The Spirituality of Seeing

 

“Open your eyes — the Divine is right here, in front of you.” The Kotzker Rebbe

“See, I set before you today a blessing and a curse.” (Deuteronomy 11:26)

Parashat “Ekev,” of two weeks ago astressed the importance of hearing and listening,

as evidenced by the repetitive use of the verb “shema” (hear, listen). In Last week's Parashah,

“Re’eh,” (see), Moshe is urging the Yisraelites to choose between blessing and curse,

"see" the consequences of loyalty or disobedienc to G-d while emphasizing the significance

of seeing as a mode of recognizing G-d in our daily choices.

Am Yisrael, as both Rash”i and Ramba”n suggest, is called here, not just to hear but to see clearly the moral alternatives before them. Re’eh is an order to open one’s eyes, perceive clearly and choose blessing over curse. Ramba”n empahsizes that “seeing,” in this context, is not just with the eyes, but with the mind’s eye - an act of deep spiritual awareness. It emphasizes perception, awareness and a conscious choice.

Rash”i further points out that the verse begins with the singular “Re’eh” (see) but continues with the plural “lifneichem” (before you [plural]). Rash”i reads Re’eh as a deeply personal summons: “See this as if it is directed to you alone, yet know that your choices shape the fate of all Israel.” In other words, Rash”i asserts that though it teaches each individual to see and understand, the consequences apply to the whole community. It encompasses both personal and collective responsibility.

Sforno suggests that the Torah could have said “Shema” (hear), as it does in Shema Yisrael (“Hear, oh Yisrael”). Instead, it chooses the word “Re’eh” suggesting not merely passive listening but active vision without distortion - a responsibility to look ahead, recognize consequences, and internalize Torah values.

Ramba”n also offers a different interpretation for the choice of “Re’eh” rather than “Shema”.  He explains that whereas to hear something is indirect and can, thus, be doubted, to see something is direct and undeniable.

The decree “Re’eh”  brings to mind the occasion of receiving the Torah at Mount Sinai. There, we are told that Am Yisrael “saw the sounds” (Exodus 20:15) which Jewish scholars found to be a most striking and paradoxical image. 

Rash”i, for instance, citing Mekhilta de-Rabbi Yishmael explains that the People saw what is normally heard. That experience was so powerful and overwhelming that the boundaries between the senses collapsed. That, in turn, caused their spiritual perception to be elevated to the level that they could apprehend Divine communication with absolute clarity.

For Hasidic thinkers such as Sfat Emet, “seeing,” as opposed to “hearing” symbolizes the transformation of faith (emunah, usually associated with hearing) into knowledge (da’at, associated with seeing).

Lord Rabbi Sacks also addresses the theme of “hearing” vs. “seeing.” In his commentary on the Parashah, Sacks states, “On the face of it, Moshe is appealing to the eye, not the ear. However, if we examine the role of sight in Judaism, we discover something strange. Often, when the Torah seems to be using a verb or metaphor for sight, it is actually referring to something not seen at all but rather heard. To reinforce his point, Sacks cites two examples from the Tana”ch, mainly the prophets, one from Isaiah, the other from Jeremiah.

Isaiah 1:2 opens, “The vision concerning Judah and Jerusalem that Isaiah son of Amos saw during the reigns of Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz, and Hezekiah, kings of Judah: Hear, O Heavens! Listen, O earth.” As Sacks correctly states, the verse contains no visual imagery. “What Isaiah ‘sees’ is a call, sounds, speech, a proclamation, not a sight or scene or symbol.” The key verbs are “hearing” and “listening,” in the opening verses of the book of Isaiah. In Jeremiah, 1:11-12, claims Sacks, the prophet  “‘sees’ but G-d teaches him to listen.”

My article on parashat “Ekev” highlighted the importance of hearing and listening. I shared Sacks’s brilliant commentary on the motif of what he coined the “Spirituality of Listening.”  I firmly believe that it is appropriate to name one of the themes of last week’s parasha as  “The Spirituality of Seeing.” 

“Re’eh” is about cultivating a vision- personal, ethical, and divine. It extends to transcending the mundane in our lives to actively looking and seeing G-d in the world and in others, fostering a clear vision of truth and goodness, and cultivating a deeper connection to the Divine, all in order to witness the profound spiritual reality of a blessing and a curse.

