The revelation at Mount Sinai – the central episode not only of the parshah of Yitro, but of Judaism as a whole was unique in the religious history of mankind. Other faiths (Christianity and Islam) have claimed to be religions of revelation, but in both cases the revelation of which they spoke was to an individual (“the son of God”, “the prophet of God”). Only in Judaism was God’s self-disclosure not to an individual (a prophet) or a group (the elders) but to an entire nation, young and old, men, women and children, the righteous and not yet righteous alike. From the very outset, the people of Israel knew something unprecedented had happened at Sinai. As Moses put it, forty years later: “Ask now about the former days, long before your time, from the day God created man on earth; ask from one end of the heavens to the other. Has anything so great as this ever happened, or has anything like it ever been heard of? Has any other people heard the voice of God speaking out of fire, as you have, and lived? (Deut. 4: 32-33).”
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks explains: “For the great Jewish thinkers of the Middle Ages, the significance was primarily epistemological. It created certainty and removed doubt. The authenticity of a revelation experienced by one person could be questioned. One witnessed by millions could not. God disclosed His presence in public to remove any possible suspicion that the presence felt, and the voice heard, were not genuine.Looking however at the history of mankind since those days, it is clear that there was another significance also – one that had to do not with religious knowledge but with politics. At Sinai a new kind of nation was being formed and a new kind of society – one that would be an antithesis of Egypt in which the few had power and the many were enslaved. At Sinai, the children of Israel ceased to be a group of individuals and became, for the first time, a body politic: a nation of citizens under the sovereignty of God whose written constitution was the Torah and whose mission was to be “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.”
In Exodus 20:15, the Torah states: “And the people saw the voices”. The obvious question asked is how does a person ‘see’ a voice? Midrash Lekach Tov and Rashi explain that the Israelites saw what is ordinarily heard, and heard what is ordinarily seen. The Lubavitcher Rebbe expounds on this idea as follows: “As physical beings, we “see” physical reality. On the other hand, Godliness and spirituality is only something that is “heard” — it can be discussed, perhaps even assimilated to some extent, but not experienced first hand. At the revelation at Sinai, we “saw what is ordinarily heard” — we experienced the divine as an immediate, tangible reality. On the other hand, that which is ordinarily “seen” — the material world — was something merely “heard,” to be accepted or rejected at will.
Why was Moshe so close to his father – in – law, a heathen priest, that the Parsha of the Divine Revelation bears his name? It is almost as if Moshe in his greatest moment of glory takes a back seat so that Yitro can be in the limelight. Even before Moshe leaves Midian to return to Egypt to start his mission he requests permission from Yitro. “Moshe left and returned to his father in law, Jethro. I would like to leave and return to my people in Egypt… Go in peace, said Jethro”(4:18). It is almost as if the redemption was dependent on Yitro’s good wishes. This is all the more startling if we accept the Midrashic teaching that Yitro was actually one of Pharaoh’s advisors and was actually bothered by the destruction of Egypt. Rabbi Jay Kelman comments: It appears that Moshe ‘s indebtedness to Yitro can be explained by Moshe’s tremendous feelings of gratitude toward Yitro. Moshe, after killing an Egyptian who was attacking a Jew, is forced to flee Egypt. Where was he to go? Moshe fled to Midian, stopping at the well presumably evaluating his limited options. Seeing an injustice perpetrated against a group of young women, he rises to their defence and risking further problems, draws water for them. Thinking only of their good fortune and not wanting to risk revenge, the women leave him there and go home. Yitro, their father, would not accept such ingratitude. “Where is he now? He asked his daughter. Why did you abandon the stranger? Call him, and let him have something to eat.” (3:20). Yitro, at least in Moshe’s mind had saved his life. Furthermore he gave him his daughter as a wife. A man who would welcome a stranger into his home and care for him is one who merits association with revelation.
Devorah Abenhaim
