We often think of it as a moment of pure revelation, of divine gift-giving. But some ancient stories paint a picture far more…intense. A picture of near annihilation and miraculous revival.
Imagine this: Moses leads the people out to meet God. Yahweh descends upon Mount Sinai, as described in Exodus 19:20. And in that moment, the entire world holds its breath. Total silence. No sound, no movement. Just…expectation.
Then, God unveils Himself. Not in some gentle whisper, but in a full-blown, awe-inspiring display of power and glory. The Zohar tells us that God opened the portals of the seven firmaments – imagine that! – appearing in His full stature, crowned and enthroned. And when He spoke, thunder and lightning erupted from His mouth.
The effect on the Israelites? Utter terror. According to this midrashic tradition, they fled in horror, running twelve miles until their hearts simply gave out. Their souls, the very essence of their being, departed. They all lay dead.
Can you imagine the scene? An entire nation, lifeless at the foot of the mountain.
Then, the Torah itself speaks! It turns to God and asks, "Master of the Universe! Are You giving me to the living or to the dead?" A powerful question, isn't it? God replies, "To the living." But the Torah points out the obvious: "But they are all dead!"
And God, in His infinite mercy, responds, "For your sake I will revive them."
This is where the story takes an even more incredible turn. God sends the dew of life, a mystical substance, down from heaven. As soon as it touches the people, they are restored to life, filled with strength and courage. This detail, found in various sources including Exodus Rabbah, suggests a profound connection between the Torah and the very essence of life itself. It’s why, according to this tradition, the Torah will advocate for the resurrection of the dead in the End of Days.
But even revived, the people were still trembling, too afraid to even look up at the Divine Presence. So, God sends a legion of ministering angels – one hundred and twenty myriads of them, no less! That's 1.2 million angels! According to this midrash, found in sources like Pirkei de-Rabbi Eliezer, each person received two angels. One to gently still their heart, preventing it from giving out again. The other to lift their head, allowing them to behold the splendor of their Creator.
Awestruck, yet comforted by the angels, they finally gazed upon God's glory. Then, the pivotal question: "Will you accept the Torah?" And the resounding answer: "Yes!"
At that moment, the story continues, God opened up the seven heavens and the seven earths, allowing all of Israel to see from one end of the universe to the other. And God declared, "Behold that there is none like Me in heaven or on earth." And they saw, with their own eyes, that it was true.
This haunting myth, retold in Tree of Souls by Howard Schwartz and sourced from texts like Midrash Aseret ha-Dibrot (Midrash of the Ten Commandments), offers a powerful commentary on the giving of the Torah. It wasn't just a moment of divine revelation; it was a moment of profound transformation, of near-death and miraculous rebirth. It emphasizes the sheer overwhelming power of God's presence and the absolute necessity of divine intervention to make that encounter bearable, even life-giving.
Midrash Aseret ha-Dibrot, dating back to around the ninth century and considered the first story anthology in Jewish literature, frames this narrative as a commentary on the first commandment: "I am the Lord your God" (Exodus 20:2). The presence of the two angels, each reciting verses from Deuteronomy (4:35, 4:39) affirming God's uniqueness, reinforces this central theme.
What does this story tell us? Perhaps it's a reminder that encountering the Divine is never easy. It can be overwhelming, even terrifying. But it also holds the potential for profound renewal, for a glimpse into the very fabric of existence. And maybe, just maybe, we all need a little angelic help to truly open our hearts and minds to the wonder and awe of it all.