Moses certainly did.

In the book of Exodus (33:18-23), we find Moses pleading with God, "Oh, let me behold Your presence!" It's a raw, human moment. Can you imagine the courage, the sheer chutzpah, it would take to ask such a thing? But God's response is… complicated.

God says, "I will make all My goodness pass before you, and I will proclaim before you the name Lord, and the grace that I grant and the compassion that I show." A beautiful promise, right? But then comes the kicker: "You cannot see My face, for man may not see Me and live."

Ouch.

It gets even stranger. God continues, "See, there is a place near Me. Station yourself on the rock and, as My Presence passes by, I will put you in a cleft of the rock and shield you with My hand until I have passed by. Then I will take My hand away and you will see My back; but My face must not be seen."

God's back? What are we to make of this?

This passage establishes a pretty fundamental principle: "you cannot see My face, for man may not see Me and live." It's a recurring theme in Jewish thought – the sheer, overwhelming power and holiness of God is simply too much for mortal eyes to behold directly. But the idea of God having a "back" is fascinating. It immediately gives us a very… human image of the Divine. This kind of description, giving human characteristics to God, is called anthropomorphism.

Of course, that's not the whole story. As with many things in Jewish tradition, there are exceptions, or at least, stories that seem to contradict this idea. There's a famous midrash (a rabbinic story that expands on the Bible) where Moses ascends to the heavens and speaks to God face to face as God is seated upon His throne. It's a mind-bending image, isn't it? (You can read more about this in "The Ascent of Moses.")

But let's get back to that image of God's back. The suggestion that God even has a face and a back goes a long way in creating this anthropomorphic image. But there's clearly more going on here than just a literal description.

The idea of only seeing God's back hints at something deeper – that much of God's nature, of the Divine, must remain unknowable to us. We can only glimpse a part, a fleeting impression, as He passes by. We can understand some of God's attributes - His mercy, His justice, His power. But the totality? That remains hidden.

Interestingly, this whole episode with Moses is echoed in the story of Elijah in 1 Kings (19:5-12). There, Elijah also seeks God, not in grand displays of power, but in "a still, small voice." (See "A Still, Small Voice.") The message seems to be that encountering God is often about catching glimpses, about being present for the subtle moments when His presence is revealed, rather than expecting a full, direct revelation.

So, what are we left with? A God who is both intimately involved in our lives and ultimately beyond our full comprehension. A God whose face we cannot see, but whose "back" – whose passing presence – we can perceive if we are open to it. Perhaps the challenge isn't to see God's face, but to recognize His presence in the world around us, even in the moments when we only catch a glimpse of His… well, you know.