“Vayelech Moshe” – Moshe went. Usually, Moshe summoned the people, and they came to him, But now that his reign as leader was over, he had to go to the people to pass his parting message on to them.
“Today I am 120 years old and I can no longer come and go” (Devarim 31:2).
Was Moshe saying that he was too old and weak to lead the people any longer?
That cannot be for we are told: “Moshe was 120 years old when he died, but his eyes had not dimmed and his natural powers had not left him” (34:7).
No, Moshe certainly had the strength left in him to lead the people into the land of Israel, but G-d had told him that he was forbidden to do so – “you will not cross the Jordan river.”
What Moshe was saying was that once G-d has forbidden him to do something, then even if he was physically able to do the forbidden thing, he was spiritually unable to bring himself to do so.
But if Moshe was physically up to it yesterday, how did he suddenly realize that his time was up as a leader today?
The answer is that Moshe was aware of the hidden reference to himself in the words of the Torah (Bereishis 6:3) “My spirit will not continue to forever judge man since he is nothing but flesh [beshagam hu basar] and his days shall be 120 years.” The fact that the words “Moshe” and “beshagam” are both equal in numerical value (345) informed Moshe that his life was to end at 120.
In addition, the words “beshagam” undercut an argument that Moshe, himself, could have made in a plea to live longer than 120 years. After all, Moshe is referred to in the Torah (Devarim 33:1) as a man of G-d, which Chazal interpret to mean that in spiritual matters, he was like an angel. This explains how He was able to survive in heaven for 40 days and nights learning Torah, without eating or drinking. Yet, in physical matters he was still human. Is such a hybrid being as Moshe subject to the edict pronounced in Genesis 6:3, that all humans must die by 120? This question is answered by the words “beshagam hu basar,” which means that even though Moshe was angel-like, he was still human, and he could not live any longer.
As such, Moshe’s mandate to act as G-d’s messenger terminated on that day and he had to make room for Yehoshua as his successor, because the reign of a leader cannot encroach on the reign of his successor by even one hairsbreadth (Yoma 21b).
So, Moshe then summons Yehoshua (Devarim 31:7) and tells him, “You shall come with the people to the land,” using the word “tavo.” Later on, when G-d addresses Yehoshua directly, (31:23), He uses different language: “You shall bring [tavi] the children of Israel into the land.” Whereas the word tavo suggests that Yehoshua will have no leadership role in bringing the people into the land and will just follow along the dictates of the Sanhedrin, the word tavi suggest that he will lead.
Indeed, by using the passive word tavo, it was Moshe’s intention that Yehoshuah, in all he did, would have to acquiesce with whatever the 70 elders of Israel decided, even if he disagreed with them. It was G-d’s wish however, that even though Yehoshua should seriously consider the views of the 70 elders, ultimately, the decision was for him to take, even if they disagreed with him.
This diverging view of Yehoshua’s leadership role is further borne out by the fact that when addressing him, Moshe (31:7) uses the name Yehoshua, whereas when G-d addresses him in (31:23) He does so with the name Yehoshuah Bin Nun. As the Chasam Sofer points out, the word “Nun” is made up of a bent Nun and an upright letter Nun and the word Bin comes from the word Lehavin to understand. Yehoshua was vested by G-d with the understanding to determine when to conduct himself like the bent Nun and bow to the will of the 70 elders and when to stand up to them, like the erect Nun and impose his decisions on them.
Moshe wrote the Torah and gave it to the Kohanim, the sons of Levi, the bearers of the ark (31:9). The word bearers (“no’sim”) signifies the title of a Kohen which is bestowed on him at birth. This title alone does not qualify him to be a bearer of the ark. After all, the Kohanim were meant to be the religious leaders of the people of Israel. The words “he gave the Torah to the Kohanim” are used to stress that the Torah must be given to the Kohen in the sense that the Kohen must acquire it, and he can only do by learning the Torah.
Moshe commanded that a reading of the Torah should take place in the presence of all the people of Israel who assemble at the Temple at the end of the seventh year of the Shemitah cycle, during the Sukkos festival. This gathering of the people known as Hakhel was in order that they learn how to perform all the commandments of the Torah which would automatically instill the awe of G-d into them.
If one would ask a person today to cease work and dedicate serious blocks of time each day to the study of Torah, the obvious question would be the one the Jews asked when they were required to cease working the land during the Sabbatical year: “What will we eat in the seventh year, behold we will not sow and not gather in our crops?” (Vayikra 25:20).
That is what the timing of Hakhel is all about. We are asked to gather, joyously, at a difficult time, at the end of the Shemitah cycle, when food is scarce and to dedicate our resources, not to the replenishment of food, but to our spiritual refurbishment. We are asked to do this not only by putting our economic concerns aside, but also by stepping, trustingly, out of the physical comfort zones of our permanent homes, without asking where our next paycheck will come from. It is only by doing so and thereby demonstrating that we place our economic and physical well-being entirely in G-d’s hands, even at the most vulnerable of times, in the flimsiest of accommodations, that we genuinely put into practice the words of the Torah “not by bread alone does man live rather by everything that emanates from the mouth of G-d does man live” (Devarim 8:3).