A Tale of Three Mountains
Reflections on the role of mountains in Torah and in our lives
Once again, I find myself struggling to wrap my head around Parashas Haazinu. It is heavy, dense, and unrelenting. At the end of the parashah, after the conclusion of the Shiras Haazinu, the Torah tells us that Hashem commanded Moshe to ascend a mountain to gaze upon Eretz Yisrael before his death. Hashem reminds Moshe why he cannot enter the land, though he will be granted the vision of it. The Torah notes that Moshe’s death would mirror Aharon’s, as both were destined to leave this world atop a mountain.
If we were to imagine a final journey in life, few of us would picture a strenuous hike up a mountain. Why was this ascent necessary for Moshe and Aharon as they prepared to die?
To approach this, I think we need to step back and consider the broader role of mountains in the Torah. They seem to rise at every turn. A few examples:
Avraham took Yitzchak to Har HaMoriah for the Akeidah, the mountain that would later become the site of the Beis HaMikdash.
With the destruction of Sodom, its king fled to the mountains, and Lot too sought safety there.
Yaakov, when giving his bracha to Yosef, called him a “mighty mountain,” placing him at the head of his brothers.1
During the battle with Amalek, Moshe ascended a mountain and raised his hands to strengthen Bnei Yisrael.
The Torah was given on Har Sinai, where Moshe later davened for forgiveness after cheit ha’egel and received the second Luchos.
Aharon HaKohen’s final ascent was to Har Nevo, where he passed away. Moshe would later have the same experience.
Dovid HaMelech declared, “I lift up my eyes to the mountains—From where does my help come? My help comes from Hashem, Maker of heaven and earth.”2
Beyond these, mountains appear throughout Tanach including with Devorah and Sisera, on Har Grizim and Har Eval, and with Eliyahu HaNavi.
A friend, Shmuel Johnson, once pointed out that the great turning points of our history so often unfold on mountains. Again and again, the peaks rise as stages where the story of our people shifts.
It’s not an accident that a mountain also serves as a parable for the harder path in life, the one without shortcuts. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks put it this way:
“Creativity without failure is like being lifted to the top of a mountain without the climb. It may be fun, but it is not an achievement.”3
With all this talk of mountains, it is worth noting that they did not exist at the time of Creation. Only later, during the days of Enosh, upheavals reshaped the earth’s surface, leaving it rugged and mountainous.4 As generations passed, further storms and tremors followed, culminating in the Flood of Noach, through which the mountains and hills were formed.5
We also find that the Clouds of Glory flattened the topography of the desert, with the exception of three mountains: Har Sinai, Har Nevo, and Har HaHar.6 These peaks retained their height because they carried unique significance.
The Igra D’Kalla explains7 that they were already hinted at when Moshe stood before the burning bush. The word סנה stands for -סיני - נבו - ההר. Each was destined for a distinct purpose, as reflected in the pasuk שפת אמ”ת תכון לעד—“The lip of truth shall be established forever.”8 The word Emes stands for - אהרן משה תורה.
Taking this further, the Mishnah teaches:
רַבָּן שִׁמְעוֹן בֶּן גַּמְלִיאֵל אוֹמֵר, עַל שְׁלשָׁה דְבָרִים הָעוֹלָם עוֹמֵד, עַל הַדִּין וְעַל הָאֱמֶת וְעַל הַשָּׁלוֹם
“Rabban Shimon ben Gamaliel used to say: On three things does the world stand—on justice, on truth, and on peace.”9
These three, Din, Emes, Shalom, are reflected in the three mountains as well.
The mountains are a place of ascent, of drawing closer to Hashem with a pure heart. During Elul and through Sukkos, in L’Dovid Hashem Ori, we say the words from Tehillim:
“Who will ascend Hashem’s mountain, and who will stand upon His holy place? One with clean hands and a pure heart, who does not invoke My Name in vain and does not swear deceitfully. He will receive blessing from Hashem and righteousness from the God of his salvation. This is the generation of those who seek Him, who seek Your face, Yaakov. Selah.”10
Hashem is described as being upon a mountain because reaching Him requires ascent. We must climb refining ourselves step by step. It is never instantaneous, and never without effort. Yet when we make the climb, we are elevated as well, drawn closer to Hashem’s holiness.
