The third blessing of the Amidah comes in two forms. One is the private form, used when one is davening silently, as an individual. The second is the public form, used when one is davening with a minyan, and the Amidah is being recited out loud.
In the public reading, there is a dramatic moment when we proclaim that G-d is “Holy, holy, holy” (“Kadosh, kadosh, kadosh”). A widely observed custom is to rise on our toes with each word, as if we were angels proclaiming these words as we fly through heaven (which is, in fact, the vision the prophet Isaiah had when he first heard these words).
Temporarily emulating angels (on a daily basis, no less) is surely a salutary exercise for a bewildered and decidedly unangelic humanity.
There is another custom, not as well known, but equally meaningful. When one recites these words, the custom is to look up toward heaven—but with eyes closed! This small bit of sacred choreography captures a tension that animates religious life. One is reminded of the great writer Zora Neale Hurston’s line, “They seemed to be staring at the dark, but their eyes were watching God.” The religious person seeks G-d. But the second one catches a glimpse of G-d, one of two (bad) things can happen. If one stares too long and really sees the divine reality, one will be blinded by G-d’s immensity (“No one shall see my face and live,” says G-d to Moses). On the other hand, if one only experiences a fleeting glance of the Divine, one can diminish G-d’s grandeur and delude oneself into thinking that they “have” G-d—an idolatrous consciousness that the 2nd of the 10 commandments seeks to avert (“You shall not make for yourself any graven image, nor any manner of likeness, of any thing that is heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth.”).
Put simply, we seek to see and not see. It’s like playing a game of peek-a-boo with G-d. According to psychologists, peek-a-boo is a learning process centered on something called “object permanence”—the idea that even if you don’t see something, it can still be there. Which, if you think about it, is our common experience of G-d. The unique task of our tradition is to teach us to love, respect, and obey a Divine force that we don’t necessarily see or feel.
If we look in the right direction, we have learned, and close our eyes, and envision holiness, we can truly see.