But where is God, exactly? Is He up in the heavens, completely removed from our earthly struggles? Or is He still somehow… here?
The book of Shemot Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Exodus, grapples with this very question. It starts with a seemingly simple phrase – "Moses was herding" – and launches into a profound discussion about God's presence in the world, particularly after the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem.
Rabbi Shmuel bar Naḥman paints a vivid picture: before the Temple's destruction, the Shekhinah, the Divine Presence, resided within its walls, as it says in Habakkuk 2:20, "God was in His sacred Sanctuary." But with the Temple gone? The Divine Presence, according to Rabbi Shmuel, ascended to the heavens, echoing Psalms 103:19: "The Lord established His throne in the heavens." A pretty definitive departure, right?
But hold on! Rabbi Elazar throws a wrench in the works. He insists that the Divine Presence never left the Sanctuary! He points to II Chronicles 7:16: "My eyes and My heart will be there…" and Psalms 3:5: "He answered me from his sacred mountain." Even in ruins, the Temple retains its sanctity. Think about it: Cyrus, the Persian king, even acknowledged, "He is the God who is in Jerusalem" (Ezra 1:3), even though it was in ruins!
And Rabbi Aḥa? He takes it even further, claiming the Divine Presence never moves from the Western Wall. Not even today! He references Song of Songs 2:9, "Behold, he is standing behind our wall," and Psalms 11:4, "His eyes behold, His eyelids assess the sons of man." Even if God seems distant, He's always watching, always present.
So, how do we reconcile these seemingly contradictory views? Is God here, there, or everywhere?
Rabbi Yannai offers an insightful analogy: a king with an orchard and a tall tower. The king employs laborers and declares that the diligent will be rewarded, while the indolent will be punished. The king, of course, is the King of Kings. The orchard is the world, given to Israel to observe the Torah. Observe it, and Paradise awaits. Neglect it, and… well, you know. Even if God appears to withdraw His presence, "His eyes behold, His eyelids test the sons of man." He's always watching, always judging.
But it's not just about judgment. It's about testing, refining. As Psalms 11:5 says, "The Lord will test the righteous." And how does He test us? Through the mundane, the everyday… like sheepherding.
Remember David? God tested him with flocks, and found him a fine shepherd. Psalms 78:70 tells us, "He took him from the sheepfolds." But what does it mean to be a "fine shepherd?" The Midrash, specifically Midrash Rabbah, explains that David would carefully manage his flock, holding back the stronger sheep for the sake of the weaker ones, ensuring each had the right nourishment.
God saw this compassion, this attention to individual needs, and declared: "One who knows how to herd the flocks, each according to its ability, will come and herd My people." Thus, David, the shepherd, became David, the king. "From the suckling ewes He brought him, to herd Jacob His people" (Psalms 78:71).
And then there's Moses. Our Rabbis tell a story of Moses, tending Jethro's flock, when a young kid ran away. Moses pursued it, finding it exhausted and thirsty by a pool of water. Overcome with compassion, Moses carried the kid back on his shoulders. God, witnessing this act of kindness, declared: "You have the compassion to behave with the flocks belonging to flesh and blood in this manner; by your life, you will herd My flock, Israel." And so, "Moses was herding" became the prelude to Moses leading a nation.
So, what's the takeaway? Maybe God isn't always physically present in the way we expect. Maybe the Temple's destruction did create a distance. But the Shemot Rabbah reminds us that God's presence is revealed in the compassion we show, in the way we care for the vulnerable, in the diligence with which we perform even the most ordinary tasks. It’s in those moments that we, like David and Moses, are tested and, hopefully, found worthy to serve. And perhaps, in those moments, we glimpse the Divine, not in some distant heaven, but right here on Earth.