Epiphany

April 2, 2010
Rabbi Seymour Rossel

     We read a special portion for Passover. Scholars call this a "theophany," a Greek word meaning a visible appearance or manifestation of a god. Theophany is closely related to the word "epiphany," meaning a sudden perception regarding nature, or meaning a new intuitive grasp of reality caused by an event or sight, or a Eureka moment when something suddenly takes on clarity. An epiphany happens the first time you notice that your son has a five o'clock shadow or your daughter needs form fitting undergarments. And both "theophany" and "epiphany" give us our modern verb "fancy," as when you say "I fancy myself important." The question of whether or not you are important to anyone else is hardly the issue, so long as you fancy yourself important that is an epiphany for you.

     In this reading from the Torah Moses requests a theophany. He asks to behold God's Kavod, a word we usually translate as "Presence" or "Glory." You or I might ask to feel the Presence of God, but Moses is bolder. He wants to see God‘s  Presence.

     God's Presence or Kavod is revealed from time to time. At Sinai the Presence appears to the Israelites as a consuming fire on top of the mountain (Exod. 24:17), leading some scientifically-minded scholars to think that Sinai was a volcano. Usually, God's Presence is revealed in a mass experience. People perceive it in the distance, not close up. And God chooses where and when to reveal it. Here, Moses pleads for a private experience, close-up, and in direct response to his request.

     For anyone else, this request would be supreme chutzpah, but not for Moses. God just told Moses, "You have truly gained My favor and I have singled you out by name." So, Moses dares to ask, saying, "Oh, let me see Your Presence!"

     Naturally, this idea of seeing God made many later commentators uncomfortable. Many, like Maimonides, said that what Moses was actually requesting was an inner, intellectual perception of God's essence. But Nachmanides, who often reads the Torah as having hidden meaning, has exactly the opposite opinion. He says that Moses actually wanted to see God outwardly. And, in our portion, God agrees to Moses' request. God says, "I will make all My goodness pass before you, and I will proclaim before you the name "YHVH." I will grant such grace as I [wish to] grant and I will show such compassion as I [wish to] show. But, you cannot see My face, for a human may not see Me and live."

     Now God tells Moses to stand on top of the mountain and as God's Presence passes by, God will protect Moses in two ways: First, by placing Moses in the cleft of a rock, presumably as a kind of anchor to keep him from falling or being blown off the mountaintop; and, second, by shielding Moses which God proposes to do with God's hand. The hand may be a metaphor for a cloud or a fog or some such, but we get the point. If God is actually present, Moses needs protection. In the same way. we probably should not take the next anthropomorphism literally. God says, "After I pass by, I will take My hand away and you will see My back; but My face must not be seen."

     Moses has to prepare himself for this theophany. He is instructed to prepare by carving two stone tablets for the commandments like the first two that he broke. He alone must carry these to the top of the mountain. So, the next morning, after what was probably an all-nighter carving stone into tablets, Moses returns to the top of Sinai. And, it is written, God came down in a cloud to meet Moses on the mountaintop. God pronounced the four-letter name of God. Then God passed by Moses, and started, Adonai, Adonai, eil rachum v'chanun ... (Exod. 34:6-7), continuing through two verses.

     This self-declaration made by God is an answer to Moses' request to see God. Moses has an epiphany, a sudden perception of what God is all about. Jewish tradition calls God's self-declaration the "thirteen attributes of God," shalosh-esrei middot. We recite this declaration particularly in the synagogue, and especially on the High Holy Days. How we get thirteen attributes from it is somewhat mysterious -- different sources count the attributes differently, but clearly the text says that the way Moses perceives God's Presence is in God's moral behavior. God is just, compassionate, and merciful. God is slow to anger, kind, and faithful. God is forgiving of sin, but stern in enforcing appropriate punishment for sin. And God reckons the generations as deserving either good or bad based upon what their ancestors do. In other words, every human act has repercussions for our children.

     All of this is fascinating to me. But, of course, I am a Bible-aholic! Not everyone finds delight in every word of the Torah. But since we have just recited the story of the Exodus in our Passover Haggadah, one thing may strike you as very interesting. Our Haggadah was written in such a way as to remove Moses from the story of Passover. In the entire Haggadah, compiled through all the years which have passed since the days of the Second Temple, Moses' name appears only once in passing. If you blink once, you might miss Moses!

     Yet, the very same rabbis who constructed the basics of the Haggadah, also mandated that we read this section on the occasion of the Sabbath during Passover, a section which focuses entirely on God's intimacy with Moses, the greatest of all Israelite prophets, our teacher and role model, the paradigm of the kind of person that God singles out by name.

     So we end up with both sides of a very complicated picture. On one side, the implication is that nothing accomplished in the Exodus depended on the presence of Moses. On the other side, the implication is that Moses was the keystone of the entire Exodus, so much so that God relates to Moses one on one, intimately, even doing what Moses asks God to do. Can both be true pictures?

     Let me tell you about a famous sea captain, beloved by all. His junior officers noticed that, from time to time, the captain would reach in the left pocket of his pea coat, take out a slip of paper, and read it. At other times, he would take a slip of paper from the right pocket of his pea coat and read it. They became convinced that the secret to the captain's success was contained on these two slips of paper. While he was alive, they respectfully refrained from quizzing him, but when the captain died, they immediately pulled the two slips of paper from his pea coat. Imagine their surprise! Each piece of paper had only one word written on it. From the right pocket came the word "Starboard." And from the left pocket came the word "Port."

     We all need to get our bearings in the world. Moses is said to be humble, so he would not mind the whole story of Exodus without him. But Moses was also so important that no story of Exodus would be complete without him.

     As Rabbi Simha Bunam taught: Jews should always wear two pockets. In your right pocket, you should carry a slip of paper with the words, "The world was created for my sake." In your left pocket, you should carry a slip of paper with the words, "I am but dust and ashes." When you feel high and mighty, you should reach into your left pocket and remind yourself, "I am but dust and ashes." But when the world seems too great a burden to bear, you should reach into your right pocket and remind yourself, "The world was created for my sake." And let that be an epiphany for you, as we say: Amen.