And the Torah, in its own way, grapples with this very question.

We find ourselves in the Book of Exodus, a pivotal moment in the story of the Israelites. Moses is about to ascend Mount Sinai to receive the Torah, the Divine instructions that will guide the nation. But before that happens, something incredible occurs.

God instructs Moses, as we read in Exodus 24:1, to ascend the mountain, not alone, but "with Aaron, Nadab, and Abihu, and 70 elders of Israel." Imagine that scene! A select group, hand-picked to witness something extraordinary. They are told to bow low from afar, with Moses alone drawing nearer to the Divine Presence.

Then, Exodus 24:9-11 recounts what happens next. "Then Moses and Aaron, Nadab and Abihu, and seventy elders of Israel ascended, and they saw the God of Israel." Can you imagine the awe, the wonder, the sheer disbelief? What did they see? The Torah gives us a hint: "Under His feet there was the likeness of a pavement of sapphire, like the very sky for purity." A breathtaking vision of brilliant blue, a foundation of unimaginable beauty upon which the Divine Presence rested.

But here's the truly astonishing part: "Yet He did not raise His hand against the leaders of the Israelites; they beheld God, and they ate and drank." They ate and drank in God's presence! It's an image of intimacy, of communion, that defies easy explanation.

This raises a fundamental question, doesn't it? How can this be reconciled with other verses, like Exodus 33:20, where God warns Moses, "You cannot see My face, for man may not see me and live?" It seems like a direct contradiction.

The commentators offer various interpretations. Rashi, the great medieval French commentator, suggests that because they saw God, they deserved death. It was a transgression, a glimpse into something forbidden. However, God, in His infinite mercy, chose to overlook their transgression, not wanting to mar the joy of receiving the Torah.

So, what was the purpose of this extraordinary event? Why were these elders granted this vision? The text implies it was to convince them – and by extension, the entire nation – that God truly exists, and that the Torah that Moses was about to receive was a work of truth, a genuine communication from the Divine. It was a moment of profound validation, a tangible experience of the Divine Presence.

This episode in Exodus invites us to contemplate the nature of Divine revelation. Is it always mediated through prophets and texts? Or can there be moments, however rare, when we glimpse the Divine directly, in a way that transcends our ordinary understanding? It’s a question that resonates even today, as we seek to connect with the sacred in our own lives.