Friday, January 18, 2019

The Human Language of Torah



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. 13:17-18 “Now when Pharaoh let the people go, God did not lead them by way of the land of the Philistines, although it was nearer....so God led the people round-about, by way of the wilderness...”

JTS Chancellor Arnold Eisen has made note of a connection between this week’s opening verse and Revelation at Sinai, which we will encounter next week. (JTS, 1/30/15).
            God did not take the direct route, lest the People lose courage. God accommodates human needs, perceptions, and fears. The connection between divine strategy and human foibles is underlined by the similar sound of the two key words in the passage: God naham (led them) lest Israel yinahem (regret, change heart [Gen. 13:17]).
            The Sages had much to say about this notion of divine accommodation. The very language of our Torah accommodates human understanding through human metaphors which describe God. God by definition is outside of our understanding. Heschel taught that the most common words of Torah, “God said” and “God spoke” are the most difficult words for humans to understand.
            The Sages developed a most significant principle: “Torah is written in human language.” The language of Torah must be understood by indirect means, in roundabout methods, just like the Israelites leaving Egypt.
            This parasha presents some of the most difficult theological issues with which we, as Jews, must wrestle. God has given imperfect human beings free will, and even dominion over nature. We are not puppets on God’s strings. Yet, the Torah insists that God is directly involved in history, perhaps no more notably than in this week’s reading of crossing the Sea.  On another hand, God’s intervention in human affairs is incomplete and unpredictable. We are commanded to seek justice, but He also recognizes our weaknesses.
            As Eisen notes, God may lead with a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night, but the Israelites must do the walking, and have human guides to show them the route. The cloud and the fire pillar are necessary, but not sufficient. Eisen further suggests that what makes our continued existence possible is (1) tradition, so that we need not reinvent everything in each generation, and (2) the concept of covenant, which requires human beings who have earned the right to make promises by keeping them.
            It is a mystical partnership and ultimately a matter of faith. 


Friday, January 11, 2019

Our abnormal national identity

Ex.10:1-13:16

Précis: God sends additional plagues (locusts and darkness) and alerts Moses that the 10th and final plague will follow. God instructs Moses on the institution of the Passover. Then, the final plague, the death of first born, is wrecked upon Egypt. The Israelites, accompanied by the “mixed multitudes,” leave Egypt, carrying with them the “spoils of Egypt” given to them by the Egyptians. The parasha ends with a repetition of the laws regarding Passover.

Ex. 12:24-28 “And this day shall be unto you for a memorial, and ye shall keep it a feast to God; throughout your generations … and it shall come to pass, when ye come to the land which God will give you … when your children shall say unto you: What mean ye by this service? that ye shall say: It is the sacrifice of God’s Passover, for that He passed over the houses of the children of Israel in Egypt.”

Natan and Rachel Sharansky remind us of the relationship between the final plagues leading to the Exodus from Egypt, and a subsequent Exodus from the Soviet Union more than 3,000 years later. (Tablet, 1/13/16).  In this week’s reading, the plagues end with the death of the first born, and the Israelites, for the first time, must play a part in their redemption, by sacrificing lambs and smearing blood on their doorposts. Lambs were worshipped by the Egyptians, and the Israelites could declare their independence by publicly advertising their acts against the state
            Soviet Jews, they remind us, had to make the same choice. Every Jew who wished to make aliyah had to go through an individual ordeal of defiance by requesting permission to leave. They suffered interviews by the secret police (KGB) who questioned the veracity of “invitations” from “family” in Israel to depart. They needed to secure documents from employers and residences declaring their wish to leave, and they often lost dwellings and jobs during the long wait, all the time being subjected to public humiliation. How could Soviet Jews be so defiant, in full knowledge of the consequences? The answer may lie in this week’s parasha as well, in the verses cited above.
            The Sharanskys suggest that God was offering something more than comfort. He was offering them the promise of a national future, complete with land, children, and a memory of the Exodus. By asking permission to leave, Soviet Jews had to defy a regime to win freedom for themselves and their future.
            Jews today do not have to face Pharaoh or the Soviet Union. But we need to face the growing threats to our national existence posed by anti-Semites, Holocaust deniers, and enemies of Israel. Like the Jews of the Exodus and of the Soviet Union, it is not enough to be quiet and wait for deliverance. It is incumbent upon each of us to act. As the Sharanskys state, “we have to infuse our normal lives with our abnormal national identity. Our ancestors transcended individuality by leaping into a grand, tangible Exodus. We are left with the challenge of bringing this grand national identity into our normal daily lives.” We may not have a 10th plague to experience,  but we must remain connected to each other if we are to remain free.