TEMPLE EMANUEL
CHERRY HILL, NEW JERSEY
SHABBAT SHALOM FROM TEMPLE EMANUEL
WE HOPE THIS WILL ADD TO YOUR FAMILY'S ENJOYMENT OF SHABBAT
Shabbat February 4,2012 - 11 Shevat 5772
Parashat B'shalach - Exodus 13:17 - 17:16
Parasha Overview
- The Children of Israel escape across the Sea of Reeds from Pharaoh and his army, who drown when God drives back the sea. (13:17-14:31)
- Moses and the Israelites sing a song praising Adonai. (15:1-21)
- In the wilderness, God provides the grumbling Israelites with quails and manna. God instructs the Israelites to gather and prepare on the sixth day food needed for Shabbat. (15:22-16:36)
- The people complain about the lack of water. Moses hits a rock with his rod and brings forth water. (17:1-7)
- Israel defeats Amalek, Israel's eternal enemy. God vows to blot out the memory of Amalek from the world. (17:8-16)
In B’shalach, we read about several miracles as the people of Israel safely cross the Sea of Reeds, have their hunger and thirst in the desert satisfied and emerge victorious from their first battle as a free people.
"When Pharaoh sent the people out (B’shalach)", God led them through the wilderness as a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night. Once again, Pharaoh has a change of heart. He decides to go after the Israelites with 600 chariots and soldiers. Trapped between Pharaoh's army and the Sea of Reeds, the Israelites are afraid and accuse Moses of taking them into the wilderness to die. God directs Moses to lift his rod over the water and the sea parts, allowing the Israelites to pass through it on dry ground. When the Egyptians follow them into the sea, the waters close over them and all of the Egyptians drown. Moses and the Israelites sing a song to God, retelling the story of their rescue and praising God for delivering them to safety. Miriam the prophetess, sister of Aaron and Moses, also leads the women in song and dance.
The Israelites continue on their journey and run short of water and food. At Marah, they find the water bitter until God shows Moses how to make it sweet. As their food provisions grow smaller, they accuse Moses of taking them into the wilderness to starve. God explains that bread will come for them from the sky, but that they may only gather enough each morning for that one day or else it will become spoiled. God tells them that on the sixth day, they may gather enough for two days because the seventh day is to be a day of rest.
At Rephidim, the Amalekites come to fight with the Israelites. Moses sits atop a hill with his arms held aloft by Aaron and Hur and instead of being overwhelmed by the enemy, the Israelites prevail. At the conclusion of the battle, God says, "I will utterly blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven (Exodus 17:14)."
D'VAR TORAH
Years ago, Julius Lester, a black Jew-by-choice, was asked why more African-Americans aren’t converting to Judaism. He responded that it is due to that fact that most Jews lack a sense of joy in their Judaism. Blacks know how to sing and worship with celebration, but many Jews in America do not.
After crossing the Red Sea, our Israelite ancestors had every reason to weep. We have all seen footage of more recent victims of persecution at their moment of liberation. When the Allied soldiers arrived at Auschwitz and Madjanek, no one danced and no one laughed. Had they been given timbrels, they would have stared, downtrodden and shocked.
After crossing the Red Sea from the dark narrowness of Egypt, our ancestors had every reason to weep. But instead they sang, they danced, they celebrated: Moses with song and Miriam with song and dance. So spiritually high did they ascend that God felt the need to remind them and the angels to tone it down since God had lost “children” that day, namely, the Egyptian soldiers.
Many Jews today are searching for greater meaning, relevance, and accessibility in their worship. As a result, several congregations in our Jewish community are engaged in Synagogue 2000, a strategic initiative that includes plans, systems theories, and population studies. We have rabbis blaming cantors and cantors blaming rabbis, clergy blaming lay apathy, and lay people blaming clergy dullness. But the one thing we all agree upon is that our worship lacks something.
And who is the victim? I would say that the victim is Shabbat. Poor Shabbat! She is burdened with bearing all of our community’s needs. If you want to mourn, you go to Shabbat services. If you want to heal, you go to Shabbat services. If you want to shep naches, “joyful satisfaction,” from your children participating at temple, you go to Shabbat services. If you want to learn, you go to hear the Shabbat sermon. And if you want to participate, you attend Shabbat services.
And so the sh’lichei tzibur, “service leaders,” have to satisfy all of these competing needs. I recently received a call from an unaffiliated person who said that his loved one’s yahrzeit, “anniversary of death,” fell on a Tuesday this year, and he wanted to know on which Shabbat he should be mourning, the one before or the one after that Tuesday.
