by Lilinaz Evans '27
One of the most striking moments in parshat Ki Tissa is the intimate, direct communication between God and Moshe. The Torah describes their encounter as “face-to-face, as two friends speak” (Shemot 33:11). This imagery evokes a deep and authentic connection, where each party is fully seen, and understood in their uniqueness, reciprocating that recognition in return.
Jewish existentialist philosophers of the 20th century, such as Martin Buber and Emmanuel Levinas, expand on this idea. Buber frames the face-to-face encounter as a model for genuine human relationships, wherein individuals recognize and respond to each other’s full humanity. Levinas, writing in the wake of the Holocaust, emphasizes the vulnerability of the Other, seeing the face as an ethical summons, an undeniable demand for responsibility. Yet, for Levinas, this ethical call is one-sided; the Other demands, and we are obligated to respond.
In our own world marked by both overwhelming conflict and unprecedented digital connection, the face of the Other is inescapable. Even when we are alone, suffering and injustice appear on our screens. And yet, paradoxically, authentic human connection and a commitment to caring for the vulnerable seem increasingly rare, slipping further out of reach.
When reading Ki Tissa this year, I was struck not only by the face-to-face encounter, but also by the hidden faces that follow. After the Torah tells us that Moshe and God spoke face to face, the narrative quickly shifts to moments of concealment. Moshe, yearning for deeper revelation, pleads to see God's glory, but God shields him, allowing him to see only His back: “For no one can see My face and live” (Shemot 33:20-23). Later, when Moshe descends from Har Sinai, his face radiates a dazzling light, a remnant of divine revelation. But this very illumination overwhelms Bnei Yisrael, leading Moshe to veil his face, revealing it only when he returns to speak with God.
These moments of hiddenness are challenging. If face-to-face encounters signify authenticity and truth, do veiled encounters signify distance or superficiality? One might interpret this concealment as a punishment, a withdrawal in response to the sin of the Golden Calf, mirroring the relocation of the Ohel Moed outside the camp. Is hiddenness a rupture in the relationship? A pulling away?
Megillat Esther offers another perspective on divine concealment. God’s name is famously absent from the text, making it the only book in Tanakh where this is the case. The Vilna Gaon, in his commentary on Esther 1:1, explains that in Esther’s story, God's presence is not simply hidden; it is so deeply concealed that people may not even realize it is missing. And yet, this absence is not abandonment. Instead, it is an invitation: to seek God in the details of history, in the unfolding of human events, and in moments where His presence is not immediately obvious.
Returning to Ki Tissa, it becomes clear that God's hiddenness (and by extension, Moshe’s) may not be an act of separation but rather one of care. In a world overwhelmed by divine revelation, concealment becomes an act of protection. God does not pull away to punish but rather to create the conditions for Bnei Yisrael to engage with the divine in a way they can stand.
Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch articulates this idea beautifully in his commentary on Devarim 31:18: “God's face is hidden, not to cast us away, but to awaken in us a longing for His presence.” In moments when we feel distanced, whether from God, from others, or even from ourselves, perhaps we might frame the hiddenness not as a rejection, but as an invitation to seek, to long, and ultimately, to reconnect.
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Lilinaz was born and raised in South London but her learning has taken her to study in Stockholm, at Paideia-The European Institute for Jewish Studies in Sweden as an Amos Oz Fellow where she found the beauty in small community life, in Jerusalem at Nishmat the Alisa Flatow Post-College Program where she learned Torah is for everyone, and now to New York, where she is excited to learn much more. Before dedicating more time to her learning, Lilinaz had a background in Automation Engineering, specialising in electrical safety.