It’s a question that echoes through the ages, and our sages have pondered it in countless ways. Let's delve into a fascinating interpretation from Bamidbar Rabbah, specifically section 19, that touches on this very idea.

The verse from Ecclesiastes 8:1, "Who is like the wise man, and who knows the meaning of a matter?" serves as our starting point. Who is like the wise man? According to this Midrash, it's none other than the Holy One, blessed be He! Think about it: "The Lord founded the earth with wisdom," as Proverbs 3:19 reminds us. God’s wisdom isn't just an attribute; it's the very foundation of creation.

And "who knows the meaning of a matter?" Again, the answer points to the Divine. It is the Holy One who explained the Torah to Moses himself.

Then comes another verse, "The wisdom of a man illuminates his face" (Ecclesiastes 8:1). Rabbi Yudan offers a powerful insight here: Great is the ability of the prophets who can even liken the image of the greatness On High to the form of a person. He points to the verse in Daniel 8:16, "I heard the voice of a man by the Ulai," which is understood as a reference to the voice of God. Rabbi Yehuda ben Rabbi Simon adds to this, drawing from Ezekiel 1:26: "And upon the likeness of the throne was a likeness, like the appearance of a man, upon it from above." It’s a mind-bending concept, isn't it? That the Divine can, in some way, be perceived through human forms and expressions.

But the interpretation doesn't stop there. "And the boldness of his face is changed" (Ecclesiastes 8:1) is understood as God changing from the attribute of justice to the attribute of mercy for the sake of Israel. This idea of God's attributes shifting—particularly from justice to mercy—is a recurring theme in Jewish thought, reflecting the dynamic relationship between the Divine and humanity.

Now, here's where the story takes a particularly interesting turn. Rabbi Yehoshua of Sikhnin, in the name of Rabbi Levi, shares an anecdote about Moses. The Midrash relates that with every matter God spoke to Moses, He explained both its means of impurity and its means of purification. But when God reached the portion of "Say to the priests" (Leviticus 21:1) – which deals with the prohibition against a priest becoming impure through contact with a corpse – Moses had a question. If a priest does become impure, how is he to be purified?

And here’s the kicker: God didn't answer him!

Imagine Moses, the great lawgiver, standing before the Divine Presence, his face paling with uncertainty. He doesn't get an answer.

Then, later, when God reaches the portion of the red heifer (parah adumah) in Numbers 19:17 – the ritual involving the ashes of a red heifer used for purification – God reveals the answer. He says to Moses, "At that moment when I said to you the portion of 'Say to the priests,' and you said to Me: With what will his purification be effected, I did not answer you. This is his purification: 'They shall take for the impure from the ashes of the burning of the purification.'"

Why the delay? Why the initial silence? The Midrash doesn't explicitly say, but it invites us to consider the nature of divine teaching, the process of learning, and perhaps even the importance of grappling with unanswered questions before the answer can truly be understood. It suggests that sometimes, the path to wisdom involves a period of uncertainty, a moment of questioning, before the light of understanding dawns.

So, what does this all mean for us? Perhaps it's a reminder that wisdom isn't just about knowing the answers, but also about knowing how to ask the right questions. And sometimes, the most profound learning comes from the moments when we don't yet have all the answers. The Divine teaches us, not just through pronouncements, but also through the spaces between them.