How could I tell him that the day of memory is that Tuesday? How could I say that showing up on the nearest Shabbat to that Tuesday is merely compensating for the fact that most of our people do not pray daily?
In the old days, healing and participation took place during the Torah service on Saturday. Today, the bar mitzvah has swallowed Shabbat. In the old days, you prayed at the shivah minyanim that took place in your home during the seven days of mourning, and you attended a daily minyan at synagogue when a loved one’s yahrzeit fell, usually on a weekday. In the old days, if you wanted to learn Torah, the Friday night service was the last place you’d go: You studied Torah at other times.
Today, in most Reform synagogues, all of these needs are supposed to be met on Erev Shabbat, Friday night. But with so much going on, one might be distracted rather than focused during the Shabbat worship experience. In chapter 2 of his Talmudic commentary on Shabbat, Rashi states that most people in his time sat in the dark on weeknights because they could not afford wood or oil. What they were saving their pennies for was Friday night, when they put one light in each of their two rooms. What was the purpose? Was it so that they would see well enough not to bump into one another? No, it was for Oneg, for “joy.”
Ironically, today we usually engage in our Oneg after services. We save our celebration for the room with the cookies and punch. Although we come on time to services and behave ourselves, we smile little and dance never.
In addition, while some people prefer their Shabbat services to provide an individual experience of serenity, calm, and meditation, I think the primary value that Shabbat services present is the opportunity for us to worship and celebrate together as a community. After all, Shabbat is twenty-five hours long, of which synagogue services consume only one or two hours. We have the remaining twenty-three hours to spend in private contemplation, take a walk, breathe the outside air, and rest. Serenity and meditation can be achieved in solitude. But for celebration, we need community.
My dream for our synagogues and Jewish homes is that they generate more joy and celebration. If we all go to synagogue on a Friday night prepared to celebrate and rejoice, then we may someday match our African-American cousins-in-slavery by worshiping with energy and perhaps even with ecstasy. And then maybe I’ll gasp and weep in shul the way I gasp and weep when I see beautiful mountains and stunning sunsets; the way our ancestors did when Ezra the Scribe read from the Torah for the first time; the way the men sang with Moses and the women danced with Miriam.
COMMENTARY
The Shabbat when Parashat B’shalach is read is called Shabbat Shirah, the Sabbath of Song, named in honor of the song that is sung by Moses and the People of Israel after they cross the Sea of Reeds. Traditionally, the congregation stands when the song is read as a sign of our gratitude to God for our rescue. (The only other time that the congregation stands during a Torah reading is when the Ten Commandments are read). In the morning and evening services, the Song is quoted as part of the Geulah or "Blessing of Redemption":
Mi Chamocha ba-aylim Adonai... Who is like You, Eternal One, among the gods that are worshipped? Who is like You, majestic in holiness, awesome in splendor, doing wonders?"
DID YOU KNOW...that God's instructions to collect a double portion of manna on the sixth day (Exodus 16:22) are used as the explanation of why it is traditional to have 2 loaves of challah on the Shabbat dinner table.
Real Angel Food by Dan Levin
I love to sing. A large piece of what moves me in prayer is the music. There are times when I love to sit back and hear a beautiful piece of music; but most of the time in our synagogue; we try to inspire the congregation to sing with us. It isn’t easy. Asking people to sing is often like pulling teeth.
People tend to feel more open to singing when they are absolutely comfortable. It’s scary to sing in public. We sing when everything in life is good, when we are overcome with joy, and often, when we are swept up in the energy of everyone singing around us.
The Israelites experience this joy in our portion this week. Having experienced the extraordinary deliverance by God through the parted waters of the sea, knowing that the enemy that has enslaved them for centuries is finally vanquished, they erupt in song and dance. But the midrash tells us that when the angels too broke into song, God scolded them: “My creatures are drowning in the sea, and you would sing songs to me?” (Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 39b). All is not right in God’s world; it is no time for song.
The melody of song is soon replaced by the cacophony of grumbling. The Israelites gather against Moses and Aaron as food becomes scarce. In their hunger, they forget their past, and lament they no longer have their fill of bread. In response to the grumbling, God provides manna, “bread . . . from the sky” (Exodus 16:4). Each shall gather according to his or her need and find relief from hunger.
From the ecstatic joy of their miraculous deliverance, the Israelites quickly return to the reality of life in the wilderness. They have needs and wants, thirst that needs to be slaked, hungers that need to be satisfied. But even more than food and water, what do we truly need to be satisfied?
