The midrash relates that when Am Yisrael was penned in by the Sea with the Egyptians fast approaching, Satan came before G-d. He said, "I know what you're up to! You're going to split the Sea for them. But they don't deserve it; they are idol worshipers, just like the Egyptians!" It was, unfortunately, true. And G-d didn't really have a response. He didn't say, "Look, that may be so, but you and I both know they kept three things intact: their names, their dress and their language." He didn't mention a certain promise to Avraham and Sons. Instead, according to this midrash, G-d said to Himself: "This situation can be compared to that of a shepherd herding his sheep, when a wolf suddenly attacks. The best thing to do in such a situation is to throw the wolf a big, strong ram, and while the wolf wrestles with it the shepherd will remove the rest of the flock from harm's way; then he will go back for the ram." So that is what G-d did: he threw Satan (the wolf) a ram (Job) and thus began the story of Job's tragedy. In the meantime, we crossed to safety, and while Satan was distracted the Egyptians were drowned.
Everybody knows that the Book of Job asks the hardest questions: why do bad things happen to good people? And ultimately, there is no answer, only a response having something to do with the fact that G-d is behind it all. This midrash is trying, among other things, to give a little more of an answer to that eternal question. Our sages and leaders have always been so sensitive to the value of human life and honor, that they asked those questions even about the suffering of the Egyptians, who obviously weren't the most righteous of peoples. So here's another midrash which shows us how the sages responded to questions of justice, suffering and compassion. It begins in a similar way:
When Am Yisrael was crossing the Sea, Uzza, the angel of Egypt, came before G-d and said, "Did You not create the world with mercy? How can You destroy my entire people?!" And G-d said, "You have a point". So all the angels started arguing, trying to convince G-d either to spare or to drown the Egyptians. When the angel Michael saw this, he didn't say a word. He went down to Egypt and took a brick out of one of the pyramid walls. A Jewish child had been buried alive by the Egyptians in this brick. Michael returned to Heaven, and wordlessly placed the brick at G-d's feet. There was sudden silence; even Uzza had nothing to say. G-d's decision was made, and the waves closed over the Egyptians. But as they were drowning, the angels started to sing G-d's praise. Amazingly, God interrupted them, asking, "How can you sing when my creations are dying?"
This is our way; we are not afraid of paradox. When we sing Az Yashir we are thanking G-d for our salvation, then and now, every day. But our singing is heard against the backdrop of the angel's silence, the silence imposed by God. Because our salvation happens at the expense of the suffering of a righteous Job. Why do bad things happen to good people? In the absence of an answer we sing and are silent at once.
Rav Ariel Burger
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Rav Ariel Burger received his ordination from Yeshivat Bat Ayin in 2003. He is currently completing his doctoral work at Boston University, where he studies under Professor Elie Weisel. Ariel lives in Sharon, Massachusetts with his wife and four children. |