already, and which now needed only to be spoken to; it may be true that his spirit was provoked, and that the impression which he conveyed to the people was very different from that divine munificence and mercy which originated the miracle: yet remembering his long services and his rare consistency, and conscious as we are of our own infirmity, we are apt to share the grief and disappointment of Meribah. The sentence may be righteous, but still it is severe, and we feel deeply concerned for the leader who, after forty years of signal service, receives a rebuke so marked, and who sees vanish from his grasp that crown for which his hoary hairs so long had waited.
But if we behold the severity of God we also behold His goodness; and indeed, we may add, what was in itself so great a humiliation only brought out more strikingly the real grandeur of Moses. To err is human, and Moses erred; but to be rebuked, to be punished, and show no resentment, is a rare nobleness. This nobleness the grace of God gave to Moses, and hence it came to pass that in all his career there is nothing grander than its ending. On the one side, mercy triumphed over judgment, and if the lawgiver had received a rebuke, that was more than compensated by the peerless distinction attending his exit. On the other side, grace triumphed over nature, and instead of wasting the time in a murmuring remonstrance or unmanly lamentations, warned by God that he was now to die, he who as a servant had been so faithful in all God’s house, now bestirred himself in the final task, and for the last time set that house in order.
1. He first of all addressed the people. In that discourse, which fills the first thirty chapters of Deuteronomy, he rehearsed their history, and recapitulated those commandments and that covenant, by adhesion to which they were to become a people peculiar and Heaven-protected. In these thirty chapters we have the essence of Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers; only conveyed in a tone of patriarchal affection and personal tenderness, Deuteronomy is a speech rather than a book, full of that anxious fidelity and fatherly desirousness which, knowing that it is a last opportunity, can hardly leave off, and which, after attempting to close, begin again, in the spirit of the last sentences, Deut. xxx. 15-20.
2. Then he installed his successor. Joshua, so gallant and God-fearing, and found so faithful amidst the faithless many, in the presence of Jehovah and the people he set apart to that conquest of Canaan to which he himself had once aspired as his dearest guerdon, and the fit close of his pilgrimage: “Be strong, and of a good courage; for thou must go with this people unto the land which the Lord hath sworn unto their fathers to give them; and thou shalt cause them to inherit it. The Lord will be with thee; he will not fail thee, neither forsake thee: fear not, neither be dismayed.”
3. Next into that most remarkable of all his productions, the thirty-second chapter of this book, he condensed the substance of all his warnings and entreaties, and along with them poured his own soul. Than “the song of Moses” Scripture recognises nothing as more sublime except one other composition, and with that other they only are acquainted who have received a harp of gold, and along with “the song of Moses, the servant of God,” sing “the song of the Lamb.” It has been well termed “the Magna Charta of prophecy,” and in its historical recollections and premonitory warnings, in its remonstrances and exhortations, its entreaties and regrets, and, above all, in its loyalty to Jehovah, it supplies the key-note, which we find constantly recurring in Isaiah, Jeremiah, and the prophets wha come after.
1 By Eichhom.
4. And finally, as the Prophet like unto Moses began with beatitudes, so, with a blessing broad and comprehensive this type of a Mediator closed; and, with parting breath transferring them to “the eternal God as their refuge,” leaving “underneath the everlasting arms,” he handed to his successor the rod of office, and laid down the task of all those arduous years.
Thus much on the side of Moses. His life and his work were well wound up, and in the manner of it God was glorified. And in His gracious dealing with His servant, God glorified Himself.