The Chasidic teacher known as the S’fat Emet was one of the last great masters of Polish Chasidism. In his commentary on this week’s portion, he cites a passage from Proverbs: “Go, eat My food and drink of the wine I have poured” (Proverbs 9:5).
Looking to this week’s portion, he understands that when God sent down the manna, it was, as the text says, “lechem min-hashamayim, (literally, ‘food from heaven’).”1
The Midrash in Tanna D’Vei Eliyahu states that when Abraham served a meal to the three angels who visited him, they ate of Abraham’s food even though as angels they had no need to eat. Thus they repaid his kindness by sending their food for Abraham’s descendants to eat. But if angels have no need of food, then what was it they sent for the Israelites to eat?
Thus the S’fat Emet teaches us that it was Torah that God fed the Israelites to sustain them on their journey, for the angels find their hunger is for divine wisdom, and it is Torah that satisfies their need. Therefore, when God feeds the Israelites “food from heaven,” it is not simply food for their bellies, but also food for their souls.
But there is a famous adage taught by Rabbi Elazar ben Azaryah: “Where there is no bread [literally, flour], there will be no Torah.”2 In order for us truly to be free, to be able to journey through the wilderness and make it to the Promised Land, then we need physical as well as spiritual sustenance. One is not enough.
If God had simply wanted the Israelites to be relieved from their physical hunger, then God could have easily provided the Israelites with mortal food. For example, in Numbers 11:32, when the Israelites complain of hunger, God provides quail for them to eat. Clearly, in giving manna for the Israelites to eat, God is trying to teach something more.
In order for the Israelites to truly be satisfied, they need food for their bodies and food for their souls. Thus the S’fat Emet teaches that it is customary for us to enjoy two loaves of challah on each Shabbat. One loaf is to represent our physical sustenance, as our blessing reminds us: HaMotzi lechem min haaretz, “who brings forth bread from the earth.” The second loaf represents our spiritual sustenance: lechem min-hashamayim, “food from heaven.”
When we are privileged to have our fill of both physical and spiritual nourishment, food from the earth and Torah from heaven, then we will celebrate Shabbat and life with complete joy, the kind of joy where both we and the angels can sing together.
Rabbi Dan Levin is the senior rabbi at Temple Beth El of Boca Raton, Florida.
Freedom: An American–Jewish Struggle by Penny M. Kessler
A microcosm of the differences in American and Jewish perspectives on freedom can be found in comparing typical American and Jewish coming-of-age experiences.
In American culture, sixteenth birthdays typically are celebrated by declaring independence from parental transportation with a driver's license, eighteenth birthdays by registering to vote, and twenty-first birthdays in a bar. Except for the ability and privilege of participating in the democratic process at eighteen, major American age-related life-cycle events celebrate freedom from authority.
Compare this with the bar mitzvah and bat mitzvah experience. Those of us who teach, guide, and mentor b'nei mitzvah are aware that one of our roles is to implant the idea that bar mitzvah and bat mitzvah have meaning beyond a party or an immediate exit from Jewish life. We encourage mitzvah projects that involve the student and family. We sometimes go so far as to require that b'nei mitzvah continue their formal religious school studies through confirmation, although we pray that we have developed enough of a relationship with our students that they will want to continue to grow and study Jewish subjects with us beyond seventh grade.
We hope our students will struggle with—rather than give in to—the gravitational pull of an American world's mentality of” Thank God that's over, now I can get back to (pick a hobby)."
It takes a monumental effort to keep our youth and their parents engaged beyond bar mitzvah and bat mitzvah, especially if they saw that experience as something to get through just to get out. We are not always successful, but we carry on. Like our Torah portion, our role is to impress on our students and parents that bar mitzvah and bat mitzvah is not the end of Jewish involvement, as in “freedom from . . . ," but rather the beginning of a new phase of Jewish life, as in “freedom to. . . ."
Cantor Penny M. Kessler is the cantor at United Jewish Center in Danbury, Connecticut
The Desire to Quit by Adam Lieberman
Even though the Jewish people had just personally witnessed an awesome series of miracles, God knew that at the first sign of trouble they would want to return to Egypt and back to their lives of slavery.
How many times have you set a goal for yourself and the moment something didn't go as smoothly as you had planned, you immediately experienced self-doubt and seriously questioned your ability, worthiness, and even the goal itself? And the dream that you were so certain you wanted ends up slowly drifting into the large sea of the other unaccomplished goals and dreams you had in the past. Isn't it amazing that on Monday you knew exactly what you wanted with crystal clear clarity and had a solid game plan to achieve it, and by Wednesday you're about to give up?
