Friends -- I am afraid we will come out of this with more questions than answers, but we have got to tell it like it is, right?
This week's parasha shows us the full range of man's involvement in G-d's workings, from totally passive to totally active. I wish we could come out knowing how much to act and when, how much to count on Hashem's help and how much we have to do ourselves, when to pray and when to fight. But there doesn't seem to be much of a pattern. Let's look inside. There are two wars in this week's parasha -- the first is against the Egyptians, and the second against the tribe of Amalek. In the war against the Egyptians, Moshe tells the people Israel that they need not do anything at all. "Hashem will fight for you, and you be still." In the second war, Moshe tells Yehoshua to gather an army to fight against Amalek, while he will stand on a hilltop and pray. We are told that as long as Moshe holds his hands up in prayer, Israel will win, but when his hands fall, Amalek will win. So how do we know, now, if this is Hashem's war or not? How do we know whether we should let down our weapons and allow Hashem to fight for us, or whether we must continue to do what we can?
The Splitting of the sea is equally confusing. On one hand, Hashem tells Moshe that it is not even a time for prayer -- they must move toward the sea. And Israel had to walk into the water up to their noses before the sea split. On the other hand, Hashem brought a strong wind to split the water. And on another hand (that's three, now) Hashem told Moshe to lift up his staff (symbolizing Divine aid in revealed miracles, says the Netziv), and also to raise up his hand (Divine aid in hidden miracles, writes the Netziv). Who split the sea? Hashem? Moshe? The people who walked in? The wind? Prayer? No prayer?
After the splitting of the sea, there is a song. There are differing opinions about how the song actually happened. According to Rebbe Nechemia, they all sang as one with Divine Inspiration. According to Rebbe Eliezer ben Tadai, Moshe said one phrase, and then all of Israel answered together the next phrase, as one, with Divine inspiration. And then the women sang, and the Netziv writes that they sang without Divine inspiration. Which is more powerful? Is the song that's born entirely of human initiative a more powerful statement of love for G-d, or is it the song that's born from letting go and be taken by the spirit? Shouldn't all human initiative be rewarded, as the Jews were for walking into the sea up to their noses?
And there are so many more examples. The Netziv writes that Hashem took Israel out of Egypt the long way to start getting them used to the way it is going to be for the Jews. One message Hashem may be giving the people is, "Get used to paradox." "And the waters were for them a wall, on the left and on the right," as they crossed. Walking through, between left and right, between choices. Sometimes, the only thing that will bring success is total human initiative, and sometimes it is the only thing that can get in the way. Sometimes we should pray, and sometimes not. Sometimes we will get what we need only when we speak up, as at the waters of Marah, and as we did for the manna, and sometimes everything will be prepared for us, as were the 70 palm trees and 12 springs Israel found in Eylim. Sometimes we need to sing together, maybe with a leader, maybe without, and sometimes we need to break off and sing our own song, even if it's not going to be the prettiest thing in the world.
"Why did you take us out of Egypt, Moshe? When we were there, we had meat in our pots, and we ate our fill of bread!" Thus complained the Jews before Moshe. And, of course, Egypt was very appealing. We knew exactly what to expect, and we knew exactly what was expected of us. And even though it was hard, it was predictable. Well, welcome to G-d's world, outside the walls of predictability. The Mei Shiloach writes about the fact that Hashem led them by day with a cloud, and by night with fire. He says that in the day, when you think everything is clear, then you get a cloud -- vague, ambiguous. When it is night, and things are not clear, then you get a fire -- clear, direct. Sorry. Predictability doesn't seem to be the highest priority for Hashem.
In fact, when the people of Israel came to Marah, and found bitter waters there, Hashem showed Moshe a stick to throw into the water, and it turned the waters sweet. There, Hashem told Moshe the "Law" -- specifically, "If you listen well to the voice of Hashem your G-d…and if you listen to His commandments…then the ailments which I put on Egypt I will not out on you, for I am Hashem your Healer." The only factor which combines all of these events, the only rule by which to decide to fight or not, to sing or not, to sing alone or together, to use the staff or the hand or the voice, to hold back or to contribute, when the law is not already clearly dictated, is to listen well. There is no other way. Attempting to build a system, a sure-fire way of knowing what to do, this is the sickness of Egypt, from which Hashem is trying to heal us. And if you seek that way long enough, then either you will fail and break apart, or you will succeed and lock yourself up. If you want to live with G-d, then you must let go of what you know, and learn how to be with Him. Granted, there are commandments, which guide us consistently. But even those must be listened to, not just obeyed, if we hope to let them be conduits of relationship and not just safe havens from having to choose constantly anew to be with G-d.
This is the initiation to being G-d's people, setting the tone for thousands of years of history, of trying to be with G-d as He moves through time. Science, or not? Modernity or not? Exposure, or not? Adaptation, or not? The only choice is to listen, to try harder and harder to hear what G-d is saying, to be clear on why we are so sure, whether it may just be a need for security in a relationship that requires the capacity to self-nullify time after time after time.
Rav Raz Hartman
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Rav Raz Hartman, born to Israeli parents, grew up in Southern California. He was attending U.S.C., majoring in Music Peformance, when he met Rav Natan Greenberg. That meeting eventually result in Raz's coming to the Bat Ayin Yeshiva, where he studied for six years and was given Semichah in 2003. He is married to Leah, and they live, with their three children, in Nachla'ot, Jerusalem. Raz serves as Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshivat Simchat Shlomo, and founder of the v'Ani Tefillah minyan. He has produced several albums of Jewish music. |