Although the sentence was not literally reversed, its bitterness was greatly mitigated. Although not permitted to pass over Jordan, Moses was allowed to look over it, and, with his eye preternaturally strengthened, he got such a sight of the goodly land as days of actual exploration might have failed to give. From JSTebo he looked down on the palm-trees of Jericho, close under his feet, and from the deep warm valley through which the Jordan was gleaming far across to yon boundless sea; from Jezreel, with its waving corn, to Eshcol, with its luxuriant vines; from Bashan, with its kine, to Carmel, with its rocks dropping honey; from Lebanon, with its rampart of snow, south again to the dim edge of the desert; and as he feasted his eyes, as what had so long been the land very far off, and what to the fretful host in 2a the wilderness had seemed no better than a myth or mirage; as the splendid domain spread out, hill and valley, field and forest, in the bright garb of spring, the Lord said, “This is the land!” “This is the land which I sware unto Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, saying, I will give it to thy seed.” But beautiful and overwhelming as it was, just then there began to rise on Moses’ sight a still more wondrous scene. It was no longer the Jordan with its palms, but a river of water clear as crystal, and on either side of it a tree of life o’ercanopying. It was no longer Nebo’s rocky summit, but a great white throne, and round it light inaccessible. He had just heard the name of Abraham, and if this is not Abraham’s seK! and if he is not actually in Abraham’s bosom! and in a better land than the land of promise! Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see that sight. Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit that better land.
“So Moses, the servant of the Lord, died.” The spirit was gone home. Behind that countenance, still radiant with the beatific vision, no longer worked the busy brain, no longer went and came the mind, which so long had conversed with God, and managed the affairs of a million people. Powerless is the hand which had swayed Jehovah’s rod, and split the sea in sunder; and cold in its unconsciousness is that majestic presence before which proud Pharaoh learned to tremble. A corpse is all that now remains of the mighty lawgiver, and there is no man there to bury him.
But the Lord is there, and in this moment of nature’s helplessness and humiliation the Lord confers on His servant the crowning act of honour. As it has been described —
•’ By Nebo’s lonely mountain,
On yon side Jordan’s wave,
In a vale in the land of Moab
There lies a lonely grave.
And no man dug that sepulchre,
And no man saw it e’er;
For the angels of God upturned the sod.
And laid the dead man there.
That was the grandest funeral
That ever passed on earth,
But no man heard the tramping.
Or saw the train go forth.
Noiselessly as the daylight
Comes when the night is done,
And the crimson streak on ocean’s cheek
Grows into the great sun:
Noiselessly as the spring-time
Her crown of verdure weaves,
And all the trees on all the hills
Open their thousand leaves:
So, without sound of music.
Or voice of them that wept,
Silently down from the mountain’s crown
The great procession swept.
Perchance the bald old eagle,
On grey Beth-peor’s height,
Out of his rocky eyrie
Looked on the wondrous sight.
Perchance the lion stalking.
Still shuns that hallowed spot:
For beast and bird have seen and heard
That which man knoweth not.
But when the warrior dieth,
His comrades in the war,
With arms reversed and mufHed drum,
Follow the funeral car.
They show the banners taken,
They tell his battles won.
And after him lead his masterless steed,
While peals the minute-gun.
Amid the noblest of the land
Men lay the sage to rest.
And give the bard an honoured place
With costly marble drest,
In the great minster transept
Where lights like glories fall,
And the choir sings and the organ rings
Along the emblazoned wall.
This was the bravest warrior
That ever buckled sword;
This the most gifted poet
That ever breathed a word;
And never earth’s philosopher
Traced with his golden pen
On the deathless page truth half so sage
As he wrote down for men.
And had he not high honour?
The hill-side for his pall.
To lie in state while angels wait
With stars for tapers tall,
And the dark rock-pines like tossing plumes
Over his bier to wave,
And God’s own hand in that lonely land
To lay him in the grave: —
In that deep grave without a name,
Whence his uncofl&ned clay Shall break again — most wondrous thought! —
Before the judgment-day;
And stand with glory wrapped around
On the hills he never trod.
And speak of the strife that won our life
With the incarnate Son of God.
Oh lonely tomb in Moab’s land!
Oh dark Beth-peor’s hill!
Speak to these curious hearts of ours,
And teach them to be still.
