February 5, 2021
The Sinai Experience
Yitro, 5781
The revelation at Sinai in which Hashem revealed the law to the Jewish people was a wondrous moment that was the central experience in the formation of our people. Indeed, the Talmud indicates that every Jewish soul for all eternity is believed to have stood at Sinai and heard the word of God (Shavuot, 39a).
Dr. Leon Kass raises two important questions about the Sinai experience (Founding God’s Nation, 303-304).
First, why does Moshe first go up Mount Sinai only to then descend and warn the people “not to gaze at Hashem lest they die” (19:21)? Since everyone is gathered at the foot of Sinai, what is the problem with gazing?
Second, there are many sounds and visual effects at Sinai. Thus, Dr. Kass raises the question: “How, among the multiple voices—the thunder, horn, Moses’s God’s—can the people or the reader discern the voice of the Lord?”
In rabbinic tradition the Benei Yisrael did not actually hear much from God at Sinai. The Talmud notes that they only heard two commandments from Hashem, and the other 611 were heard from Moshe Rabbenu (Makkot, 24a).
Rashi writes:
“When Moshe was speaking and proclaiming the Commandments to Israel — for they heard from the Almighty’s mouth only the first two Commandments, while the others were promulgated by Moshe — then Hashem assisted him by giving him strength so that his voice might be powerful and so become audible (Mekhilta d'Rabbi Yishmael 19:19:2; Rashi 19:19).
Since the Benei Yisrael barely heard anything that morning from Hashem, what was the reason for the prohibition against gazing?
Moshe himself is also told only to look at the back of Hashem and not the face (Shemot, 33:23). It seems therefore that gazing at Hashem is highly inappropriate behavior. So too, gazing–even at a wicked person--in rabbinic tradition is associated with inappropriate behavior (Megillah, 28a). Indeed, even against earthly kings there is often a prohibition against gazing, how much more so must one never have the arrogance to gaze at the King of Kings.
So one reason why the Jewish people are told at Sinai not to gaze, is because gazing is a sign or arrogance or power. And arrogance is the opposite message of Sinai. A fundamental teaching of Sinai is that the Jewish people in order to fully absorb the message of Sinai must embrace the concept of humility and fully accepting Hashem’s law.
The association between Sinai and humility is seen in the following midrash in which Hashem selects Sinai not because it is the tallest or mightiest mountain, but specifically because it is the most humble of all mountains.
"A mountain of God is the mountain of Bashan" (Tehillim 68:16). R. Natan said: Since the Holy One, blessed be He, wanted to give the Torah to Israel, Carmel came from Aspamia and Tavor from Beit Eilim… This one said: I was called Mount Tavor. It would be fitting for the Shekhina to rest upon me, for I am higher than all the other mountains, and the waters of the flood did not come down on me. And this one said: I was called Mount Carmel. It would be fitting for the Shekhina to rest upon me, because I was placed in the middle, and they crossed the sea over me. The Holy One, blessed be He, said: You have already been disqualified before Me because of your haughtiness! You are all disqualified before Me… All of the mountains began to thunder and to collapse, as it is stated: "The mountains quaked at the presence of the Lord" (Shoftim 5:5). The Holy One, blessed be He, said: "Why look you askance [tirtzedun]" (Tehillim 68:17)? Why do you wish to be judged [tirtzu ladun] with Sinai? You are all "mountains of peaks [gavnunim]" (ibid.). As it is stated: "Or crook-backed [gibben], or a dwarf" (Vayikra 21:20). "At the mountain which God has desired for His abode" (Tehillim 68:17) – I desire nothing but Sinai, which is lower than all of you, as it is stated: "I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit" (Yeshayahu 57:15). And it is written: "For though the Lord be high, yet he regards the lowly" (Tehillim 138:6). (Midrash Tehillim 68)
The message of the Midrash is that Hashem dwells only with the humble and that is why the Torah was given at Sinai.