The reason for all of this is due to two internal, distinct and powerful drives that God gave as a gift to all of us. One drive wants to change the world, climb the highest mountains, and leave the planet in a radically and more improved place than it now exists. The other drive will then challenge, question, and doubt every part of this journey and try with all its might to prevent you from never accomplishing anything.
Why would God, who loves us more than words could ever express, give us a desire not to grow, succeed, or experience the pleasure of great accomplishments?
The answer is simple: Only through struggle and fighting the burning desire to quit can we ever have the unbelievable joy and ecstasy that comes from achievement. If God knew the Jews would want to run back to slavery at the first challenge they encountered after just witnessing all of the miracles that He preformed for them, then clearly the drive to quit and retreat is alive and well within all of us. It doesn't matter how big, great, or strong you are -- this force will always be there.
Knowledge is power and by knowing that this "drive to quit" was designed by God to actually make you great will now give you the ability to see it for what it is: A test. Will you recognize that this drive's only purpose is to get you NOT to change the world and then fight through the urge to run away, or do you stop in your tracks and question your very existence?
Every time you begin a project, start an exercise program, want to launch a new career, or go towards any meaningful goal, you must know that you will encounter a war. This war might be disguised as the people who tell you that cannot succeed, or the rejection you face, or the obstacles you'll inevitably encounter. Remember, you were "pre-designed" by God to have a burning urge to retreat to Egypt. Make no mistake about it, you will be tested.
Great men and women have all faced the exact same tests and they have doubted themselves and all had the urge to quit. But for them, going back to Egypt was not an option. So they instead kept their eye on the ball and kicked their self- doubt in its shin's and went on to greatness. And people look at their great success stories and bemoan to all who'll listen that they too would have achieved greatest if they had the same circumstances. And that's the great irony -- their circumstances aren't just the same, but identical. The circumstance was the desire to quit. Great men and women blast through it, while others reconsider when they see a war and return to Egypt.
So, while having a good plan is important, not giving up on it is everything. And sometimes even after you choose to fight the war, you might not win. But take much comfort in knowing that it's completely up to God whether or not you'll have the strength and ability to win the war. But that was never the point. Because the purpose of the test was to just fight the war and refuse to retreat to Egypt. And since we're all designed for greatness, it's only through choosing to fight and march on that we'll inevitably experience the ecstasy of success. So the next time you want to become better in some way tomorrow than you are today, know that the great men and women of history who've achieved so much are no different than you and I. They just hung around for the war.
Adam Lieberman runs a non-profit foundation which helps Jews of all backgrounds to see the beauty and relevance of their heritage.
Jump Into the Sea by Rabbi Shraga Simmons
Moses orchestrates a full year of plagues which completely debilitates Egyptian society. After the climactic 10th and final plague, the slaying of the First Born, Pharaoh finally agrees to let the Jews leave Egypt.
But, like any good megalomaniac, Pharaoh changes his mind and chases after them. When the Jews look in their rear-view mirrors and see the thundering Egyptian chariots fast approaching, panic spreads. The Jews feel trapped. There is no other outlet but the sea - the Red Sea.
The Jews begin to berate Moses: "Why did you have to bring us out here to die in the desert? You should have just left us alone to work for the Egyptians!" (Exodus 14:11-12)
Ludicrous! How could the Jews, after 210 years of intolerable suffering in Egypt, complain to Moses for liberating them?!
About 20 years ago, an incident occurred in Stockholm where terrorists captured and held hostages. The hostages were abused both physically and emotionally. At the news conference following their release, the hostages all spoke in complimentary, glowing terms about their captors! Psychologists have since identified the "Stockholm Syndrome," whereby prisoners develop comfort and satisfaction in captivity.
For the Jews in Egypt, life was comfortable. In slavery, the rations may be meager and the bed made of straw, but there's an up-side as well: all one's needs are provided, and there are no challenging decisions to be made. No laundry, no shopping, no deals, no deadlines. The Hebrew word for Egypt, "Mitzrayim," means a "place of confinement." Sometimes it's the smallest box which makes us feel the most secure.
ONE GIANT LEAP
Three million Jews are standing at the shores of the Red Sea. Their options are either to go forward into the un-split sea, or back to Egypt. The sea is cold, strange and foreboding. Egypt is warm, familiar and comfortable.
The Egyptians are thundering closer. The Jews are panicked. And then Nachshon, from the tribe of Yehuda, steps foot into the sea. (The original "one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.") But the sea still does not split. Nachshon continues as the water reaches his ankles, then up to his knees. Still no split. Nachshon forges deeper: Up to his waist, his chest. Still no split.
