Torah Thoughts
Parshat B’shelah Exodus 13:17 – 17:14
February 7, 2009 13 Shvat, 5769
When we look at history, we often look at it from our current, modern perspective. We think about it in our own terms, so we sometimes misunderstand why things happen the way they did. Our perspective has all kinds of anachronisms; we impose our values and beliefs on an earlier age, assuming that they should have lived by how we see things today.
It’s an interesting problem. When we look at Biblical narratives, we see them through our lenses. I did it a few weeks ago in a Torah Thought. I mentioned that Jacob, on his way home from exile in the Old Country, was worried about the reunion with his family. I said that you would be worried too, if you hadn’t sent an email or called your mother in 21 years, like Jacob had done. I was hoping to be funny with that line, and assumed everyone reading it would smile at the thought of Jacob calling his mother. I also made the assumption that the classic image of a Jewish mother applies to mothers in Biblical times. (A Yiddishe Mama in the Bible would make no sense, since Yiddish itself was not invented until the Middles Ages. Mothers have been around a lot longer.)
In this week’s Torah portion, B’shelah the people of Israel get to the Sea of Reeds, with the Egyptian army hot on their trail. They cross the Sea on dry land and the walls of the Sea come crashing down on the Egyptians, their horses, and chariots. The Israelites throw a big party for their miraculous rescue. Even though they have no idea of where they are headed, they know they have been rescued by miracle.
Whenever we talk about this miracle, or the 10th plague, death of the first-born, there are always feelings of compassion for the Egyptians. When we recite the Ten Plagues at a Passover seder, we remove a drop of wine from our glasses to diminish some of our celebration of the Exodus from Egypt, recognizing that other people suffered in the course of our miracles.
But my compassion for the Egyptians is limited. I’m sorry it took such strong measures to get Pharaoh to throw us out of Egypt. But even after the death of the first-born, Pharaoh goes with his troops to pursue the people he just threw out, only to find a watery death in the Sea of Reeds. It was his recalcitrance, his repeated changes of heart, which led to the ever-increasing devastation by means of the plagues.
Now here’s the problem: why should the people of Egypt suffer because their leader is stubborn? It’s not like they voted for him, or had any choice about living under his dominion. Why should all Egyptian families have to suffer for the deeds of their imperial ruler?
These things scream at our modern sensibility. We look at the plagues and say that Moses should have negotiated a peaceful end to the dispute with Pharaoh. We repudiate violence of any kind, and prefer peaceful negotiation over all else. We look at the disaster of the death of the first-born and we consider it to be contrary to the Geneva Convention. The Egyptians’ human rights were violated. And we look at the theology of a G!d who would do such atrocities. (Of course, by now we have forgotten the atrocities of Sodom and Gemorrah, and the allegorical generation of the flood.) But what kind of G!d is this that we worship, Who is so cruel to innocent people?
Bill Clinton would have looked at the last sentence and asked what the definition of is “is”. Is the Biblical G!d the same G!d as we worship today? Or is it possible that as humanity has changed, our perceptions and understandings of G!d have also changed? We see G!d as relating differently with us today – no one is expecting G!d to repeat the miraculous experiences of the Exodus from Egypt. This was a one-time event to be a reminder through all of history of the incredible power of G!d. Can we see G!d as having intervened in ways which are objectionable to our modern point of view and yet also recognize that they were necessary, and appropriate, for their times?
Biblical texts are of their own time and place. My guess is that in Biblical times negotiation of a dispute might happen, but it was more likely that war would settle disputes. After all, there are plenty of battles in the Bible. While negotiations happen, they usually are to create alliances with other people to battle a common enemy together. It also would seem likely that the person who attempted to negotiate instead of bearing arms would be perceived as a wimp, and could be easily dispatched. The strange part of the story of Pharaoh and Moses is not that they didn’t negotiate a peaceful resolution to the conflict, but rather that Pharaoh didn’t kill Moses and Aaron anywhere in the process, as would have been normal for him to have done.
In Biblical times, there was no democracy, and the suffering of the ruler’s people, in the name of that ruler, was common, even, some might say, “honorable”. It’s contrary to our sensitivities, but we weren’t around in Biblical times. We would never have survived with our current values in Biblical times! The G!d in the Biblical narrative is described in terms understood by the people of those times, and it is our job to understand that G!d differently. Just as we are not as barbaric as our ancestors, our concept of G!d doesn’t have to be as barbaric either. We are different; we can relate to different aspects of G!d.
May it be Your will Holy One of Blessing, that we find the paths to greater understanding. May we remember whence we came, and that our future is influenced by our past, but not a reflection of it. As we value our progress, may we be blessed with the ability to progress theologically a well.
Shabbat Shalom!
