“For as you see the Egyptians today, you will no longer see them”. Thus the story of the Jewish people and their struggle with the Egyptians comes to an absolute finale this week. Moses and the people have been sent out of Egypt by Pharaoh only to be followed to the Reed Sea. Even with the scene at the Sea of Reeds and the destruction of Pharaoh’s army, these miracles didn’t really make Moses’ life any easier. As the text often says, the Israelites are a “stiff-necked (stubborn) people”.
The miracle of the parting of the Reed Sea is one of the most magical moments in the entire Torah. In my eyes, other miracles, while majestic in their own right, are not half as awe-inspiring. This miracle isn’t just the water moving aside, it’s a culmination of several miracles. We have a people on the brink of destruction who were separated from their enemies by a pillar of fire. This same people was led on completely dry ground through a parted sea, which was then restored at the perfect moment to destroy a pursuing army. Check a Passover Haggadah, and you’ll see that our rabbis taught this story was so miraculous that not only was the sea parted, but God brought even more plagues and curses upon the Egyptians than what’s in the text. Afterwards, the Israelites were completely enamored with God, so much so that the entire nation celebrated with a song that even today, thousands of years later, we sing every day during our prayers.
What is the most miraculous part of this story? Is it the parting of the sea itself? The overwhelming awesome might of God perceived in the flurry of miracles performed all at once? Those are miracles, and they definitely serve even today to place a sense of awe in us, but these aren’t what inspire. The inspiring miracles are the transformations that occurred within the Israelite nation. The story began with the Israelites at the brink of destruction, facing utter annihilation. Just imagine the panic and sense of hopelessness that they must have felt at that moment! They cried out, and then something amazing happened: Their prayers were actually answered right before their eyes, the sea opened up and a path was made for them to escape the Egyptians. We may imagine that, right at that moment, the people began celebrating, joyfully crossing the dry pathway through the sea. Perhaps it’s my inexplicable fear of sea creatures, but when I try to imagine myself in their shoes I just shudder. They had to walk a long, dark path, unable to see the other side, with monstrous walls of water on both sides of them. It sounds horrifying. Only after they got to out to the other side and saw those walls collapse, destroying the Egyptian army in their wake, were they able to celebrate.
Why is it that God, with the ability to do any number of things to save them, chose to do so in this way? At Torah study this past week, our teacher Rabbi Miller gave an excellent d’var regarding the upcoming holiday, Tu B’shvat, and how winter may seem cold and gloomy, but it is actual a preparatory time for something great: spring. It was a great d’var, and I think those ideas can be applied to this week’s parsha— God chose this type of miracle in order to show us that even our darkest moments can lead to something beautiful. The Jewish people seemed to have little hope when they called out to God, then suddenly a path appeared. This wasn’t an easy path to enter— they had to have faith to both call out to God and to enter that dark path with no idea of where they would come out. When we sink to those low points in our lives we have two options. The first is to give up hope, to wait for the Egyptians—or those life forces that seem to be dragging us down—to come upon us and completely annihilate us. It sounds horrible, why would anyone choose to think like that? But in truth, it can be very tempting. When we see the forces of life trying to trample us, it’s hard to withstand them.
For many of us giving up isn’t acceptable, so instead we reach and call out to a force greater than ourselves. Those of us who do so, who pray, refusing to accept defeat, are provided with a path out of the darkness. The path isn’t necessarily going to be light and the end might not be in sight. Yet, as long as we are aware that we are on the path, and as long as we strive to make it through to the end, we will make it out of that darkness.
I believe that the real miracle isn’t even the coming out of the darkness, it’s the transformation the process causes. A redemptive experience can be transformative if we let it have the power. Before the Israelites went through the Reed Sea, they were like all other nations, really not that much different from the Egyptians. It was only just before crossing that God physically separated them with the clouds of fire and smoke, saying “as you see the Egyptians today, you will no longer see them.” While promises may have been made in the past, it wasn’t until this point, when the Israelites were put through the furnace, that they became a fully separate nation from the rest of the world and from their own past.
We, too, come out of our difficulties different than we were before, thus making the old relationships we had—with others as much as with ourselves—also different. Some of our old, unhealthy relationships may be washed away completely, and we may never see those people again. Some of the Israelites were unable to change, and these are the people who sinned in later chapters. The rest, after witnessing the miracle of their redemption, embraced faith and celebrated life and God with joy. Once we’ve experience that “rock-bottom” and risen out from it, we too have the ability to grasp hold of hope and, rather than sinking back into darkness, we can joyfully celebrate the world we live in as a miraculous and beautiful place.
David Gutbezahl is a recent graduate of Ramapo College in Jersey.
