Dear TBZ community:
I have this memory from my childhood: I was at my Jewish summer camp, Camp Ramah Chile. I was about 6 or 7 years old, and our activity, our peula, that day was to reenact the story of the Exodus. We, the kids, were the people of Israel, and our counselors were the Egyptians.
My memory is that we escaped “Egypt” - our campgrounds in Hualpen - and that escape meant a long walk that was hot but pleasant and sweet. We relaxed into our stroll and felt that we had won the challenge – we had escaped and we were out of danger. The peula was over. When we arrived at the end of the road and approached the Bio Bio River, we looked back to see our counselors, the “Egyptians” coming at us. The counselor dressed like Pharaoh was scary, and I felt afraid. It all seemed very real. I don’t remember what happened next, but somehow the activity ended. I don't beleive that the Bio Bio River split in two, but nevertheless, we were saved.
This experiential activity always comes back to me when we read parshat Beshalach. I can still see myself as a child– in front of me the river and behind me the “Egyptians.” I can tap into the fear of “no way out.”
Exodus 14, verses 9-10 reads:
וַיִּרְדְּפוּ מִצְרַיִם אַחֲרֵיהֶם וַיַּשִּׂיגוּ אוֹתָם חֹנִים עַל־הַיָּם כׇּל־סוּס רֶכֶב פַּרְעֹה וּפָרָשָׁיו וְחֵילוֹ עַל־פִּי הַחִירֹת לִפְנֵי בַּעַל צְפֹן
the Egyptians gave chase to them, and all the chariot horses of Pharaoh, his horsemen, and his warriors overtook them encamped by the sea, near Pi-hahiroth, before Baal-zephon
וּפַרְעֹה הִקְרִיב וַיִּשְׂאוּ בְנֵי־יִשְׂרָאֵל אֶת־עֵינֵיהֶם וְהִנֵּה מִצְרַיִם נֹסֵעַ אַחֲרֵיהֶם וַיִּירְאוּ מְאֹד וַיִּצְעֲקוּ בְנֵי־יִשְׂרָאֵל אֶל־יְהֹוָה
As Pharaoh drew near, the Israelites caught sight of the Egyptians advancing upon them. Greatly frightened, the Israelites cried out to the LORD
At that moment of fear, at that moment of desperation they cry out to God. They complain to Moshe and ask why God would take them out of Egypt to die like this.
God responds to Moshe:
Exodus 14:15-16
וַיֹּאמֶר יְהֹוָה אֶל־מֹשֶׁה מַה־תִּצְעַק אֵלָי דַּבֵּר אֶל־בְּנֵי־יִשְׂרָאֵל וְיִסָּעוּ
Then the LORD said to Moses, “Why do you cry out to Me? Tell the Israelites to go forward.
וְאַתָּה הָרֵם אֶת־מַטְּךָ וּנְטֵה אֶת־יָדְךָ עַל־הַיָּם וּבְקָעֵהוּ וְיָבֹאוּ בְנֵי־יִשְׂרָאֵל בְּתוֹךְ הַיָּם בַּיַּבָּשָׁה
And you lift up your rod and hold out your arm over the sea and split it, so that the Israelites may march into the sea on dry ground.
In Yalkut Me’am Lo’ez a compilation of midrash and other sources on the Tanach written in Ladino by Rabbi Yaakov Culi in 1730, and translated to English by Rabbi Ariyeh Kaplan, we learn about these pesukim (verses):
Seeing the Egyptians marching to attack, Moses began to pray to God.
He said,
“Lord of the Universe, I am like a shepherd who took his sheep from the level plains, and led them on high mountains, from where I can no longer bring them down. My hands are bound, and I do not know what to do. We are trapped between Pharaoh’s armies and the sea, with no place to turn. (From Yalkut Shimoni)
Why are you crying out to Me? asks God.
This is no time for prayer. My people are suffering.
Besides, what need have you to pray? My people have already prayed to me, and I have heard their prayers. There is no longer any need for you to pray.
Speak to the Israelites and let them move. This is obviously their only option. You can rest assured that the sea will not be a barrier to My people. The sea will split because of the merit of the Patriarchs, as well as the merit of My people who believed in your message and left Egypt with you. Tell the people to march forward. They have nothing to fear.
