1 Then Moses went up from the plains of Moab to Mount Nebo, the peak of Pisgah which faces Jericho, and the Lord showed him all the land—Gilead, and as far as Dan, 2 all Naphtali, the land of Ephraim and Manasseh, all the land of Judah as far as the Western Sea, 3 the Negeb, the plain (the valley of Jericho, the City of Palms), and as far as Zoar. 4 The Lord then said to him, This is the land about which I promised on oath to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, “I will give it to your descendants.” I have let you see it with your own eyes, but you shall not cross over. 5 So there, in the land of Moab, Moses, the servant of the Lord, died as the Lord had said; 6 and he was buried in a valley in the land of Moab, opposite Beth-peor; to this day no one knows the place of his burial. 7 Moses was one hundred and twenty years old when he died, yet his eyes were undimmed and his vigor unabated.
That is a ripe old age, the very number established by God as the limit for human beings after the Flood (Genesis 6:3). Early childhood deaths for most of our human history skews averages much lower, but there is plenty of evidence of community elders in many cultures living well into their late 70’s and 80’s. But only a very few have approached the 120 mark–as a rule it holds up well. What is interesting to notice in the case of Moses is the Jewish tradition we find on the lips of Stephen in the book of Acts:
Acts 7:23 “When he was 40 years old, he decided to visit his kinsfolk, the Israelites.” Come face-to-face with the brutality of the Egyptian task-masters, he kills one, and has to flee Egypt to save his life.
Acts 7:30 “Forty years later, an angel appeared to him in the desert near Mt. Sinai in the flame of a burning bush.”
Acts 7:36 “This man lead them out, performing wonders and signs in the land of Egypt, and in the desert for forty years.”
For those first 40 years, we know how he came to be born an Israelite, but was raised by Egyptian courtiers. But (as with Christ) we know practically nothing about those “hidden years” when he grew into a man.
The last 40 years, begins with the triumph of the escape from the Pharoah and then recounts four decades of the struggles and the follies of the people he leads. Those 40 years thread through the books of Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy. That 40 year stretch ends with the reading in Deuteronomy given above–he dies on the edge of the Promised Land at 120 years old.
The question we cannot answer satisfactorily is this: what happened to fill the forty years (or at least the very most of them) between his experience at the burning bush and the Exodus itself?
Returning from Midian (where he had lived with Jethro his father-in-law) to Egypt will not fill them up. Neither will a year or two of announcing the plagues near the end of that time. What is happening with Moses from, say, 42-years-old to his late 70’s? The impression we get early in Exodus is that the resistance Moses has for returning to Egypt is all handled very speedily in a conversation with God. But is that so? Scripture studies in the modern era make on thing clear–we still have a lot to learn about ancient forms of writing and how to comprehend them. Isn’t it possible that what is presented in Exodus as one conversation between God and Moses is a way of dramatically presenting, what, historically, was years of struggle and indecision on Moses’s part? This, as he worked out his sensed call to return which conflicted with his serious fears and doubts about the whole idea.
Beyond that, it would appear Moses had some sort of (slow, undoubtedly) communication with his brother Aaron back in Egypt–how else keep up with events, but safely? Does Moses return, sub rosa, to do some quiet campaigning among Israelite families with Aaron and Miriam, aimed at supporting a challenge of the Pharoah? Were there perhaps many years of family-by-family organizing among the Israelites, trying to prime them for the showdown when the Lord would tell them the time had come?
We should remember that the written form we read is ultimately based on verbal forms that were memorable, repeatable, and, compared to our idea of historical recording, terrifically compact. And are, yet, true to the reality conveyed.