January 29th: Beshallach
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
Though most of us know it intuitively, we may not have heard a basic characteristic of Judaism ever stated directly. Rather than a set of doctrines and dogmas, Jewish Tradition is a chorus of different voices, united by common experiences and common texts and an aspiration to live in holiness. How we are to understand our sacred mission is where the different opinions find voice. Rabbinic Literature from the Talmud to the Siddur (prayer book) to all the works of philosophy and law is full of different voices as we collectively try to understand the human predicament and fulfill our holy potential. Even the Bible is not immune to these many voices; our discussion with the Divine and each other goes way, way back.
One of the techniques of our Jewish Tradition is to embellish our sacred stories with alternative views. As you may remember from last week’s discussion about “borrowing” gold and silver from our Egyptian neighbors before we left Egypt, some traditional commentators applaud the move and create stories of how the “borrowed” items were used for good, and others find it embarrassing and create stories of how the stolen items were used for ill purposes.
This week, as we witness the miracle of the splitting of the Red Sea, I would like to share three Midrashic voices which mediate or even debate the message in the Torah text.
The first involves the miracle itself. In Exodus 14, beginning with verse 10, we see Pharaoh and his chariots and horsemen bearing down on the Israelites. Understandably, we panic and start complaining to Moses, “Was it for lack of graves in Egypt that you brought us out to the wilderness to die?!” Moses assures us that God will save us and “take care” of the Egyptians: “The Lord will battle for you; you hold your peace.” At this point, God gives Moses a rather strange command, “Why do you cry out to Me? Tell the Israelites to go forward. Lift up your rod and hold out hand arm over the sea and split it, so that the Israelites may march into the sea on dry ground.” Notice: God gives the order to move forward before the sea is split. Moreover, we see in verse 21 that the splitting is a rather slow affair, taking several hours. In other words, the people are instructed by God and then Moses to walk into the water. Thus do the Rabbis in Numbers Rabbah give us this Midrashic embellishment:
When the Israelites stood on the Egyptian side of the Red Sea, terrified at the onrushing chariots, Moses lifted up his rod to divide the waters, but nothing happened. Nothing happened because Moses and the Israelites were waiting on God for the miracle. Then Nachshon, an Israelite filled with faith and bravery, jumped into the water and started walking. “By our faith shall these waters be divided,” he shouted, and everyone followed him in. When all the people were in the sea—with the water up to their noses—only then did the sea part, and the Children of Israel could walk through on dry land.
As much as the Rabbis believed in a God Who could and would rescue us, they realized that too much faith can be a problem. If we rely too much on miracles, we fail to work on our own behalf. We fail to do what we can do to fix ourselves and our problems. They never doubted the miracle, but they wanted to balance the belief in miracles with human responsibility. True wisdom is thus a dual realization about the relationship between God and humanity. For the fellow stuck in the middle of a lake in a storm, pray very hard, and row for shore!
A second Midrashic insight into the story involves our human ability to perceive and appreciate miracles. Originally from Exodus Rabbah 24.1, this version is told by Rabbi Lawrence Kushner (in his The Book of Miracles):
When the people of Israel crossed through the Red Sea, they witnessed a great miracle. Some say it was the greatest miracle that ever happened. On that day they saw a sight more awesome that all the visions of the prophets combined. The sea split and the waters stood like great walls, while Israel escaped to freedom on the distant shore. Awesome. But not for everyone. Two people, Reuven and Shimon, hurried along among the crowd crossing through the sea. They never once looked up. They noticed only that the ground under their feet was still a little muddy—like a beach at low tide. “Yucch!” said Reuven, “there’s mud all over this place!” “Blecch!” said Shimon, “I have muck all over my feet!” “This is terrible,” answered Reuven. “When we were slaves in Egypt, we had to make our bricks out of mud, just like this!” “Yeah,” said Shimon. “There’s no difference between being a slave in Egypt and being free here.” And so it went, Reuven and Shimon whining and complaining all the way to freedom. For them there was no miracle. Only mud. Their eyes were closed. They might as well have been asleep.
God’s wonders are not merely an objective reality; how we experience them can make all the difference.
A third Midrashic example comes from the celebration after the crossing. Moses leads the men in chanting the poem in Exodus 15, and Miriam leads the women in a great dance. They are all understandably excited, but the poetry is a little bloodthirsty:
“I will sing to the Lord who has triumphed gloriously. Horse and driver has been thrown into the sea…The Lord, the Warrior is God’s name. Pharaoh’s chariots and his army God has cast into the sea. His best officers are drowned in the Red Sea. The deeps covered them; they went down into the depths like a stone. Your right hand, O Lord, glorious in power! Your right hand, O Lord, shatters the foe! In Your great triumph, You break Your opponents; You send forth Your fury, it consumes them like straw…”
One can appreciate the adrenaline flowing through our ancestors’ veins after such a narrow and miraculous escape, and the fierce sentiments of the poem certainly reflect that energy. However, later generations sensed that this kind of fury needs to be mediated by compassion, and so we find, in Talmud Sanhedrin 39b, a Midrashic embellishment that tones down our reading of the celebration, pointing us to an important universalist and humanitarian lesson.
After the Israelites finished crossing the Red Sea, Moses led the men in chanting a victory poem, and Miriam led the women in a victory dance. It was all very exciting, and the angels in heaven wanted to join in. However, when they started singing, God shushed them, saying, “How can you celebrate when My children are floating dead in the sea?!”
Though the Egyptians deserve their punishment, God takes no joy, and thus the Rabbis teach us to have compassion for all—even our enemies.
This is why questions like “What does Judaism teach about ___?” never have short answers. The discussion has been going on for many, many years, and lots of Jewish voices have weighed in with their opinions. Some may be more appealing than others, but the aspiration is consistent throughout. We are in a sacred conversation, paying attention and thinking through the issues that God places before us.