We often picture the pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night, guiding them, protecting them. But what if I told you there's a tradition that paints an even more intimate picture?
Imagine this: After the Exodus, as it says, "Yahweh went before them" (Exod. 13:21). But instead of a pillar of fire, God Himself carries a lantern, leading His children through the darkness. A lantern.
Think about it. The Midrash, specifically Exodus Kabbah 15:17, brings us this image. It’s such a striking, almost unbelievable image, isn’t it? A giant figure, God, striding through the wilderness, holding a lantern high.
Why a lantern? Well, the Talmud in B. Avodah Zarah 11a tells us that God escorted his descendants those forty long years. He was like a father holding a torch for his son, or a master for his servant. The Mekhilta de-Rabbi Ishmael, be-Shallah 1:215-, 225, elaborates on this idea. It wasn't just about guidance; it was about showing the world how much He cared for the children of Israel. God Himself went before them so that other nations would treat them with respect.
Now, Rashi, the great medieval commentator, adds his insight. He says, in his commentary on Exodus 13:21, that "God Himself, in His glory, led the cloud before them." But even Rashi's acknowledgment of God’s direct presence doesn’t quite capture the sheer intimacy of the lantern image.
Of course, we can interpret this metaphorically. The lantern, as always, could represent God illuminating their path, providing wisdom and understanding. But even that allegorical reading can't diminish the raw, powerful image.
It's a profoundly anthropomorphic image, isn't it? Attributing human characteristics to the Divine. A pillar of cloud or fire can conceal God's presence, but a lantern? That's a deliberate act, a visible display of care.
So, what does it all mean? Perhaps it's a reminder that even in the vastness of the desert, even in the face of unimaginable challenges, God was – and is – close. Closer than we might imagine. Holding a lantern, lighting our way, one step at a time. And isn't that a comforting thought, as we navigate our own wildernesses?