Today we read about Jews fleeing to red sea, and the splitting of the sea. It splits one week after the exodus, a timeline we re-enact in the week between Passover and the 7th of Passover—on Passover we run off, on the 7th of Passover, the sea splits.
Some have suggested that this is a natural process. Rambam depicts it as a law built into the nature of water, based on the midrash that He made a stipulation with it when he made it. For Rambam, a miracle is an exceedingly rare natural; event, but it’s natural, and doesn’t involve God stepping in at the moment and changing the course of nature.
This theory has found favor with a lot of contemporary, scientifically minded individuals:
“Colin Humpreys, a professor, has investigated what is called tidewinds. This when the tide has the same direction as a strong wind. This will push the water even further into one direction which will cause dry spots in lakes or even seas. In lake michigan this had occured several times, that one side were large area's had turned dry and on the other side where the tide and wind were going,the water had risen for more then 5 meters. It is like having a glass of water and blowing on the water, which will cause a rise of the water on one side and a lowering of the water on the other. C.Humpreys has investigated this for years at the red sea and found out this tidewind phenomena still occurs every so often, where a part of the sea turns dry, while on both sides there is still water. So the splitting of the sea still occurs today. The miracle with Moses then was the exact timing they were there when this tidewind occured. So the splitting is no miracle, the timing is. When the wind stops, all the water will rush back with tremendous force, which is the flood that took Pharoah and his people”
Ex 14:21 supports this: “a strong wind blew all night”—this wouldn’t produce vertical walls of water, but a low tide exposing a sandbar. It was a natural event, caused by winds, maybe the moon too, a perfect storm. The Jews walked across a sandbar. Pharoah had the hubris to try to chase them in chariots, which turned out to be a bad idea. And Moses added a dramatic flair by hitting the sea with his staff, but it would have happened anyway, without the staff.
This interpretation is not without difficulty. Verses 22 & 29 say the Water was like walls on either side- so maybe the Torah took a little poetic license.
There is an island where something very similar happens regularly, and the locals developed a story around it not unlike the Exodus narrative. “In North Korea, Jindo Island becomes accessible via a sandbar twice a year, an event called the Moses miracle.
“Two times a year, during a low tide, a land path 2.8 kilometers long and 40 meters wide is revealed, uniting the islands of Jindo and Modo for a period of one hour. A festival is dedicated to this natural wonder and people from all around the world attend every year & cross over. “
Local legend explains it: “Jindo village was attacked by tigers and all the villagers ran to Modo island for shelter. All, except for a helpless old woman who was left behind, out of despair she prayed to the Sea God, who split the sea and helped her escape the bloodthirsty animals.” Sounds a lot like Moses and the Israelites fleeing from the Egyptians!
I don’t like this explanation
It basically gets rid of the whole notion of miracle. The midrash actually has a tradition of increasing, not decreasing, the sense of miracle. Pirke Avot says: 10 miracles at the sea, and 10 plagues struck the Egyptians at the sea. Avot DeRebbe Natan lists them as::
Tunnels were made in the sea
The sea was turned into a valley before them
Multiple paths were opened up in the sea (later: become 1 for each tribe)
The path was turned into clay
The path was dry as a desert or wilderness
The sea was broken into pieces
The sea was turned into rocks
The sea was turned into dry land
The sea was turned into walls
The sea stood up like flasks containing liquids, which released honey and oil into the mouths of children
And (11th miracle) some say that fresh water came out of the sea for them.
The Haggadah, too, increases the sense of the miraculous. Pirke Avot says there were ten plagues at the red Sea; The rabbis play a game of seeing who can inflate the number of plagues at the Red Sea:
Rabbi Yossi HaGalilie:
in Egypt the Egyptians suffered ten plagues
that is only referred to as the finger of G-d
at the Red Sea the hand of G-d is mentioned
=50 plagues at the Red Sea.
Rabbi Eliezer:
each plague was four fold
=two hundred plagues.
Rabbi Akiva:
each plague was five fold
=250 plagues.
It is a game: who can reach the highest number? Who can produce the movie with the biggest explosion, Bruce Willis jumping out of the highest window? By increasing the number of miracles, the rabbis were attempting to paint the most amazing scene they could, to increase the sense of the miraculous, to magnify the sense of divine Glory.
Miracles are important to us. Miracles are at the core of being Jewish. To believe in miracles means that we we believe that we can overcome what seem to be the obstacles of nature. To believe in miracles means things don’t need to be the way they are—they can change.
Whenever I teach some halacha that seems hard to follow, or something nobody wants to follow, there’s always someone who says, “but rabbi, that’s how everyone does it,” or, “that’s just unrealistic.” In the ethics class a few weeks ago, we were talking about the ethics of downsizing, and halachically you can’t lay off a well paid employee to save money by hiring someone young and cheap. You can’t just fire an employee to save money—it’s assur. And I got that response, “rabbi, that’s just how people do business.” With a little laugh and a twinkle, and I think the questioner was honestly amused by my naivete of believing that someone might actually practice business at the level of Jewish ethical standards.
To believe in miracles means to believe that things can be different. That the world can be different, can be fair, can be compassionate. That I can be different, that I can change my bad habits, that I can even do something which seems unnatural or unrealistic or against human nature.
There was a study a while back about how gossip is hardwired into us to facilitate social bonding. The implication was, that’s just how we are, so we should embrace it. But for me, it says the opposite-yes, we all have the yetzer, and we all have to fight it. And the fact that it’s hardwired makes the battle with our yetzer that much harder. Human nature is never an excuse.
Last Shabbes, Peter Madoff, Bernard Madoff’s brother who participated in bilking thousands of people out of billions of dollars, was allowed to delay prison to attend his granddaughter’s bat mitzvah, a lavish affair at the Central Synagogue which cost an estimated 75-100k. Even though Madoff forfeited all his assets, he still lives in a $3000/month pad. Peter Rubinstein, the rabbi at Central synagogue, wrote the judge asking for Madoff to be allowed to attend, saying:
"I suspect that the unfolding tragedy of Peter’s circumstances . . . were hatched early on in his dependence on his older brother as the closest father figure he had."
Quite an excuse for bilking thousands of people!
It reminds me of the song in West side Story, when the cops tell the street gangs to stop fighting, they all sing:
Dear kindly Sergeant Krupke,
You gotta understand,
It's just our bringin' up-ke
That gets us out of hand.
Our mothers all are junkies,
Our fathers all are drunks.
Golly Moses, natcherly we're punks!
Whatever we are given as out nature, from our DNA, our upbringing, our society, is given to us as a challenge to overcome. The Slonimer Rebbe says on lech lecha that when it says “go to yourself, from your land, your father’s house, your birthplace,” it means we find our purpose in life by looking at those circumstances. What are the bad character traits I have genetically, or learned from my house or frineds, that I need to overcome? That is my task in life. The fact that’s it’s my nature, that my mom’s to blame (you can always blame mom), isn’t an excuse, it’s my personal challenge.
The medievals put it in terms of divine nature and base or animal nature. When we talk about how it’s just human nature to gossip, or to profit at another’s loss, or to be less than totally honest in business, that’s true, it’s our animal nature. The divine aspect of us is the part that can question those patterns, that can make us realize we can be more.
To affirm that miracles exist, that God is above nature, implies that nature can be overcome, that my nature can be overcome, that “that’s the way things are” never means that’s how they have to always be.
Notice that the name God reveals to Moses at the burning bush is “Ehyeh”—I will be, I am always becoming. God is not static—God is pure becoming, God is self-transformation. To grow, to evolve, to be constantly redefining oneself, is to be in the image of the divine.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
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