EE & R, 2_7: Knowing Hashem: Anti-Faith and Indirect Knowledge
(For the previous installment of "Exodus, Exile and Redemption," click here. For ToC, click here.)
At its core, faith is a commitment to something good, even before we’re sure of it. It’s like starting a journey without a map but being confident you’ll find the treasure. Now, imagine the opposite – iniquity. This is when someone ignores what they know is right. Interestingly, both paths lead to knowledge, but in very different ways.
Think of faith as planting a seed. You water it, not knowing what will grow. But eventually, you see the fruits of your belief. That’s how faith in something good, over time, turns into real, lived experience of that good. It’s like finally seeing the plant bloom and realizing the worth of your efforts.
Iniquity, on the other hand, is like ignoring the plant. You know it needs water, but you choose not to give it. What happens? It withers, and through that, you learn about the consequences of neglecting what’s good.1
This concept is vividly illustrated in the Exodus saga, where we see two groups – the Egyptians and the Children of Israel – taking opposite paths to knowledge.
The Book of Exodus frequently talks about understanding or knowing Hashem.2 For the Children of Israel, this knowledge was tied to experiencing His help and protection. They were told that a time of great understanding was coming, where they would see and feel Hashem’s care in their redemption from Egypt:
I am Hashem. And I appeared to Avraham, to Yitzchak and to Yaakov as El Shaddai, but by my name, Hashem, I was not known to them… Therefore, say to the children of Israel, “I am Hashem. I will bring you out from under the burdens of Egypt… You will know that I am Hashem” (Exodus 6:2-8); So that you may recount in the ears of your son and your son’s son how I made a mockery of Egypt and My signs that I set upon them, and you shall know that I am Hashem (ibid, 10:2).
The Egyptians, on the other hand, received warnings. They would also come to know Hashem, but through experiencing His anger. This was a result of their iniquity – they ignored what they knew was right:
That the Egyptians may know that I am Hashem (ibid, 7:5); By this shall you know that I am Hashem (ibid, 17); So that you may know that there is none like Hashem our God (ibid, 8:6); That you may know that I am Hashem (ibid, 18); So that you may know that there is none like Me in all the earth (ibid, 9:14); So that you may know that the earth is Hashem’s (ibid, 29); So that you may know how Hashem distinguishes between Egypt and Israel (ibid, 11:7); And the Egyptians will know that I am Hashem (ibid, 14:4); And the Egyptians will know that I am Hashem (ibid, 18).
At the heart of their different experiences lie their antithetical approaches to faith. The Israelites had faith; the Egyptians embraced iniquity. The Israelites started their journey toward understanding Hashem with belief in His promises, as is written: “The people believed” (ibid, 4:31). The Egyptians, however, missed the chance for direct knowledge due to their wrongdoings.
This idea is reflected in two verses that mirror each other, showing how iniquity blocks the path to truly understanding Hashem. “Now I know that Hashem is greater than all the gods: for in this thing that they dealt with iniquity against them” (ibid, 18:11); “For You knew that they dealt with iniquity against them, and You made a name for Yourself” (Nehemiah 9:10). Knowledge, the name of Hashem, and iniquity are interrelated – for iniquitous people can never attain direct knowledge of Hashem.
We see this play out in the dramatic first meeting between Moshe and Pharaoh. Moshe comes with a message of freedom, but Pharaoh’s response? "Who is Hashem... I do not know Hashem" (Exodus 5:2). This denial and rejection of knowledge sets the stage for the Egyptians’ eventual, painful lesson – understanding Hashem's power only indirectly, through feeling the absence of His goodness.
(For the next installment of "Exodus, Exile and Redemption," click here.)
This description idealizes how faith and iniquity play out, which may not always align with the complexities of real life. It’s an observable truth that sometimes, evildoers prosper while the righteous suffer. The world doesn’t fit neatly into a black-and-white moral framework where good is always immediately rewarded and evil swiftly punished. However, this idealized model serves a purpose. It suggests a long-term historical trajectory where, over time, good tends to prevail and evil falters. History shows us that, in the broadest view, righteousness eventually leads to positive outcomes, while iniquity leads to downfall.
There are moments, too, when this moral pattern is manifest in the short term, with the righteous visibly reaping rewards and the wicked facing consequences. The seemingly random nature of these occurrences echoes Moshe’s profound question in the Talmud, Berachos 7a: “Master of the Universe, why is there a righteous person who has it good, and there is a righteous person who has it bad; there is a wicked person who has it good, and there is a wicked person who has it bad?” This query highlights the apparent arbitrariness of history and will be explored further in this work.