Ner Tamid (Perpetual Light)

 

                                      “Command the Yisraelites to bring you clear oil of pressed olives for the                                             illumination of the perpetual light.”  - Exodus 27:2

Throughout history and across cultures, the notion of Light is one of the most universal and central symbols. Unlike darkness, which is associated with evil, suffering and the unknown, Light, conveys goodness, hope and spirituality.

The concept of Light runs like a golden thread in Judaism, its tradition and commandments and captures an immense role and significance in our Jewish culture. It is almost impossible to fathom Judaism without the notion of Light and candles which are used for various functions such as holy days celebrations and as commemoration and other special occasions.

G-d’s directive regarding Ner Tamid, above, was given to Moshe as part of the commandment to construct the Tabernacle, the portable earthly dwelling of G-d which was used by Am Yisrael throughout their wanderings in the desert until the conquest of Canaan. The instructions to assemble the Tabernacle such as its measurements, listing the vessels and their roles, the garb of the priests or the performance of the rituals, also include detailed guidelines surrounding the precepts and affiliated role and purpose of Ner Tamid (Leviticus 6:5-6).

Upon the erection of Solomon’s Temple, all rituals and religious duties, including those surrounding Ner Tamid, were relocated and placed in it. After the destruction of the Temple, the tradition of Ner Tamid was shifted to the synagogue where it is placed in front of Aron haKodesh, Ark of the Holy, where the Torah scrolls are kept.

The theme of Light can be spotted in various places along our Tana”ch and symbolizes different quality. For instance, the term is an important component of the constitutive and well-known idiomatic phrases concerning our calling as a People. Our destiny to be a “Light unto the Nations” is proclaimed by the prophet Isaiah (42:6). The role that G-d has fated for us, as a “Nation of Priests,” according to Isaiah, was to represent Him to the world by our meritorious lifestyle and by becoming a beau ideal to humanity.

For King Solomon, though, Light symbolizes the Spirit of Man as he suggests in Proverbs 20:27: “The human spirit is the lamp of G-d that sheds light on one’s inmost being.” For others, such as Erica Brown, the light of the Ner Tamid is a reminder of “the flame that burned but did not consume the burning bush where Moses received his calling.” (“The perpetual flame: Thoughts on Parashat Tzav”. The Torah Leadership, March 30, 2023).

The absence of Light, on the other hand, is used as a form of punishment, in our Jewish scriptures. In the Babylonian Talmud, Megillah tractate, for instance, Rabbi Yosi (1st century) quotes one of the curses that Moshe warned Am Yisrael against, lest they move away from their Covenant with G-d, “At midday you will grope about like a blind person in the dark” (Deuteronomy 28:29). In its literal meaning, this curse denotes that even at noon, when it is expected to be light, darkness shall prevail.

Rabbi Yossi, however, recounts the following story which helps us understand this verse differently and in a more positive, uplifting and optimistic manner. As he was leaving the prayer house, one evening, shares with us Rabbi Yosi, he met a blind man. The blind man held a burning torch which spread a bright light.

Rather surprised, Rabbi Yosi stopped and asked the man for the purpose of holding the torch. After all, if the man is blind, then day and night should look the same as far as his blindness was concerned.

The blind man explained that so long as he was holding the burning torch, people could see him and save him from getting hurt. The torch, asserted the blind and wise man, was not to show him the way, but rather to ensure that others noticed him and came to his rescue. For him the burning flame of the torch provided Faith and Trust. It was a holy fire.

It is this kind of “holy fires” that Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, ZT”L is referring to in his column in The Times, “Somehow faith outlives every attempt to destroy it. Its symbol is not the fierce fire that burned synagogues and sacred scrolls and murdered lives. It is the fragile flame we, together with our children and grandchildren, light in our homes, singing G-d’s story, sustained by our hope.” (“The Flame of Faith that has Survived all Tyranny,” The Times, December 19, 2008).

May the Perpetual Light of the Ner Tamid continue to shine over us all and point us in the right direction where we can bind with our fellow men and women and, together, continue to bask in the glory of Hope and Wisdom that it spreads for the benefit of us all.

 

Happy Purim, dear Am Yisrael