Nachshon's mind races: Maybe we should return to Egypt. Then he reminds himself: Life is about growing ... leaving the place of confinement behind... moving forward into the unknown ... But the alternative - to stay in our small space of warmth and comfort, is to choose stagnation and, ultimately, death. Egypt, Nachshon knew, was no option at all.
By now the water has reached his neck. Nachshon is being challenged to his limit. Yet he continues into the sea. As the water reaches his nostrils, at this last possible moment... the Red Sea splits. The Jewish People all rush in after him. Finally, freedom.
SELF ESTEEM
Although every Jew passed through on dry land, the experience of Nachshon was qualitatively different. When Nachshon walked through the sea, he was alive and invigorated. The future had issued its challenge, and Nachshon confronted it head-on. Slavery was baggage he'd left behind. He was liberated, both body and soul.
Contrast this to the experience of the rest of the Jewish People. The others, having entered only after the sea split, were in one sense disappointed in themselves for not having the bravery of Nachshon. Nachshon "entered the water first" (Exodus 14:22); the others "entered first on dry land" (14:29).
The Gaon of Vilna (18th century Europe) offers a beautiful insight: In describing the experience of Nachshon, the Torah says "and the water formed a wall" (Exodus 14:22). But for the rest of the people, the Hebrew word for wall, "choma," is spelled peculiarly - without a Vav. This can be read "Chaima," meaning anger. The Torah is reflecting each Jews' disappointment (and God's "anger") for not having had the courage to fulfill their own potential. The growth opportunity had been lost forever.
BREAKING OUT
The Red Sea appears in our own lives as well. Ultimately, the story of our lives comes down to a few key moments of decision. These spell the difference between a life of achievement versus one of regret. Often we procrastinate until the best option no longer remains. The door is closed and we comfort ourselves by saying, "Oh well, what could I do, things just didn't work out."
This Shabbat, as we read the portion of Beshalach, take a few minutes and ask yourself:
- What negative situation am I perpetuating simply because I am not willing to make the effort to change?
- Why am I afraid to change?
- What is the worst thing that can possibly happen?
- What is holding me back from achieving my full potential?
- In 10 years from now, what decision will I regret not having made?
Sometimes the answer is just "do it." To jump into the sea.
The question was once asked of Rebbe Nachman of Breslov, the great 18th century Chassidic leader: "What if someone feels distant from God and Torah? How can he enter the 'loop' of spirituality which on one hand is so appealing, yet on the other hand is intimidating?" Rebbe Nachman answered: "Go to a Shabbat table and sing a niggun (melody). Sing it with zest and verve, with feeling from deep in your soul. That's the way to jump in."
LIFE'S CRESCENDO
Unfortunately, our lives are not equipped with background music reaching its crescendo, to alert us that the "big moment" has arrived. Our only hope of escaping the confines of Egypt is to honestly confront our fears and embrace the opportunities that God gives us to grow.
Of course, we cannot always know what's waiting on the other side of the sea. But that's part of the beauty. It's our chance to become invigorated with the fullness of life.
The Torah tells us: Nachshon chose life. We must do the same. The feeling is liberating. Our self-esteem depends on it. And it is our only true option.
CROSSING THE SEA OF REEDS WAS EASIER THAN CROSSING THE "SEA OF PEACE"
Shlomo Bar-Nissim
As I started reading this week's portion, Parashat B'shalach, I could not believe its implication for what is currently happening in Israel. Exodus 13:19 tells us: "And Moses took with him the bones of Joseph, who had exacted an oath from the Children of Israel, saying, 'God will be sure to take notice of you: Then you shall carry up my bones from here with you.'" Oy vey! What a burial site they chose! One that a few thousand years later would become the center of friction and violence between Arabs and Jews and would cause the death of dozens of young Israeli soldiers.
There is no archaeological proof or scientific evidence that this is truly the site where Joseph is buried. Why do we need to endanger the lives of young soldiers who are protecting the so-called Tomb of Joseph? This site, located at the edge of the city of Nablus, has become a yeshiva established by the extreme right settlers to strengthen their claim to all of Eretz Yisrael.
Many Israelis, me included, have supported the idea of closing the site to save lives and promote peace. I was very glad to hear that the Chief Sephardic Rabbi issued a halachic rule that the site may be closed for piku-ach nefesh, "saving lives." I heaved a sigh of relief when, on the day after Yom Kippur, it was indeed closed. However, I, like many millions of Jews, was outraged by the savage destruction and burning of the site. That action shattered my hope for peace and coexistence between Arabs and Jews.
