It's a story of intense longing, divine protection, and a glimpse into the unknowable.

Imagine Moses, up on Mount Sinai. He's already had quite the encounter with the Almighty, receiving the Torah and acting as an intermediary for the Jewish people. But he desires something more. He wants to see God's glory, to truly understand.

But here's the thing: even the angels, who constantly minister before God, day and night, can't fully comprehend or witness His glory. They see Moses, a mortal, a being "born of woman," aspiring to something they themselves can’t achieve, and they are… not pleased. According to Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer, they rose up in "wrath and excitement" ready to strike him down!

So, what does God do? Does He chastise Moses for his audacity? No. Instead, God intervenes. The text describes it as the "seventh descent," a moment where the divine comes down to meet the human. God reveals Himself in a cloud, as it says in Exodus 34:5, "And the Lord descended in the cloud."

But even that wasn't enough to protect Moses from the sheer intensity of the divine presence. He needed something more… a shield.

God protects Moses with the "hollow of His hand," preventing him from being consumed. image for a moment. It's an incredible act of intimacy and protection. The verse in Exodus 33:22 tells us, "And it shall come to pass, while my glory passeth by, that I will put thee in a cleft of the rock, and I will cover thee with my hand."

This protection is temporary. When God passes by, He removes His hand, and Moses sees the "traces of the Shekhinah," the divine presence. Exodus 33:23 says, "And I will take away mine hand, and thou shalt see my back." He doesn't see God's face, the full glory, but rather an afterimage, a glimpse.

The experience overwhelms Moses. He cries out with a loud voice, reciting the thirteen attributes of mercy, "O Lord, O Lord, a God full of compassion and gracious…" (Exodus 34:6). It's a moment of profound realization. He understands, perhaps, that the full glory is too much for a human to bear, but that even a glimpse of the divine is enough to inspire awe and a deeper connection.

What does this story tell us? It reminds us of the inherent limitations of human understanding when it comes to the divine. We can strive, we can yearn, but there will always be a veil. Yet, even a glimpse, a trace, can be transformative. And, perhaps more importantly, it speaks to God's compassion. Even when we reach for the impossible, He is there to protect us, to guide us, and to reveal what we are capable of understanding.

The story from Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer invites us to consider what "glory" means to us, and what it means to seek it out. What are we truly searching for, and are we prepared for what we might find?