We can choose the path of holiness, the path of the Ushpizin; Avraham, Yitzchak, Yaakov, Yosef, Moshe, Aharon, and Dovid and ascend the mountain. Or we can choose the path of triteness: the way of Korach, of the Egyptians at the Yam Suf, of the Dor HaMabul, and of so many others who faltered. That path, however tempting, descends quickly into the deepest depths of ruin.
The path up the mountain is reserved for those of holy stature. True strength lies in stillness, not in grand gestures or how one moves about in the face of change. A mountain does not sway with the wind or clamor for attention, it simply stands, rooted in its place, fulfilling its role with quiet greatness. The mountain’s power is in its ability to stand proud where it needs to be.11
By contrast, the descent away from the mountain belongs to those who live only for power. Dovid HaMelech said:
הָרִים כַּדּוֹנַג נָמַסּוּ מִלִּפְנֵי ה’ מִלִּפְנֵי אֲדוֹן כָּל הָאָרֶץ
“Mountains will melt like wax before Hashem, before the Master of all the earth.”12
When Hashem gave the Torah, some mountains were lowered, as if they had melted. So too, those who see themselves as unshakable eventually learn Who truly holds power, and they too “melt” before Him.13 As Rabbi Jonathan Sacks warned, this is the danger of confusing politics for religion:
“Politics is not a religion nor a substitute for one. The two are inherently different activities. Religion seeks truth, politics deals in power. Religion aims at unity, liberal democracy is about the mediation of conflict, politics is the art of compromise. Religion aspires to the ideal, politics lives in the real, the less-than-idea. Religion is about the truths that do not change, politics is about the challenges that constantly change. Harold Wilson said, ‘A week is a long time in politics.’ The book of Psalms says, ‘A thousand years are in your sight as yesterday when it is gone’ (Ps. 90:4). Religion inhabits the pure mountain air of eternity, politics the bustle of the here-and-now.”14
Some choose to slide downward into emptiness. Yet we must always remember that the mountain still stands. We can lift our eyes upward, appreciate the mountain, steady ourselves, and begin to climb or even, at the very least, yearn for it.
Victor Frankl wrote:
“If someone had seen our faces on the journey from Auschwitz to a Bavarian camp as we beheld the mountains of Salzburg with their summits glowing in the sunset, through the little barred windows of the prison carriage, he would never have believed that those were the faces of men who had given up all hope of life and liberty. Despite that factor—or maybe because of it—we were carried away by nature’s beauty, which we had missed for so long.”15
Even when we feel downtrodden and far from the mountain, we can still look upward and dream of ascent. To climb Hashem’s mountain requires more than strength of body, it demands inner honesty and the work of purifying the heart.16 We can then climb our inner mountains and come closer to Hashem.
The Hafla’ah points out that the letters surrounding the word הר (mountain) spell קדוש—holy. To ascend the mountain is to enter holiness itself, enveloped by it on every side.17
Perhaps this is why Moshe and Aharon were asked to end their journeys on a mountain. Their final steps were upward, so that they might leave this world wrapped in holiness. Maybe this is also why mountains stand at the center of so many turning points in Judaism, especially these three: Sinai, Nevo, and HaHar. Each marks a summit where Torah, leadership, and holiness met.
It may even be that the Shiras Haazinu was Moshe’s song of understanding, when he grasped, fully, what it meant to ascend. So as he climbed for the last time, he sealed it with his bracha to the people he loved: Vezos HaBerachah.
May we, too, merit to climb the mountains of our own lives, and one day to ascend the hills of Yerushalayim to the Makom HaMikdash, embraced by Hashem.
Bereishis 49; 26
Tehillim 121:1–2
Celebrating Life pg 33
Yalkut Shimoni 1:47
See Maharatz Chajes, Niddah 23a. - quoted in A Jewish Guide to the Mysterious pg 364. See also Tehillim 90; 2.
Bamidbar Rabba 19
Chukas
Mishlei 12; 19
Pirkei Avos 1;18
Tehillim 24:3–6
Adapted from Choosing Up by Ilana Kendal
Tehillim 97;5
As explained by Rivka Segal, Living Tehillim
Not in God’s Name p. 229
Man’s Search for Meaning
As explained by Rabbi Micha Berger, Widen Your Tent.
Panim Yafot, Haazinu 32;49
This is a beautiful message!!