The main theme in Parashat B'shalach is the crossing of the Sea of Reeds. There is a Midrash that teaches us that the sea did not part until a brave man named Nachshon jumped into the water. Then the sea parted and the others followed him. Each generation needs a Nachshon of its own. I consider the late Yitzchak Rabin to be the Nachshon of our time. He jumped into the stormy sea of peace, hoping to reach the other shore, but he unfortunately drowned. He drowned in the raging waves of sinat achim, "hatred of brothers," caused by the extreme-right politicians in Israel and by the waves of sinat Yisrael, "hatred of Israel," caused by the terror organizations Islamic Jihad and Hamas. Those who followed Rabin are still struggling in the waves. It took the ancient Israelites forty years to traverse the wilderness of Sinai after the crossing of the Sea of Reeds. But it took the modern Israelites more than forty years of wandering in the wilderness of violence and war just to arrive at the shores of the "Sea of Peace." A few months ago they almost succeeded in reaching the other shore, but the unpredictable climate of the Middle East drew them back into the stormy waters.
As we sing in "Hatikva," Od lo av'da tikvateinu, "Our hope is not yet lost," we may yet see our yearning for peace realized in our own time. When that day comes, then we can sing in our daily prayer the Mi Chamocha that first appears in this parashah: "Who is like You, Adonai, among the celestials;/ Who is like You, majestic in holiness,/ Awesome in splendor, working wonders!" (Exodus 15:11) Let us fervently hope that we can add the words v'Oseh Hashalom, "Maker of Peace."
Shlomo Bar-Nissim is the cantor emeritus at Temple Beth El in Closter, NJ
Structure versus Variety by Elizabeth Dunsker
If you were stranded on a desert island and could only eat one kosher food for the rest of your life, what would it be? When I have posed that question to high school students, the most reasoned responses have included veggie pizza, and salmon or tuna sushi, as these meals would provide protein, vegetables, and carbohydrates in each bite. However, even once we consider kashrut, taste, and nutritional requirements, we are still stuck with the question of whether or not we would be content with same food for every meal every day.
As omnivores, we humans can create a healthy diet from all kinds of foods, and our systems work best when we do vary what we eat on a seasonal basis at the very least. But we also crave structure and we often perform better on many levels when there is a strong presence of dependability and predictability in our lives.
Given that the lives of the Israelites were so unpredictable; they had to pack up and travel at the whim of God and stop to make camp at the same whim. There was no safety for them; they were regularly attacked by enemies and often, even by God, when they misbehaved. Their path was unclear to them with death as the only ending in sight. With so much of their lives out of their control, the stability and regularity of their food should have been, at least, the one thing they didn’t have to worry about. And yet they complain and rebel against the manna. Perhaps the test was whether or not they could leave everything in God’s hands, including their food. The Israelites were in their infancy as a free people, and like a good parent, God fed us what we needed—something that would fulfill our needs for nutrition, taste, and kashrut. However, as humans we struggle for more than just stability and variety: perhaps for the Israelites, food was the one place where they hoped to take control of their own lives.
The question that remains is whether or not we passed the test. Were we meant to be content with the regularity that God provided, or were we supposed to prove our maturity by striving for more variety and more control over our own lives?
Rabbi Elizabeth Dunsker is the rabbi at Congregation Kol Ami in Vancouver, Washington.
SHRAGA'S WEEKLY by Rabbi Shraga Simmons
Moses orchestrates a full year of plagues which completely debilitates Egyptian society. After the climactic 10th and final plague, the slaying of the First Born, Pharaoh finally agrees to let the Jews leave Egypt.
But, like any good megalomaniac, Pharaoh changes his mind and chases after them. When the Jews look in their rear-view mirrors and see the thundering Egyptian chariots fast approaching, panic spreads. The Jews feel trapped. There is no other outlet but the sea - the Red Sea.
The Jews begin to berate Moses: "Why did you have to bring us out here to die in the desert? You should have just left us alone to work for the Egyptians!" (Exodus 14:11-12)
Ludicrous! How could the Jews, after 210 years of intolerable suffering in Egypt, complain to Moses for liberating them?!
About 20 years ago, an incident occurred in Stockholm where terrorists captured and held hostages. The hostages were abused both physically and emotionally. At the news conference following their release, the hostages all spoke in complimentary, glowing terms about their captors! Psychologists have since identified the "Stockholm Syndrome," whereby prisoners develop comfort and satisfaction in captivity.
