The answer, as often in Jewish tradition, is layered with meaning.
Think about it: God spoke to Moses face-to-face, more clearly than to any other prophet. Yet, when Moses asks to see God's full glory, the request is denied. Why?
The simple answer, according to God Himself, is a matter of timing. "When I revealed Myself to thee in the burning bush," God says, "thou didst not want to look upon Me; now thou are willing, but I am not." There's a certain irony, isn't there? Moses, initially hesitant, now yearns for the ultimate vision.
But there's more to it than just divine scheduling. The Legends of the Jews expands on this, painting a vivid picture of the scene. The cave where Moses hid, the very same one where Elijah later sought refuge on Horeb (Mount Sinai), becomes a focal point. Imagine the intensity! We're told that even the tiniest opening would have been enough to incinerate both prophets with the passing divine light.
Even shielded in the cave, Moses wasn't entirely protected. According to Ginzberg's retelling in Legends of the Jews, the reflection of God's glory was so potent that it made Moses' face shine. It's this radiance that we remember, the visible sign of his connection to the Divine.
But acquiring this distinction wasn’t without peril. The angels, those celestial beings who serve God constantly, were not pleased. "We, who serve Thee night and day, may not see Thy glory," they exclaimed, "and he, who is born of woman, asks to see it!" Can you feel their indignation? They saw Moses’ request as audacious, even blasphemous.
The angels, enraged, prepared to strike down Moses. He was in mortal danger, saved only by God's direct intervention. Legends of the Jews makes it clear: without God's protection, Moses would have been utterly destroyed. Then, amidst this celestial drama, God appeared in the cloud.
What does all this mean? Perhaps it’s about the limitations of human perception. We, mortal beings, can only glimpse fragments of the divine reality. Maybe it's about earning spiritual insight. Moses' shining face wasn’t just a gift; it was a testament to his dedication, his willingness to stand in the presence of the unknowable, even at great personal risk. As we find in Midrash Rabbah, true connection to the divine is not about seeing everything, but about experiencing what we can with humility and awe.
So, the next time you think about Moses on Mount Sinai, remember the burning bush, the hidden cave, and the furious angels. Remember that even the greatest prophets could only perceive a fraction of God's glory. And maybe, just maybe, that's enough.