Earlier this week, I was visiting a friend in Tel Aviv, and I suggested that we have a dinner of pretzels and humus on the beach. I figured that since it was a bit cold and she probably goes to the beach all the time, she'd opt for something else. To my surprise, she told me she doesn't go very often at all. All of her friends are always too busy to go, and since it's not on the way to anywhere, it's one of those "out of sight/out of mind" things. So we get to the beach and are instantly blown away by the marvelous beauty in front of us. "Did you see that one?" "Look at how fast that crest is moving." "That one must have sprayed up ten feet!" How could she not go to the beach more often?
In this week's parsha, the stage is set for the incredible miracles G-d will perform in liberating us from our slavery in Egypt. And though this parsha too is riddled with miracles -- baby Moses' survival at sea, the burning bush, the staff that turns into a snake - it seems no one is recognizing them as such. When Moshe is standing there in front of that burning bush, in front of G-d, he has no idea how he would be able to convince the people that he'd just talked to G-d. Keep in mind where Moses is coming from: he's a member of the royal family (The Pharaoh's adopted grandson!) who has just killed an Egyptian and has fled the country. He's not exactly on top of the world. He knows that the Jews he's supposed to liberate are afraid of him, he himself is afraid of what Pharoah will do to him, and now some voice is talking to him from a burning bush commanding him to go back to Egypt and confront his fears. Talk about "out of the frying pan and into the fire!" Moses can't imagine that a people that haven't felt the presence of G-d in four generations would believe him when he claims to be "sent by the all Mighty One to free them." To that generation, Joseph, the twelve brothers, and a time when Jews were a thriving nation were just fairy tales. How were they going to connect to G-d at a time when they feel so abandoned?
The Ishbitzer teaches us that Moses figured that the only way to make the Jewish people believe in G-d would be through a big snap-crackle-poppin' miracle. Something that would convince them and show them unmistakably that G-d was IT! Because really, on the deepest level, that was the real slavery they were in. The slavery of seeing the world as it was; Egypt. Pyramids. Hardwork. Pain. But Moses didn't quite get it. If, at that moment, he had been able to see into the future, he would have realized that even a big bold miracle isn't enough to ensure belief. Only forty days after we received the Torah on Mount Sinai, amidst thunder and lightning, we built a golden calf…doesn't sound like we were totally sold on the whole "Torah" idea.
The Ishbitzer explains further that really, the way to connect to G-d and believe in G-d is through the heart. But there's no big BOOM, no blazing lights there; only the deepest, truest belief. Those miracles with a capital "M" are things that fade with time thanks to the incredible power of our minds to forget. An unfortunate trait during final exam week, it's absolutely necessary to survive the pain of mistakes that we make and of hurt we that suffer. So our belief in G-d, our confidence in our real part in the connection to the source of life, doesn't rest on the power of our mind alone. The Tin Man was right on. It's our non-intellectual, purely instinctual blood bank of our heart that's the pulse behind our connection.
So why is it so important to "see" through the heart? Well, because our eyes have this funny habit of seeing what they want to see, of making rationalizations till the cows come home. But when we see with our heart, our brain doesn't get in the way. When I was sitting on that beach I could've thought about those amazing waves as a mere result of tides caused by the moon's gravitational pull. I could think of the amazing smell of a rose as a scent produced to attract bees and insure pollination. I could think of a baby's birth as the last step in a biological process that happens 72,000 times a day. Or, I could "see" with my heart. Miracles are happening all around us, right in front of us, inside of us everyday. We MAKE miracles everyday. According to Webster's, a miracle is "a remarkable thing." The ocean fits that definition, so do human beings. You - the one taking the time to read this daff and think of the way you are seeing, feeling, and connecting to life in this unbelievable world - are a miracle.
It's a good thing there are so many miracles, because while they're not the end of our connection with G-d, they're a means to get there. It is said that the first sin wasn't eating from the tree in the Garden of Eden, rather it was that trees didn't come out of the ground with their fibers and bark tasting the same as the fruit on their branches. Rav Kook explains that this separation between ends and means is the biggest obstacle we face in this world. It's not enough for the fruit to be sweet, the path taken to reach the fruit must be equally as sweet. We've all heard that it's not where you're going, but how you get there that counts. Rav Kook says they're both crucial. Our challenge is to find the miracles that can liberate us; to experience them, share them, and then make them happen ourselves.