Growing up, I used to anticipate with great excitement the annual showing of Cecil B. Demille’s “The Ten Commandments”. His depiction was the one I grew up thinking was the real and most literal understanding of the text. A few years ago, having by then come to the understanding that the Torah can be interpreted in many different ways, I was also excited to see what Dreamworks had created in “The Prince of Egypt” as the new and modern interpretation of the story. The advances in movie production were obvious, but something else also struck me. It was quite an experience to see new elements of the story unfold on the screen in the name of artistic license. As if the story of the Exodus weren't already action packed enough? Nonetheless, as I watched the movie, it occurred to me how much it and "The Ten commandments" truly influence our reading of the actual text. At the same time, however, I was struck by the ways both movies change certain parts of the text as well.
One of the places in which the artistic license of both movies called for a change from the actual text appears in this week's Torah portion, B'shalach. As the story goes, the Israelites have begun their journey out of Egypt, when Pharaoh decides he no longer wants to allow them to go. So, he and his army chase after the Israelites. The Israelites arrive at the Sea and are in desperate need of some sort of miracle to help escape the wrath of Pharaoh. In both movies, Moses raises his hands and all of the sudden the sea parts and all the people rush at once into the water to cross. Could it really have been as easy as that?
According to the Bible text, Exodus 14:20-22, the account is slightly different: "…Thus there was a cloud with the darkness, and it cast a spell on the night, so that the one could not come near the other all through the night. And Moses stretched his hand over the sea, and God caused the Sea to go back by a strong east wind all that night, and made the sea dry land, and the waters were divided. And the children of Israel went into the midst of the sea…." So, according to the Bible, this was a process that took all night. It didn't just happen in one quick touch of the hand by Moses. Furthermore, it does not tell us how the people crossed.
The Israelites have just come out of slavery, are now on the run, and know not to where they are headed (other than through the desert.) Only in the chapters before was it made clear that the Israelites were having trouble believing that they could be saved, and now they are supposed to simply throw themselves into the sea whose waters could close in on them (as it eventually did on the Egyptians)? Moreover, what were the people doing all night while they waited for the sea to split? And, how could they possibly have waited all night if the Egyptians were hot on their heels?
The Talmud, in the seventh chapter of the section entitled Sotah, offers a Rabbinic take on this that captures the tension that the Israelites likely felt in the moments waiting for the sea to split. The Talmud says "Rabbi Meir said: 'when the Israelites were standing at the Sea, the tribes were arguing with one another. One said I will go into the sea first; the other said I will go first. So, the tribe of Benjamin jumped into the Sea..." In this account, they were all very eager to go first and were fighting, like most 'siblings', to see who got to go first.
But, the Talmud continues, providing another opinion of how the Israelites approached the idea of jumping into the sea. Rabbi Yehuda says: "It didn't happen this way. It happened that one said 'I am not going first' and the other said 'I am not going first'. (Until finally) Nachshon ben Aminadav jumped into the Sea first." Finally, according to the Rabbinic Midrash, it was not until Nachshon ben Aminadav was in the sea up to his nostrils that the water was actually parted.
It seems to me that the Talmud is truly capturing the essence of what it means to live in a world where God's miracles exist. Rabbi Meir's account shows how the people were eager to jump in and accept the miracle that was in front of them without concern that the miracle might turn out not to be a miracle after all. Each tribe wanted to be the first to show their faith and to run towards all that was in front of them in the desert. On the other hand, Rabbi Yehuda tells us that the people were more hesitant, as if they had trouble believing that the waters of the sea could actually be parted. After all, would you really want to be the first to jump in when there was no reason to believe that seas could actually be parted? It's as if they were having trouble believing that miracles could really happen. At the same time, without Nachson ben Aminadav's walking into the water up to his nostrils, the waters might not have parted.
Miracles, by definition, are miracles. We cannot understand how they happen or why they happen. As a result, miracles can be exciting and inviting, but also overwhelming and scary. We both welcome them, and are scared of them. Yet, in the end, miracles come from God with human participation. After all, can we still call something a miracle if no human recognizes it as such?
God does indeed bring miracles into the world, and allows for human participation in the enactment of those miracles. Think about the miracles around us - the birth of a new baby, the love between two people, the recovery from an injury or illness, or the growing of flowers, trees, and other plants – even the rising and setting of the sun each day. All of these are miracles from God. At the same time, they could not happen were it not for human participation - parents to conceive and give birth, two people to meet and find the connections between them, doctors to diagnose and treat those in need of it, people to plant and care for the trees and plants, individuals who notice the wonder and awe of the rays of the sun and moon.
So, on this Shabbat, I pray that we can each recognize our own capacity for accepting and helping to create miracles. I pray that we find excitement and exhilaration in the miracles of our world, while at the same time recognize the difficulty in recognizing something so miraculous. Finally, I pray that we can be like Nachshon ben Aminadav and allow ourselves to risk being nose deep in order to participate in God's miracles.
Shabbat Shalom.