On the third day of Pesach, we read that Moshe asks Hashem to be allowed to see Hashem’s Presence. Hashem responds that Hashem will “make all My goodness pass before you, and I will proclaim before you the name Hashem, and the grace that I grant and the compassion that I show, but you cannot see My face, for a human being may not see Me and live” (Exodus 33:19-20). Hashem then places Moshe in the cleft of the rock, shielding him with Hashem’s hand until Hashem has passed by, allowing Moshe to see Hashem’s back.
What does it do to a person to have such an encounter with Divinity? Moshe was irrevocably changed. The Torah tells us, “So Moshe came down from Mount Sinai. And as Moshe came down from the mountain bearing the two tablets of the Pact, Moshe was not aware that the skin of his face was radiant, since he had spoken with Hashem” (Exodus 34:29). Bnei Yisrael shrank away from Moshe when he descended from the mountain after this encounter with Hashem. Moshe began wearing a veil over his face around the camp except in specific situations. Whether that veil was to prevent the people from feeling fear, to preserve Moshe’s humility, or to protect the sanctity of the radiance for sacred interactions, it had another consequence: Moshe’s veil became a physical barrier between him and Bnei Yisrael.
Moshe had not always been distant. The first time we meet Moshe as an adult, he intervenes to save the Hebrew slave from being beaten by the Egyptian taskmaster (Exodus 2:11-12). Next, he steps in to stop two Hebrews from fighting (Exodus 2:13-14). Finally, Moshe defends Yitro’s daughters from the harassing shepherds (Exodus 2:17). Moshe could not stand idly by while others suffered; he instinctively championed the vulnerable. Despite having been raised in the palace away from society, Moshe naturally related to people, felt their pain, and needed to act immediately to right the wrongs in the world.
Moshe’s innate quality of empathy may even be why he merited to be chosen by Hashem to lead Bnei Yisrael, to speak to Hashem face-to-face, and to receive the Torah. The Yigdal prayer clarifies Moshe’s uniqueness, “There never arose in Israel another like Moshe, a prophet who beheld Hashem’s image.”
Although Moshe started as a “man of the people,” as he grew closer to Hashem, he grew more distant from the people. In our reading, we see the onset of Moshe’s radiance and his adoption of the veil. In other parshiot, we see that the tent in which he answered the people’s questions was literally outside and apart from the camp.
Perhaps we can learn from the tension between Moshe’s two roles—the man who sees Hashem, and the man who sees people. We, of course, cannot experience Hashem as Moshe did. But perhaps by seeing people, we can see Hashem.
From the very beginning of the Torah we read, “Hashem created humankind in the divine image, creating it in the image of Hashem” (Genesis 1:27). Hashem’s creation of people was inherently different from the creation of anything else. People were created “b’tzelem Elokim.” This phrase, which is often translated as “in Hashem’s image,” has stymied commentators for generations because Hashem is not physical and has no image that can be replicated. Classical parshanim explain this phrase to mean our moral capacity, our intelligence, or being created in the image of the angels. The Chassidic understanding is that each human being carries within them a spark of the Divine.
When I first learned this verse as a child, without any commentators to guide me, I understood that Hashem instilled each person with divine qualities. Yet reading the words b’tzelem Elokim with this in mind and walking through the world this way are two different things. If we take this knowledge into how we interact with humanity, I believe it can be life changing. If we approach others with empathy, patience, understanding, and compassion, if we choose to interpret their actions with generosity, we begin to see beyond their surface and perceive the Divine spark within them. Truly seeing another person can be akin to glimpsing Hashem.
Every day offers this opportunity to encounter Hashem, not in the heavens, but in the faces around us. By meeting others with openness of heart, we behold that distinct Divine spark that dwells within each person we encounter.
Moshe’s direct encounter with Hashem changed Moshe forever: he radiated light. When we learn to see the Divine aspects within one another—when we let our empathy and compassion shine through—we, too, are irrevocably transformed. This type of seeing and kindness is contagious. When we are transformed, we inevitably change the world around us for good. And in those moments when we truly see another, there is no veil between us and Hashem, and our very actions increase Hashem’s presence in our world.