Some commentators connect this theme with a story in the Talmud about a rabbi who was given the nickname, Sinai.
“Rabbi Yoḥanan taught: One time there was a disagreement between Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel and the Rabbis about which skill was considered greater—Sinai or Uprooter of Mountains. One said: Sinai. And one said: One who uproots mountains.
Rav Yosef was called Sinai; Rabba was called one who uproots mountains. They sent a message from Babylonia to the land of Israel: Which one takes precedence—Sinai or Uprooter of Mountains? They sent back in response: Sinai is preferable, as the Master said: Everyone requires the owner of the wheat. Even so, Rav Yosef did not accept upon himself to be the head [of the community.] Rabba reigned for twenty-two years, and then Rav Yosef reigned. The Gemara relates that in all those years that Rabba presided, Rav Yosef did not even call a bloodletter to his home (Horayot, 14a).
According to Rashi--and this has become the regnant interpretation of the story--
Rav Yosef is called Sinai because he like is one who has all the sources arranged in his mind as though it were given in that manner at Sinai. Whereas Rabbah is called Uprooter of Mountains because he is sharp and incisive, without the same command of all the sources. When the Talmud says that “everyone needs the master of wheat;” it refers to Rav Yosef, since everything is arranged in his mind as though they were given in that manner at Sinai.
However, Maharsha offers an alternative explanation. He cites the midrash that Sinai is the most humble of all mountains and therefore suggests that Rav Yosef’s great humility is the reason he was preferred to Rabbah in the same manner that Sinai is preferrable to the other mountains that surrounded Sinai. While the other mountains were boasting and preening, Sinai alone did not claim greatness, but rather submitted itself to Hashem. So too, while some choose to demonstrate their intellectual dynamism, the tuly great will submit themselves to Hashem (see commentary to Horayot, 13b).
All this is to support the idea that the reason why the Jewish people are told not to gaze while standing at Sinai is to emphasize that they must always act with humility. Sinai is the definition of humility.
But there is also a different way to understand the prohibition against gazing. Perhaps the reason why the Jewish people are told not to gaze is that there is a very big problem with gazing. People who gaze at something often think they understand what they are seeing. But when it comes to Hashem the more we gaze the less we understand. Knowledge of Hashem and of our role in the world comes ultimately from introspection and meditation not superficial gazing.
In our Haftorah for Yitro, Isaiah reports that Hashem tells him:
“Go, say to that people: ‘Hear, indeed, but do not understand; See, indeed, but do not grasp’” (Isaiah, 6:9). People see and hear but they understand nothing.
Instead, Isaiah tells us that that to come close to Hashem we must
“Stop the ears, and seal the eyes,” instead the “mind must understand,” and then it can “repent and save itself” (Isaiah, 6:10).
Repentance, and therefore redemption, can only be achieved when we go beyond the eyes and the ears and look into our hearts and minds.
In this context the message of Sinai is the opposite of the teaching that Sinai requires that we submit with complete humility to the objective text. Rather, the message of Sinai is that we each must discover inside our own souls the unique message that Hashem is sending us.
Maybe the connotation of Sinai is not only the one who is most humble but also the one who hears a personal and individual calling to the words of the Torah.
As the Siftei Kohen of Rabbi Mordechai Cohen teaches: “The Anokhi commandment is said in the singular because the recognition of Hashem and any understanding of God is not able to be the same in different people. Each person understands God differently ccording to their own spiritual abilities. Thus, every individual has a different understanding of Anokhi.”
There is a powerful Chassidic story that makes this point.
One time Rabbi Yechezkel of Kozmir was sitting at a meal with his students on the yarhtzeit of Rav Levi Yitzcha of Berditchev. The Rebbe of Kozmir asked: Perhaps there is someone here who knew Rav Levi Yitzchak personally?
The students searched and searched until they found an old, poor man from the town of Zelikov. They brought this man to the Rebbe of Kozmir and the Rebbe asked him: Did you really know Rav Levi Yitzchak from when he was a rabbi in Zelikov?
