In the book of Exodus, Moses has that very experience. But it's not quite what you might expect.
The text tells us, "He said: I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. Moses hid his face, for he was afraid of looking at God" (Exodus 3:6). Seems straightforward, right? But the rabbis of the Shemot Rabbah, a classical collection of Midrashic interpretations on the Book of Exodus, love to dig deeper. They ask, why this introduction? Why "the God of your father" first?
One interpretation hinges on the Hebrew word peti, which appears in Proverbs 14:15: "A fool [peti] believes everything." What, you might wonder, does a fool have to do with Moses' encounter with God? Well, the rabbis connect peti with naivete, even likening it to a young lad – in Arabia, they supposedly called a lad petaya. Others see in peti an element of seduction, referencing Exodus 22:15, "If a man seduces [yefateh] a woman."
Rabbi Yehoshua Ha-Kohen bar Neḥemya offers a fascinating idea: At that moment, Moses was a novice at prophecy. God, being all-knowing, understood this. "If I appear to him in loud voice," God reasoned, "I will terrify him; in soft voice, he will take prophecy lightly." So, what did God do? He appeared to Moses with the voice of his father. Imagine Moses' surprise. "Here I am," he might have thought, "what does Abba want?" (Abba being the Aramaic term for father, a term Jews still use today). But God quickly clarifies: "I am not your father [Amram], but rather the God of your father. I have come to you with inducements so you will not be afraid."
Think about that for a moment. God, in essence, meets Moses where he is, using a familiar and comforting approach to ease him into this extraordinary encounter. It's a deeply human touch, isn't it?
The text continues, "The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob." Moses, according to the Midrash, was overjoyed. "Abba is enumerated with the patriarchs! Moreover, he is greater, as he was mentioned first!" After all, God did introduce Himself as "the God of your father" before naming the patriarchs. But then, the verse tells us, "Moses hid his face." He thought, "The God of my father is standing here, and I am not hiding my face?"
Now, here's where things get really interesting. Rabbi Yehoshua ben Korḥa and Rabbi Hoshaya debate Moses' action. One opinion suggests that Moses messed up! Had he not hidden his face, the Holy One, blessed be He, would have revealed to him "what is above, what is below, what was, and what is destined to be." The ultimate secrets of the universe! Later, when Moses requests, "Please show me Your glory" (Exodus 33:18), God responds, "I came to appear to you, and you hid your face. Now I say to you: ‘For man will not see Me and live’ (Exodus 33:20); when I wanted, you did not want." Ouch.
However, Rabbi Yehoshua of Sikhnin, quoting Rabbi Levi, offers a more consoling view: God showed him something nonetheless. And, according to this line of reasoning, Moses was actually rewarded for his humility. As reward for "Moses hid his face," "the Lord spoke to Moses face to face" (Exodus 33:11). As reward for "For he was afraid," "they were afraid to approach him (Exodus 34:30). As reward for "of looking [mehabit]," "and the likeness of the Lord he beholds [yabit]" (Numbers 12:8).
Rabbi Hoshaya the Great doubles down: Moses acted perfectly! God Himself said, "I came to reveal My face to you, and you honored Me and hid your face; by your life, you are destined to be with Me on the mountain for forty days and forty nights, without eating and without drinking, and you are destined to enjoy the aura of the Divine Presence, as it is stated: ‘Moses did not know that the skin of his face glowed’ (Exodus 34:29)." In contrast, Nadav and Avihu, sons of Aaron, "uncovered their heads and feasted their eyes on the aura of the Divine Presence" (Exodus 24:11), yet they were not punished.
So, what are we to make of all this? Was Moses right to hide his face, or did he miss an opportunity? The beauty of these ancient texts is that they don't offer easy answers. Instead, they present us with different perspectives, forcing us to grapple with the complexities of faith, humility, and the very nature of our relationship with the Divine. Perhaps the key takeaway is that approaching the sacred requires a delicate balance of reverence and openness, a willingness to both acknowledge our limitations and to embrace the potential for profound revelation. And maybe, just maybe, sometimes hiding our face is the most profound way to truly see.