It’s a question that's sparked debate and interpretation for centuries. Today, we're diving into Bereshit Rabbah 45, a fascinating passage from the Midrash that grapples with just that.
The verse in question is from Genesis 16:13, when Hagar, after fleeing from Sarai, says, "She called the name of the Lord Who spoke to her: You are the God who sees me, for she said: Indeed, I have seen here too, after my vision.” It seems straightforward enough, right? God spoke to Hagar. But the rabbis of the Midrash, never ones to shy away from a good theological wrestling match, aren't so sure it's that simple.
Rabbi Yehuda bar Simon and Rabbi Yoḥanan, quoting Rabbi Elazar bar Shimon, make a rather bold claim: that God never directly spoke to a woman, except for Sarah, and even then, it was only out of necessity. Wait, what? Why this apparent reluctance? Well, the Midrash gives us an example. Remember when God told Abraham that Sarah would have a child, and she laughed? (Genesis 18:13). When confronted, Sarah denied laughing (Genesis 18:15). God then had to correct her: “No, but you did laugh” (Genesis 18:15).
Rabbi Abba, citing Rabbi Beiri, points out how even in this instance, God spoke "in a roundabout manner." Instead of a direct "Yes, you laughed," God phrases it indirectly. But what about Hagar? And what about Rebecca, when God tells her that two nations are in her womb? (Genesis 25:23).
Here’s where things get interesting. Rabbi Yehoshua bar Neḥemya suggests that in Hagar’s case, it was an angel, not God directly, who spoke to her. Rabbi Levi, quoting Rabbi Ḥanina bar Ḥama, makes the same argument about Rebecca. And Rabbi Elazar, in the name of Rabbi Yosei ben Zimra, proposes that Rebecca actually consulted with Shem, son of Noah, who was considered a spiritual leader at the time. These interpretations attempt to maintain the idea that God doesn't generally speak directly to women.
But what does Hagar mean when she says, "You are the God who sees me?" Rabbi Aivu offers a beautiful interpretation: it is God who sees the wretchedness of the wretched. God sees Hagar in her suffering, her vulnerability. And the phrase "Indeed, I have seen here too, after my vision" is interpreted as Hagar realizing that not only has she encountered divine speech, but she has also been granted a glimpse of her son's future kingship. She connects her experience to that of King David, who similarly felt unworthy of the blessings he received, saying "That You have brought me to this point [halom]" (II Samuel 7:18).
Another interpretation suggests Hagar is marveling that she, along with her mistress, saw an angel, and yet another that she saw an angel by herself. Rabbi Shmuel bar Naḥman illustrates this with a parable: Imagine a noblewoman whom the king asks to pass before him. She walks by, supported by her maidservant. The noblewoman, perhaps out of modesty or awe, turns her face away and doesn't see the king, but the maidservant does.
So, what are we to make of all this? The Midrash isn't giving us a simple answer. It's presenting different perspectives, different ways of understanding the relationship between God and women. It raises profound questions about divine communication, about status, and about who is deemed worthy of direct access to the divine. The rabbis grapple with the text, revealing the complexity and nuance within the Torah. It leaves us to ponder: What does it mean to be seen by God? And how do we each, in our own way, encounter the Divine?