The old man said, “Indeed, and I will tell you an incredible story about him. When Rav Levi Yitzchak was the Rav of Zelikov he used to travel around the forests near Zelikov during the week of Chanukah and collect money for poor people. I lived then in a village near Zelikov and the rabbi came to my house one night and I gave him tzedakah. The rabbi wanted to go home, but by then it was too dark, so he asked to sleep in my house. I told him that I didn’t really have space for him but I managed to find a small and tight area where he could lay down. I asked him not to disturb me. Sure enough in the middle of the night the rabbi woke up and was busy as a bee moving all over the house and muttering words to himself. I couldn’t sleep a wink! I thanked Hashem when morning came and the rabbi went on his way. A few months later, the landlord came to my house. He told me that I owed a significant amount of back rent and that not only was he not renewing my lease but that he was also demanding that I pay him the money I owed him. He said I had two weeks left to stay. I had no idea what to do. I was crying all night. In the morning I decided to travel to Rav Levi Yitzchak and ask him for help. I said to myself: ‘I once did a favor for Rav Levi Yitzchak. Maybe he can do a favor for me too. So I went to Rav Levi Yitzchak and told him the story.’
Rav Levi Yitzchak asked me to bring him a blank piece of paper. The rabbi took the piece of paper and went to his room and remained there for around 15 minutes. Afterwards he came out from the room, and he gave me the piece of paper folded up like a letter. He said: ‘Take this to your landlord.’ So I set out for the landlord. But on the way I started to have misgivings. I was thinking, what could he have possibly written. I didn’t even see a quill or ink in the room!
So I took the paper and opened it up. To my total shock the paper was completely blank. Nothing at all was written on it! I didn’t know what to do. I thought for sure the landlord would get incredibly angry at me. On the other hand, I didn’t really have a choice. So I brought the paper to the landlord and as I gave it to him I said, ‘Here is a note from Rav Levi Yitzchak.’
The landlord opened the note and looked at it closely for several minutes. Finally he put down the note and looked at me. He said, “Ok. I will fogive all your back rent. Just please be sure to pay on time from now on.”
I was again shocked beyond words. I quickly ran back to Rav Levi Yitzchak and told him the good news. He sasked me to tell him exactly what happened. He then said to me: ‘My beloved friend—tell me the truth. Did you open the note before you gave it to him?’ I was embarrassed but I admitted that I had indeed opened the note. He resonded: ‘Oy! What a terrible mistake! If only you hadn’t opened the note, the landlord would have given you the entire house to keep!’” (Kitsis, Fifty Readings in Hassidic Stores, 59-62).
Zeev Kitsis explains that this story relates to a talmudic text that is a commentary on the Ten Commandments (Kitsis, 62).
In this story the letter can be read only for the one for whom it is written. Rav Levi Yitzchak placed on the piece a paper a message intended only for the landlord. So too, regarding the Ten Commandments the Talmud states:
“Rabbi Yoḥanan himself said that the word anokhi that begins the Ten Commandments is an abbreviation for: I myself wrote and gave, ana nafshi ketivat yehavit” (Shabbat,105a).
It is the soul of Hashem that animates the letters -- ana nafshi ketivat yehavit. The text is not a dead object, but a living entity for which life has been breathed into. Each person will read the letters in accordance with their own soul. It is not a standard text, but rather a highly subjectve message for each person.
The tension between humility and individual creativity is the tension necessary to have a powerful spiritual relationship with our creator. On the one hand we must have enormous humility before our Creator. However, on the other hand that humility should lead us to enormous creativity and towards hearing a personal call from Hashem. These two tensions stood in perfect harmony – like not other time in the world – at Sinai.
Shmuel Herzfeld
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You can now watch a Youtube recording of Rabbi Herzfeld’s D'var Torah:
https://youtu.be/Swws4KSMa-4