God hath His mysteries of grace,
Ways that we cannot t 11;
He hides them deep like the secret sleep
Of him He loved so well.”
And so, my dear friends, we finish our sketch of the Life and Times of Moses. It has occupied five-and-twenty lectures, and, by way of sequel or supplement, I should like to give some day, in a single lecture, a bird’s-eye view of Hebrew History, the fortunes and distinguishing features of that people on whom, in the hand of God, Moses impressed its religious and political characteristics, and the function which they have fulfilled in the world at large. In this way only can we appreciate how great the work of Moses was, when we see its re-
Mrs. Alexander.
suits not only in Solomon and Daniel, in John and Paul, but all down the ages in Ben Ezra and Maimonides, in Mendelssohn and Meierbeer, in Eothschild, in Spinoza, in the minstrels who have held by the ears enraptured capitals, in the millionnaires who have carried in their pockets the peace of empires, in the philosophers who have given new problems for wit to solve, new realms for mind to conquer.
And the lessons of that life! Yes, my friends, every life has its lessons, and every good life has its example and encouragement. Even the little household lamp which shone on your table through that one short winter, now that it is out it leaves the public street no darker, but oh! so desolate as it has left your dwelling! But histories like this are smis, and age after age myriads rejoice in their light.
You are not a prophet nor a bard, nor the father of a people, and yet the life of Moses has something for you. As the honest carpenter said, “I like to read about Moses. He carried a hard business well through. A man must have courage to look at his life and think what ’11 come of it after he ’s dead and gone. A good solid bit of work lasts; if it ’s only the laying a floor down, somebody’s the better for its being well done, besides the man who does it.” It was a hard business, but he carried it well through.
1 Adam, Bede, ii. 68.
You, poor widow, who have a large family to bring up and to educate — you, householder, who have many likings to consult, and many tempers to study — you, manager of your own or another’s business, who have many casualties to provide for, and many cares coming on you daily, cast yourself on Him whom Moses in each emergency consulted, and depend upon it He mil carry you through. The work of Moses was done in the presence of the fiery-cloudy pillar, and as conscience was in it, so immortality surrounds it; and if your work be done for God’s sake, and under His eye, it will last long after you are gone.
From Moses you should learn to despair of no excellence. Many of the Bible worthies take their peculiar tint or tone from one particular grace — Job from his patience, Abraham from his faith, Nathanael from his guilelessness; but meekness is the attribute assigned to Moses. But when did he get it? He was not meek to begin with. He was not meek when he smote the Egyptian and hid him in the sand; nor would you have thought him meek when, descending the mountain at sight of the people’s idolatry, he dashed in pieces the tables consecrated by the holograph of Heaven, and for the moment felt that it was no use taking further pains with such a people; and yet in order to subserve Jehovah’s purpose it was needful that the temper of the leader should become ductile as the beaten gold and elastic as the tempered steel. Seldom has the triumph been more complete. The man Moses became exceeding meek, and throughout all the sequel Meribah is the one brief outburst which interrupts the sweetness and self-control of nearly forty years. So you need not despair. In a besieged town all pains are taken to strengthen the weakest places, till at last they are often the strongest; so when the believer knows his own weakness, it will make him unhappy. This is the point against which Satan is sure to aim a surprise or muster a fierce assault, and if the town is taken the man may be lost. This sends him to prayer, and the Spirit of God builds up and strengthens where nature was weak,^ till at the point which is the key of the entire position a tower of strength uprises. What is your besetting sin? Would it not be glorious to have it replaced by some contrary and conspicuous excellence? — the love of luxury by simplicity, self-indulgence by sobriety, cunning and finesse by straightforwardness and sincerity, dulness and earthly-mindedness by fervour and devotion? Would it not be an excellent test of the genuineness of your profession if you could bring yourself to search out the worst point and the weakest in your character, and, whatever it might be, having found it out and fixed upon it, will you go to the Rock of
