Friday, February 6, 2026

Faith

Yitro

Ex. 18:1 - 20:23

 

Précis:  Following last week’s trip through the Red Sea, Moses is reunited with his father-in-law Jethro (“Yitro”) and with his family. Yitro acknowledges God, gives wise advice to Moses about delegating responsibility, and Moses appoints assistants (judges). The Israelites come to the foot of Mount Sinai where, in the ultimate experience, Revelation takes place as the “Ten Utterances” (Commandments) are spoken to the People by the very Voice of God.

 

Ex. 20:2 “I the Lord am your God who brought you out of the land of Egypt, the house of bondage.”

            The Ten Commandments begin with an affirmation of God’s reality. Almost by definition, this requires “faith” in something which is transcendental (beyond the understanding of human beings). It is interesting to note that our “faith” is based on an implied quid pro quo: we recognize God because God took us out of slavery.

            Traditional analysis suggests that “faith” or “belief” is an essential element of Judaism. For many, this has been expressed in the undertaking of mitzvot; for others, this has been expressed in terms of hope, either in this world or in a “world to come.”

I am uncertain what “faith” means in a Jewish context and what it means to me personally. When I was young, “faith” seemed to be linked to some Being to whom one could ask for things and hope that  one's wishes would be fulfilled. The I/Thou relationship as expressed by Heschel (although in truth quite a complex notion) was to the younger version of myself rather simple: I can ask, and God can deliver. Another quid quo pro.

 As I’ve aged, I’ve observed, in the words of Kohelet, that all is “vanity,” meaning unpredictable or even meaningless to human senses. The quid quo pro exists in the land of hope, but not always in the land of life. Therefore, I’ve come to see that “faith” cannot be based on hope. At the same time, I have learned that faith can be based on gratitude. After all, as is implied in this week’s parasha, it is gratitude that is demanded of us.  



Friday, January 30, 2026

Nachshon

B’shalach

Ex. 13:17-17:16

 

Précis: And when Pharaoh “had let them go” (b’shalach), the story of the Exodus from Egypt is almost concluded. Carrying with them the bones of Joseph and the “spoils of Egypt,” Moses leads the Israelites by way of the Red (or Reed) Sea. They cross the sea ahead of Pharaoh’s pursuing army, which subsequently drowns in the returning waters. Moses sings his triumphant Song of the Sea, and Miriam’s song of joy follows. The Israelites begin to murmur against Moses and Aaron because of a lack of food and water. God provides heavenly “manna” to eat and provides water as well. The Shabbat is introduced as a day of rest, even before it appears in the Ten Commandments. In their first battle led by Joshua, against Amalek, the Israelites are successful as long as Moses’ hands remain in the air, and with the help of Aaron and Hur (who support Moses’ arms), they prevail. 


Ex. 14:21-28: “Then Moses stretched out his hand over the sea, and all that night the Lord drove the sea back with a strong east wind and turned it into dry land. The waters were divided, and the Israelites went through the sea on dry ground, with a wall of water on their right and on their left. The Egyptians pursued them, and all Pharaoh’s horses and chariots and horsemen followed them into the sea…The water flowed back and covered the chariots and horsemen—the entire army of Pharaoh that had followed the Israelites into the sea. Not one of them survived.”

            This is a story imprinted on us from ancient times to modern storytelling. Brave Charlton Heston Moses raises his arms and the seas split. But there is a midrash which tells another story (BT Sotah 36b-37a). There, the Sages imagine the Israelites standing in terror at the water’s edge, with Pharaoh's army ready to pounce upon them. Moses raises his hands and nothing happens! With Moses’ apparent failure to produce another miracle, one individual, by the name of Nachshon steps into the water and begins to walk. The water rises to his knees, his waist, his chest, his neck, and up to his nostrils. Suddenly, the Sea recedes as we are told in the text itself.

            The moral is simple: God may act in mysterious ways, but it is incumbent upon us to take the first steps.  Freedom may be God’s gift, but it is obtained by courage, faith, and risking danger. As I have written before, my generation was raised and has lived in a Golden Era for American Jews. That was achieved through the toil and efforts of those who came before us. Our parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents dreamt the American Dream of freedom and took action to fulfil those dreams.

            Nachshon had faith but also saw that faith alone was insufficient. Personal action, however dangerous and seemingly impotent, was needed. Can we do less than Nachshon to protect our American Dream?