That feeling, that tantalizing sense of the infinite… it's central to how we understand HaShem, the Divine.

In Da'at Tevunot, the voice of "Intellect" guides us through some profound ideas. It reminds us that we've now revisited the order of HaShem's actions – all the incredible things He's done since humanity first walked the Earth, as it says in Job (20:4), and everything He promised through the prophets. What becomes overwhelmingly clear, shining like a beacon, is the sheer power of His singularity.

But here’s the thing: while we can grasp the idea of His uniqueness, the Da'at Tevunot points out that His other characteristics, His boundless completeness, remain largely beyond our comprehension. It's not a failing on our part; it’s simply that we lack the capacity to fully contain them. We know He’s wise, but we can’t fathom the full scope of His wisdom. We know He’s all-knowing, but we can’t possibly grasp the entirety of His knowledge.

This echoes the sentiment found in the Prayer of Eliyahu (and echoed in the Tikunei Zohar): "You are wise, and not with knowable wisdom; You are understanding, and not with knowable insight." Think about that for a moment. It’s saying that His qualities aren't just bigger versions of our own; they operate on an entirely different plane.

And because we can’t fully understand these attributes, there’s a natural restriction, a gentle warning against trying to dissect them too deeply. As we find in Chaggigah 13a (quoting Ben Sirah 3:21), "In that which is beyond your comprehension do not seek, in that which is hidden from you do not examine." The Sefer Yetzirah (chapter 1) puts it even more poetically: "If your heart runs – return to your place."

What does it mean for your heart to "run?" Perhaps it signifies when our curiosity becomes a relentless, even arrogant, pursuit of answers that aren't meant to be found, at least not in their entirety. It's a call to humility, a reminder that some mysteries are best left in the realm of wonder and awe.

This isn’t about stifling curiosity, but rather directing it appropriately. Instead of trying to box HaShem into a neat little definition, perhaps we're meant to appreciate the sheer immensity of the Divine, to stand in reverence before the unfathomable. It's about recognizing the limits of our intellect and finding comfort – and even joy – in the mystery. So, the next time you find yourself pondering the unanswerable, remember the lesson of the Da'at Tevunot: sometimes, the most profound understanding comes from simply acknowledging what we can't understand. Maybe that's where true faith begins.