For the Jews in Egypt, life was comfortable. In slavery, the rations may be meager and the bed made of straw, but there's an up-side as well: all one's needs are provided, and there are no challenging decisions to be made. No laundry, no shopping, no deals, no deadlines. The Hebrew word for Egypt, "Mitzrayim," means a "place of confinement." Sometimes it's the smallest
box which makes us feel the most secure.
Three million Jews are standing at the shores of the Red Sea. Their options are either to go forward into the un-split sea, or back to Egypt. The sea is cold, strange and foreboding. Egypt is warm, familiar and comfortable.
The Egyptians are thundering closer. The Jews are panicked. And then Nachshon, from the tribe of Yehuda, steps foot into the sea. (The original "one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.") But the sea still does not split. Nachshon continues as the water reaches his ankles, then up to his knees. Still no split. Nachshon forges deeper: Up to his waist, his chest. Still no split.
Nachshon's mind races: Maybe we should return to Egypt. Then he reminds himself: Life is about growing... leaving the place of confinement behind... Moving forward into the unknown... But the alternative - to stay in our small space of warmth and comfort, is to choose stagnation and, ultimately, death. Egypt, Nachshon knew, was no option at all.
By now the water has reached his neck. Nachshon is being challenged to his limit. Yet he continues into the sea. As the water reaches his nostrils, at this last possible moment... the Red Sea splits. The Jewish People all rush in after him. Finally, freedom.
Although every Jew passed through on dry land, the experience of Nachshon was qualitatively different. When Nachshon walked through the sea, he was alive and invigorated. The future had issued its challenge, and Nachshon confronted it head-on. Slavery was baggage he'd left behind. He was liberated, both body and soul.
Contrast this to the experience of the rest of the Jewish People. The others, having entered only after the sea split, were in one sense disappointed in themselves for not having the bravery of Nachshon. Nachshon "entered the water first" (Exodus 14:22); the others "entered first on dry land" (14:29).
The Gaon of Vilna (18th century Europe) offers a beautiful insight: In describing the experience of Nachshon, the Torah says "and the water formed a wall" (14:22). But for the rest of the people, the Hebrew word for wall, "choma," is spelled peculiarly - without a Vav. This can be read "Chaima," meaning anger. The Torah is reflecting each Jews' disappointment (and God's "anger") for not having had the courage to fulfill their own potential. The growth opportunity had been lost forever.
The Red Sea appears in our own lives as well. Ultimately, the story of our lives comes down to a few key moments of decision. These spell the difference between a life of achievement versus one of regret. Often we procrastinate until the best option no longer remains. The door is closed and we comfort ourselves by saying, "Oh well, what could I do, things just didn't work out."
This Shabbat, as we read the portion of Beshalach, take a few minutes and ask yourself:
- What negative situation am I perpetuating simply because I am not willing to make the effort to change?
- Why am I afraid to change?
- What is the worst thing that can possibly happen?
- What is holding me back from achieving my full potential?
- In 10 years from now, what decision will I regret not having made?
Sometimes the answer is just "do it." To jump into the sea.
The question was once asked of Rebbe Nachman of Breslov, the great 18th century Chassidic leader: "What if someone feels distant from God and Torah? How can they enter the 'loop' of spirituality which on one hand is so appealing, yet on the other hand is intimidating?" Rebbe Nachman answered: "Go to a Shabbat table and sing a niggun (melody). Sing it with zest and verve, with feeling from deep in your soul. That's the way to jump in."
Unfortunately, our lives are not equipped with background music reaching it's crescendo, to alert us that the "big moment" has arrived. Our only hope of escaping the confines of Egypt is to honestly confront our fears and embrace the opportunities that God gives us to grow.
Of course, we cannot always know what's waiting on the other side of the sea. But that's part of the beauty. It's our chance to become invigorated with the fullness of life.
The Torah tells us: Nachshon chose life. We must do the same. The feeling is liberating. Our self-esteem depends on it. And it is our only true option.
Family Parsha for Parents and Kids by Nesanel Safran
It is not always easy to feel satisfied with what we have. Even if someone has more than he could possibly use, he can feel like he wants to grab even more. In this week's Torah portion, as the Jewish people were sojourning in the desert, God wanted to teach them the important lesson of trusting Him and being content with whatever they had. He provided them with special food called manna. But they only received exactly what they needed for that day alone.
Some people worried. "What will be for tomorrow?" they asked themselves. They tried to grab more than their fair share and hide it away. But God miraculously made it that when they brought the food home it only measured out to one portion and no more. As time went on and the people realized that they were only getting what they needed each day, they stopped grabbing and began to feel much more happy and content. We can also learn to live this way, and feel more contentment in our lives.
