The Voice Without an Echo

In Jewish communities across the world, Jews will gather in Shuls, to hear the reading of the Ten Commandments in this week’s Parsha of Yitro. We will stand and listen, as we try to re-enact the moment of revelation at Mt. Sinai.

If you listen closely, you will notice something strange.

The Ten Commandments do not begin with a commandment. The people heard G-d’s voice saying: “I am the Lord, your G-d.” Although this is considered the first of the ten, it certainly does not seem to be a commandment. What kind of Mitzvah can be found in that statement?

The experience at Sinai was not just about Mitzvahs. In fact, in Dayaanu, we sing, “If You would have brought us to Mt. Sinai, but not given us the Torah, that would have been enough for us.” To give the Jewish people a mission and a framework in which to live, G-d was forced to leave the heavens and come down to earth. This breaking of boundaries is the essence of the Sinai experience.

As holiness descended into the world, the people felt the presence of G-d in their midst and thus, they surged upwards like the angels. The Torah compares it to a marriage, when each partner must give up some of his/her own identity to merge into oneness.

In this first commandment, G-d is giving His people a better understanding of Himself. You shouldn’t enter a marriage unless you know your partner.

The Talmud tells us that when G-d spoke, “They saw His voice from the west and east...from every direction they saw the voice.” Hearing G-d’s voice would have told us only of its greatness and power. Seeing G-d’s voice is something entirely different. The knowledge of G-d was apparent wherever they turned. Every blade of grass, every limb of their body, each of their possessions was saying the same thing: “I am the Lord, your G-d.”

The Midrash tells us that even their visions of their past and of their future were calling out to them with the same message. The experience at Sinai did not alter their world; it simply made them see it differently. Suddenly, they saw clearly that the spirit of G-d was inherent in everything, that their old perceptions of self were so limited. In this new altered state, G-d was speaking to them from everywhere; every part of their lives carried a message from G-d.

Perhaps this is why the Midrash says that there was no echo to the voice of G-d in the desert that day. The echo-less nature of the divine communication conveys the very essence of what happened at Sinai. An echo is created when a sound meets with a substance which resists it: instead of absorbing its waves, the substance repels them, bouncing them back to the void. For one glorious moment, the world absorbed the voice of G-d and did not try to resist it.

This was the experience that formed us as a people. In some part of our collective memory, we know that we can hear the voice of G-d in everything we see and do. We simply need to be willing to surrender ourselves to the moment and be fully present. Giving oneself to another can yield the greatest of joys but it does not come without a cost. As parents and spouses, we experience this firsthand. It is a constant struggle to maintain one’s own identity in the face of love and surrender to another. Perhaps it is helpful to remember the message of Sinai. If you stop resisting for a moment, you see a whole different reality. You never know from which direction G-d’s voice will penetrate your soul.