This week’s parsha was B’Shalach, which features the beautiful Song at the Sea, Shirat ha-Yam. This melody elicits a sense of the Israelites' joy at their freedom from bondage and their excitement for the future. Given the beauty of the melody, it can be easy for us to gloss over the fact that the text is pretty violent. Among its many verses, Shirat Ha-Yam includes:
“I will sing to Adonai, for God has triumphed gloriously. Horse and driver God has hurled into the sea.”
“The deeps covered them. They went down into the depths like a stone.”
“You made Your wind blow, the sea covered them. They sank like lead in the majestic waters.”
This unapologetic display of joy at the death of the Egyptians might offend our modern sensibilities, but it’s also understandable and has so much to teach us about human nature and about our relationship with God.
The Israelites, pressed up against the banks of the Sea of Reeds, fleeing the advancing Egyptian army, miraculously find the water parted before them. They walk, in awe, safely between walls of water from slavery in Egypt to freedom at Sinai, and watch as God brings those waters crashing back down, drowning their pursuers - the Egyptians who oppressed them for 400 years, who threw their sons into the Nile, who would have murdered them at the sea had God not intervened. I don't blame them for rejoicing. These deaths bring closure and a definitive end to the Israelites’ enslavement. Their peace of mind comes because they have witnessed the destruction of their enemies. With the army destroyed, there is no one left to come after them.
It is a violent and vengeful act by God. The Torah explains that God goaded the Egyptians into pursuit and lured them into the sea. In Exodus chapter 14, God explains to Moses that sending the Israelites in a circle and back to the Sea of Reeds is a ploy to trick Pharaoh into thinking they are lost and will be easy to recapture. God says, “Then I will stiffen Pharaoh’s heart and he will pursue [the Israelites], that I may gain glory through Pharaoh and all his hosts.”
And when they reached the sea, God split the waters “with a strong east wind.” Ramban argues that God used wind so that the Egyptians would rationalize the parting of the sea as a natural phenomenon and not a miracle, thereby making it easier for them to charge into the sea and ultimately to their deaths. Once in the sea, God “threw the Egyptian army into a panic” and “locked the wheels of their chariots.” Based on this description, we can only conclude that God meticulously planned this series of events. This death by drowning mirrors the horror of the Israelites’ sons being thrown into the Nile. It is not only vengeance, but poetic justice.
Water is both a source of death and life. The same Nile that Pharoah used to drown a generation of Israelite boys also carried Moses to safety. The same sea that parted for the Israelites crushed the Egyptians. The lack of water and its miraculous appearance in the desert later in this parsha and throughout the Israelites’ 40-year journey through the desert will remain a constant reminder of its power over life and death. Moses is sentenced to death for striking a rock in anger to make water flow from it. The journey through the wilderness begins and ends with water as a life-saving and life-taking source of wonderment. It’s a challenging duality, as illustrated by the conflict between vengeance and compassion throughout this parsha.
God’s actions in the first part of the parsha through the end of Shirat ha-Yam lean toward a portrayal of God as vengeful. However, following the Israelites’ praise for God’s vengeance in Shirat ha-Yam, the rest of the parsha shows God to be extremely restrained and compassionate. God spends a lot of time frustrated with humanity throughout the Torah, but not in this parsha.
In Genesis, we see God’s temper, destroying humanity in the Great Flood (another example of the destructive power of water). We see God, frustrated with humanity’s sinfulness and willing to destroy entire cities, reconsider the fate of the people of Sodom and Gomorrah after Abraham suggests that they need not be destroyed. When, during their journey in the desert, the Israelites build and idolize a golden calf, God threatens to destroy them and start a new covenant with Moses, an offer that Moses (thankfully) refuses. There are plenty of examples of God’s short temper and vengeance, but this week, God is extremely patient despite a lot of complaints and doubt from the Israelites.
Whenever God is short-tempered, angry, or frustrated with humanity, I like to remember that we are made in God’s image. If I lose my temper more quickly than I’d like, or gloat too much when my team’s biggest rival suffers a humiliating loss, I can take some comfort in the fact that it’s a natural reaction, even though I know I need to strive to be better. God works on God’s own temper throughout the Torah, so it’s no failing that I need to work on mine too, as long as I actually put in the work to improve. It's no failing if your temper runs short.
In Shirat ha-Yam, the Israelites praise God for destroying the Egyptians and God responds to this praise by demonstrating love, not through vengeful protection, but through patient compassion. When, on their march through the desert, the Israelites grumble about bitter waters, God makes them sweet. When they grumble about hunger, God provides quail and manna. When they grumble again about thirst, God causes water to flow from a rock. Each time the Israelites become frustrated about their situation, they question whether it would have been better to remain in Egypt and doubt God’s power and ability to provide for them. They lack faith. God could have taken offense and punished them for each transgression, but instead of focusing on their ungratefulness, God demonstrated understanding of their underlying fears and met them with patience and compassion. Just as water can be both a source of sustenance and a source of destruction, God - and humanity made in God’s image - has the ability to be both short-tempered and compassionate.
The Israelites clearly needed God’s compassion in this parsha. They hadn’t been on the receiving end of patience or understanding for generations; they had been slaves for 400 years. And they deserved compassion, because their lives, even in freedom, would not be easy. With the larger threat of attack from the Egyptians resolved, the Israelites, of course, turned their attention to the everyday concerns of nomadic survival: of feeding themselves and their families and surviving in a hostile wilderness. When the Israelites faced an enemy, God crushed them. By destroying the Egyptian army, God offered the Israelites justice and peace of mind. But when they faced starvation and thirst, and a long period of persistent hardships, God offered them help and compassion.
As I read this parsha, I couldn't help but think about the days when we could all be together. And now, after ten and a half months and over four hundred and thirty thousand deaths, COVID has really put B'Shalach's themes of life and death and God's patience and compassion into a new light.
In the face of our own long period of hardships, we are all striving to live up to God’s example of compassion. We may not always succeed. We are all understandably on edge, our nerves frayed and patience run down by ten and a half months of life and death, of uncertainty. Of course we're struggling. I will continue to lose my temper from time to time, and if the Chiefs win the Super Bowl next week, I’ll not only celebrate, but I’ll probably also gloat about Tom Brady’s loss. I can only hope that when that happens, I am met with God’s patience and I correct myself quickly. To be made in God’s image in this moment means that we all need to try to fill the world with more lovingkindness, to give others grace, to offer a helping hand, and show a little bit more patience. These times call us to put Hillel’s Golden Rule into action: to treat others as each of us would like to be treated. May we all see God’s compassion reflected in each other and continue to find reasons to sing God’s praises.
Shabbat shalom.