In our story a boy teaches his friend a lesson in contentment.
"OUT OF LINE"
The normally quiet dining hall of the River Valley Summer camp had erupted into a frenzy of activity. While nobody complained about the food, it certainly wasn't anything worth running after. But today the word was out that a group of the camp's directors who had visited earlier that day had left extra-special snack food super- packs for all of the campers as a special treat. They were giving them out to the kids today in the dining hall with lunch!
Although the staff kept assuring everyone that there was plenty to go around, the kids made a mad dash to get to the front of the line and there was a lot of pushing and shoving. Aaron Segal and his friend Scott found themselves in the middle of the fray. Scott was really getting into the pushing, his eyes lit up with fierce determination to get ahead. He turned around and noticed that Aaron was lagging behind and not shoving ahead.
"C'mon Aaron, you're stronger than me. Push ahead!" he said, diverting an elbow away from his face. "Don't you want to get a super-pack?"
"Sure I want one. Why do you think I'm standing in this, uh ... line?" answered Aaron, managing a smile from within the crush. "But why should I push and shove like a maniac? Either way I'm going to get one. They have plenty. I saw them unloading the cartons behind the dining hall."
As he spoke, an excited redhead pushed ahead of him. Scott rolled his eyes. "But what if they run out? The only way to get ahead is to push. You can hang behind if you want, but I'm going to make sure that I get what's coming to me!"
Aaron, who was already falling further and further back in the line, just shrugged. "Everyone here is going to get what's coming to him no matter what," he repeated and remained standing patiently in line.
Later on the two friends met up again outside the dining hall. Scott was licking chocolate off of his hands, but he looked really unhappy. "Are you okay?" asked Aaron.
Scott, breathing hard from the scuffle, huffed. "What do you think? When I got to the front of the line, all of the super-packs were crushed from the pushing and grabbing. The one they gave me was missing half the stuff, and had fingerprints all over it. Yuchh! But at least I got one. I can't imagine what they looked like by the time you got to the front of the line. Did you even get one at all?"
Aaron blushed. He hesitated a moment then spoke. "Well, actually, I got ... two. By the time we stragglers made it to the front of the line, the place had pretty much cleared out. The kitchen staff had found a couple of extra cartons of the super-packs tucked away. They were in perfect shape. They wanted to give them all out before there was another stampede, so they gave us each two."
Scott stared at his friend in wide-eyed disbelief. "Looks like all my pushing actually led to nowhere."
QUESTIONS
Ages 3-5
Q. How did Scott feel when he saw that Aaron wasn't pushing like he was?
A. He felt that his friend was going to miss out getting what was coming to him.
Q. How did he feel after he met up with Aaron again?
A. He realized that even without pushing, Aaron had gotten even more than he, himself had. God will give us what we need without having to push others away to get it.
Ages 6-9
Q. Which boy had a better approach toward getting what he needed? Why?
A. Although at first look it seemed as though Scott was more clued in than Aaron. He was pushing ahead and grabbing what was rightfully his. But actually in the end he was just wasting a lot of his time and energy. Aaron also put in an effort. He showed up and endured the line. But he trusted that God would give him what was coming to him without having to act wild and possibly injure himself or others to get it. In the end he was proven right.
Q. What could someone learn from the experience of having just what he needs and not more?
A. It might seem scary at first. A person likes to feel the security of having more than enough. But after a time he will be able to see how whenever he really needs something, God will send it to him in the most amazing ways. He will start to feel less dependent on his possessions and more connected to God's unceasing care. Like Aaron in the story he will realize that he needn't abandon his principles in order to get what he needs.
Ages 10 and Up
Q. Our sages teach, "Somebody who has one hundred will crave two hundred. If he has two hundred he will want four hundred." What does this statement mean to you?
A. This reveals a profound insight into human nature. A person tends to never feel satisfied with what he has. No matter what, the feeling will always creep in 'If I only had one more (fill in the blank: thousand, million, or even billion!) then I would be content.' But this contentment never lasts. This is because true contentment isn't a product of our possessions. It is a spiritual feeling that results from a trust in God's unlimited ability to fulfill our needs and to appreciate what one has. Therefore a person will discover that building up his spiritual 'bank account' will prove to be a far wiser and more fulfilling investment than any other kind.
Q. How can internalizing this idea change your relationships?
A. A lot of the tension that exists between people is a sense of lack -- a feeling that somehow I must grab from the other guy to get what I need. We should realize that God's resources are unlimited. This would lead to treating each other fairly, the way He wants us to, and we will never lose out in the end.
Shabbat Shalom,
Mayda Clarke
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