You said, “Behold, Hashem our G-d has shown us His glory and His greatness, and we have heard His voice…This day we saw that Hashem will speak to a person, and he can live. But now…if we we continue to hear the voice of Hashem our G-d any longer, we will die![2]
This is quite confusing. The verses seem to contradict each other. First the Bnei Yisrael report their pleasant surprise that, contrary to what they would have thought, witnessing Hashem’s glory and hearing His voice directly did not prove fatal to them. What a relief! But no sooner does this revelation dawn upon them, that they reach the opposite conclusion. Uh-oh. This direct communication will be our undoing. If we don’t pull the plug on it, we are doomed!
Equally puzzling is their proposal to Moshe. “You should approach and hear whatever Hashem our G-d shall say, and you should speak to us…then we shall hear and we shall do.”[3] The people had earned eternal acclaim for saying naaseh v’nishmah before receiving the Torah. Why do they invert the order, and place hearing before doing?
Furthermore, Hashem heaps praise upon them for their reticence. “Who can assure that his heart should remain theirs, to fear Me and observe all my commandments?”[4] He lauds their fear. Now, clearly they were afraid. But fearing death because of the overpowering experience of Hashem’s presence is not the same as the yir’as Hashem that is so important in our avodah. The former is really quite primitive and instinctual; the latter is the result of a serious appreciation of His majesty. Why was Hashem so pleased with their fear of death?
We’ve overlooked one important element so far. The day of matan Torah was special in several ways. On that day, according to Chazal, they saw what ordinarily could only be heard. In other words, their sensory modalities were all elevated to the point of perfection; there were no barriers to their perception. They became like the ministering angels. All of this as a consequence of declaring naaseh v’nishmah.
What would happen the next day? Many felt that they would not be able to hold on to this madregah. It had worked for that magic moment, but it was not reasonable that they could maintain it for the indefinite future.
That sounds prudent. But maybe not. At matan Torah as well, Chazal teach[5] that their souls sprang from their bodies. They had to be revived artificially through the dew of resurrection. So it wasn’t a question of madregah after all. Hashem had to miraculously bring them back to life from an experience that would have killed them. In that case, there was no reason to believe that He wouldn’t do the same for them on a continuing basis.
Not really. Hashem revived them that day because He was dealing with the entire people! If they all expired, there would be no one to whom to give the Torah! There could be no such expectation regarding a particular individual.
Thus, we have arrived at an explanation that resolves all the questions. Each individual faced a dilemma. He had indeed seen that Hashem spoke to man, without ill-effect. There would be many people who would be able to continue experiencing such communication. But others felt that they would not maintain the lofty madregah of the day of matan Torah, and they feared for their lives. This was a reaction of humility – not cowardly self-preservation. It was humility born of genuine and deep recognition of Hashem’s majesty.
In fact, so many people thought themselves individually ill-suited to continue direct communication with Hashem, that they turned to Moshe and asked that it cease. They expressed themselves with the words v’shomanu v’asinu, inverting the naaseh v’nishmah that propelled them to the magical moments of matan Torah. They deliberately underscored that naaseh v’nishmah existed for them for that moment, but they were unsure whether they could maintain that level in the longer run.
Hashem was pleased with their display of humility and praised them for it. It behooves man to not take his spiritual attainments for granted, to believe that they have become hard-wired and dependable. Man should always recognize his spiritual fragility.
Al taamin b’atzmecha thus had its humble beginnings way back in the aftermath of the Aseres HaDibros.
- Adapted from Be’er Moshe, by the Ozherover Rebbe zt”l ↑
- Devarim 5:21-22 ↑
- Devarim 5:24 ↑
- Devarim 5:26 ↑
- Shabbos 88b ↑