(From: Targum Yonathan, Zohar, Shemoth Rabbah, Rashi)
(Yalkut Me’am Loez to Exodus 14:15-18, page 184 English edition)
Wow! In this moment of great desperation and fear and unknown God calls God’s people and says, Don't pray, I don’t need your prayers. I need you to act, to move forward, to believe you can do that. God says, tell the people to march forward.
The Reverend Martin Luther King Junior gave a speech on March 25, 1965 in Montgomery Alabama titled: “Our God is Marching On” and I quote here some of it:
Today I want to tell the city of Selma, today I want to say to the state of Alabama, today I want to say to the people of America and the nations of the world, that we are not about to turn around. We are on the move now.
Yes, we are on the move and no wave of racism can stop us. We are on the move now. The burning of our churches will not deter us. The bombing of our homes will not dissuade us. We are on the move now. The beating and killing of our clergymen and young people will not divert us. We are on the move now. The wanton release of their known murderers would not discourage us. We are on the move now. Like an idea whose time has come, not even the marching of mighty armies can halt us. We are moving to the land of freedom.
Let us therefore continue our triumphant march to the realization of the American dream. Let us march on segregated housing until every ghetto or social and economic depression dissolves, and Negroes and whites live side by side in decent, safe, and sanitary housing. Let us march on segregated schools until every vestige of segregated and inferior education becomes a thing of the past, and Negroes and whites study side-by-side in the socially-healing context of the classroom.
Let us march on poverty until no American parent has to skip a meal so that their children may eat. March on poverty until no starved man walks the streets of our cities and towns in search of jobs that do not exist. Let us march on poverty until wrinkled stomachs in Mississippi are filled, and the idle industries of Appalachia are realized and revitalized, and broken lives in sweltering ghettos are mended and remolded.
Let us march on ballot boxes, march on ballot boxes until race-baiters disappear from the political arena.
Let us march on ballot boxes until the salient misdeeds of bloodthirsty mobs will be transformed into the calculated good deeds of orderly citizens.
Let us march on ballot boxes until the Wallaces of our nation tremble away in silence.
Let us march on ballot boxes until we send to our city councils, state legislatures, and the United States Congress, men who will not fear to do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with thy God.
Let us march on ballot boxes until brotherhood becomes more than a meaningless word in an opening prayer, but the order of the day on every legislative agenda.
Let us march on ballot boxes until all over Alabama God’s children will be able to walk the earth in decency and honor.
There is nothing wrong with marching in this sense.
That is the call, to march forward, to keep going, even when what we see in front of us seems impassable. I believe this can inspire us both in our personal journeys in moments of fear and uncertainty as well as guide our collective action for a just world.
Many of us are familiar with the midrashic interpretation that imagines Nachshon son of Aminadav being the first one to just “jump in” to the sea, and at that moment the water splits and opens. Often we speak about Nachshon as a metaphor for the one who takes the risk, the one who is willing to be the first, the one whose trust and belief and courage makes a miracle happen.
God says your prayers without your courage to act won’t really do much at this time. Your faith, your trust, your belief, will give you the courage to act. When my people suffer, says God, it is not time to pray, it is time to act!
I imagine that many of us feel at times, that we stand between the frightening sea in front of us and the frightening Pharaoh behind us without knowing where to go. Within each of us there is a Nachshon that Torah invites us to tap into. Our tradition challenges us to find the courage to move forward and to act. Indomitable hope is what makes us keep moving to cross the seas that lie before us.
And one more thought: You don't have to jump in alone. We march forward in community. We hold hands as we walk through murky waters, and as we figure out how to cross the seas of fears and uncertainties through this pandemic. We hold hands and together march and fight for a better future and world.
And yes, we still do pray. We pray together so we can find that courage that keeps us moving, to tap into our soul and practice gratitude and to joyfully lift our voices so we can keep moving and marching, and loving.
May this Shabbat bring renewal and blessings to all of you and your loved ones.
May we find strength, courage, and patience, and open our hearts with generosity.
May all those who are ill find healing.
May we have a joyful and restful Shabbat!
Shabbat Shalom,
