Newsletter January 24, 2013 - 13 Shevat 5773
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Rushing Through The Sea
In Honor of Jason, Hofit, & Shira Emily Ducker on the birth of a boy
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Twenty years later, sitting with Debbie at the bottom of a towering ancient redwood in Muir Woods, I shared the feelings of the Lebanese shepherd, but still had no response.
In 1976, I was one of three friends on a whirlwind five-day cross-country drive from California to Maryland, planning to visit the Great Salt Desert, Arches, Grand Tetons, Yellowstone and Mt. Rushmore National Parks, and still reach Baltimore by Shabbat. The shepherd found us hiding from a ferocious wind at the base of the Delicate Arch in Moab, Utah. He, a successful engineer in Beirut, had seen the Arch on a visit to the US, and decided to spend a few years working as a shepherd so he could live in its shadow. "How long will you be here?" We laughed. Already two days behind schedule, we couldn't stay anywhere, no matter how magnificent, for very long. The man who paused his professional and family life to fully absorb a powerful experience, said to the three men rushing from one phenomenon to another, "You people are still rushing through the Red Sea!"
His comment poked out its head in 1996 when Debbie and I were surprised by people rushing through Muir Woods without absorbing the magnificence of the towering trees. "Just like the Splitting of the Sea," I whispered, and shared the Arches story with Debbie. We wondered whether any of the Children of Israel, running for their lives from the thundering Egyptian chariots, paused in middle of the miraculously split Sea to absorb the experience. "You didn't rush by the Delicate Arch if you're still thinking about it twenty years later! You're still there," was Debbie's thought, "and in the same way, we're still in the middle of the Sea." She placed her hand on the exposed insides of a fallen ancient tree and compared our experience to the thousands of years of history recorded in the tree's rings.
The Midrash reads many of the scenes in this week's portion as anti-pausing, or, as the Children of Israel rushing through their journey at a faster pace than our five day cross-country tour: "They traveled three days in the desert (Exodus 15:22)," means, insists the Ohr haAfeilah, "they travelled a distance of three days in a single day." Moses rushed them away from their great miracle and prophetic song to Marah, the place of bitter waters, so that God could, "Establish there for the nation a decree and an ordinance, and there He tested it (Verse 25)." Are we to understand that they had to rush to Marah so that they could receive rules and laws? The Mechilta even finds fault in them for not studying Torah during their journey! What did God want from them? They began the day convinced they would be killed, experienced the miracle of the Splitting of the Sea, witnessed the destruction of their former masters, sang a song of praise that we still sing each day, and then found piles of gold, silver and precious objects, and Moses still rushes them forward? Did they not need a break? ... a pause?
It certainly seems that the Sages never heard of PTSD or sensory overload. I see them as heroes, albeit emotionally damaged, for willingly moving forward without demanding at least a day to recover. The Lebanese shepherd is probably still shaking his head in disappointed wonder of people who never captured the art of the pause.
The waters of Marah, the place of their first pause, were bitter, teaches the Tanchumah, because the people were bitter. I would rephrase the Midrash as saying that the waters were overwhelming because the people were overwhelmed. "There He tested" the people to see whether they were able to transform their experiences into Torah, lessons that could apply to their future. God healed them of their trauma, softened the sensory overload, by focusing them on their future, by asking of them to take their experience at the Delicate Arch with them for almost forty years, recording the memories on their tree rings. The shepherd couldn't leave the Delicate Arch. I still carry it with me decades later, as we carry the tree rings of the Splitting of the Sea in our national memory. God used Marah to teach the people that all His decrees and ordinances would relate to their memories and experiences.
They certainly rushed through the Sea and from it to a place where they could digest their tumultuous days, and move forward toward Sinai with a clear sense that their experiences mattered, and would find expression in God's teachings. It was at Marah that we learned to find ourselves in the Torah.
Shabbat Shalom, Rabbi Simcha L. Weinberg President If you are interested in sponsoring our  winning Newsletter, please email info@thefoundationstone.org Go to our Blog  Follow us on Twitter   Become a Fan  |
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