1 Isaac Williams on Old Testament Characters, p. 86.
your salvation and say, “This sin is like to be my ruin. This is the point at which the enemy will come in like a flood, unless, 0 Spirit of the Lord, Thou lift up a standard and raise an embankment against him. Here, where I am weak, make me strong. Here, where I am defenceless, be Thou my shield and my buckler”? And would it not be to yourself most comforting, to the name of Christ and to the grace of the Spirit most honouring, if the result of felt infirmity and consequent prayer, and watchfulness consequent on that again, were, that (the weakness of the disciple bringing out the power of the Master) your natural gruffness became a Heaven-nurtured gentleness, your natural self-absorption a divinely-implanted kindness, your natural wrath and precipitancy a meekness like that which, if it cannot be learned from Moses, may be acquired from that greater Master who says, “Learn of Me, for I am meek, and you will find rest to your soul,” — that rest which Jesus never quitted, and into which you also will with Moses enter the moment true meekness begins.
We get one glimpse of Moses after death, and it is important, for the light it throws on the world unseen. There was one thing which Moses desired of the Lord, and sought after, and that was an entrance into the Land of Promise. But there was another thing which he sought still more expressly, and his prayer for which also stands on record, “I beseech Thee, show me thy glory.” But during his earthly existence neither desire was fully granted. From the cleft of the rock he obtained a remote and rearward view of God’s glory, and from the top of Pisgah he saw the goodly land, but with the Jordan between. And then he died. He died; and there are embargos which death removes, just as there are barriers it overleaps and penalties which it pays in full. Moses died, and long ages afterwards was seen on earth again; and surely in both the time and place there was a deep significance. It was on the holy mount when the Lord Jesus was transfigured, and when He received from God the Father honour and glory. The veil that shrouds the viewless was for a moment sundered, and frail mortality could not stand it; but at home in the midst of it, and familiar with it, Moses and Elijah appeared amidst the glory, and, as if in their appropriate element, “talked” with the glorified Redeemer. And where? In the heart of that Holy Land, — on the top of one of those hills which his mortal feet were never to tread, but which may have been the frequent resort of his ransomed spirit. To meet wdth Moses and Elijah Jesus ascended that mountain apart, knowing that He would find them there; and the glory which startled disciples was no surprise to them, for they had been beholding the like through all these intermediate centuries. “I beseech Thee, show me Thy glory,” “I pray Thee, let me go over and see the good land that is beyond Jordan, that goodly mountain, even Lebanon.” Such are the two prayers of Moses, the man of God, and he dies (you would be apt to say) with neither petition gTanted, with each earnest prayer unfulfilled.
But come along to Tabor, and say, what good land is this which spreads around? What goodly mountain is that which into the northern firmament rears its verdant sides and snowy pinnacle? Whose glory is this that with rapt but not unaccustomed gaze he is looking on?
And would not the Lord thus teach us that “the desire of the righteous shall be granted”? With Moses do you pray, “Show me thy glory”? Well, you shall see it. The Lord ‘Jesus also prays, “Father, I will that they whom Thou hast given me be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory,” and you shall see it. “Woe is me, that I sojourn in Meshech 1” Wearied with the dry and monotonous desert, do you long for scenes fairer and more fruitful? God will show you a pure river of water of life proceeding out of the throne of God, and on either side of it the tree of life, with twelve manner of fruits, and with leaves that heal the nations. Dissatisfied with the tents of sin, do you desire this one thing, — that all your days you may dwell in the house of the Lord? Your desire shall be granted; for if you hold on, you shall become a pillar in that temple, to go no more out. Do you pant for knowledge, for broader views, deeper insight, clearer apprehension? Then you shall know even as you are known. Do you hunger and thirst after righteousness? Then “with the fatness of God’s house you 11 be well satisfied; from rivers of His pleasures He will drink for you provide.”