My sermon this week was not well received. I dared to say I struggle with parts of the Song at the Sea. Don’t get me wrong. I love some of it. I like the idea that this is Shabbat Shira, the Sabbath of Song because we sing the same song that the Israelites sang at the parting of the Red Sea and then we sing Deborah’s song as the Haftarah. I love how the sofrim always right this portion in a sefer Torah so it looks like the bricks the Israelites made as so the very last line has the people of Israel walking through the sea on dry land–just in the calligraphy! I love the fact that we are commanded to feed the birds on Shabbat Shira because they give us the gift of song. I love the fact that Miriam took a timbrel in her hand and all the women followed her and she sang (or chanted) the same song that the men sang. I love the idea that we learn from Mekhilta that even a lowly bondswoman had a direct experience of G-d while Isaiah and Ezekiel only had visions of G-d. I love the fact that Mi Chamocha says, “Zeh Eli, This is my G-d.” together as one, that all of us need to see how G-d is our own personal redeemer. I love the fact that while most of our prayers are recited in the plural, this one is in the singular.
I understand that the Israelites experienced a very important and powerful miracle and that they were inspired by this awesome sight. They were rescued. Saved. Redeemed. Delivered. Words fail to express the fear, the joy, the freedom, the responsibility. Yet that is exactly what the Song of the Sea is. Trying to express that ineffable.
So I told the story of Nachson ben Aminidav, which was new material for most. Nachson who put his toe into the water and then, only then, did the waters of the Sea of Reeds part. Nachson who waded into the water up to his nostrils, who exhibited such courage. Mechilta, Beshalach 5; Pirkei d’Rabbi Eliezer 42; Exodus Rabbah 13; and others. Do I have that courage. Could I ever?
And I told the story of Reuven and Shimon, that Rabbi Larry Kushner tells in his Book of Miracles. They never looked up. They were whining. They only saw the mud. They missed the miracle. How could they miss the miracle? Would we? Would we be just looking at our cell phones and miss what is going on around us? What miracles do we miss?
But that is not my problem. My problem is with the words themselves. If I were rescued, redeemed, freed, I don’t know that I would be singing that G-d is “a man of war; the LORD is His name.” I am such a peacenik that I don’t want G-d to throw the horses and riders into the sea. I have bought into the idea that we teach at the Passover seder as we take a drop of wine out of our goblets as we recite the plagues, that while the angels were rejoicing, G-d mourned what had to happen. And so our joy is diminished as well. I don’t want to believe in a G-d which leads others to use these verses as justification for war, as G-d is on my side. And then Miriam–my hero, for whom I am named sings: “Sing to the LORD, for He is highly exalted: the horse and his rider He has thrown into the sea.” Exactly the same words as Moses. Where is the feminine imagery of G-d. Really, G-d is a warrior?
But this is why we do Torah discussions, not just lectures as sermons. My congregation taught me. G-d is both. There are plenty examples–maybe too many for me–of G-d as the vengeful, zealous, angry G-d. Destroying the world and saving Noah, Sodom and Gemorrah, the first born of Egypt, after the Golden Calf, the Cannainites, the Hittites, the Amalekites. Examples can be found in Exodus 23:27, Deuteronomy 7, Joshua 8. Over and over again, G-d is seen as the warrior and destroys the people who stand in the Israelites way–or even the Israelites if they rebel. In this case, G-d is still proving himself. The text says, “Mi Chamocha ba’elim Adonai, Who is like You, among all the gods that are worshipped?” Later, the answer is clear, “Ain Kamocha, No one is like You.” However, when the Israelites were standing at the shore of the sea, they were amazed, they were awed, they were empowered. It was a WOW moment. This G-d, whom the Israelites didn’t know very well yet, is stronger than Pharaoh, who was seen by the Egyptians as a god.
I don’t get the opportunity to pick and choose what is in the Bible, in the Torah. My congregation told me this emphatically. This G-d warrior is there. A necessary component. As one congregant said, “Deal with it.” And so I am. I need the G-d of love that we see in the 13 Attributes, my Bat Mitzvah portion. And the ‘The LORD, the LORD, God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering and patient, abundant in lovingkindness, goodness and truth; keeping mercy to the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin.” But from time to time, I need the other parts of G-d. I need Tzur Yisrael, the Rock of Israel, I need Magain Avraham, the Shield of Abraham. I need Atah Gibor, the strong one who picks up the falling, heals the sick, frees the captive and keeps faith with those who sleep in the dust.
What saves the Song of the Sea for me, is the verse, Ozi v’zimrat Yah, vayhi l’yishua. G-d is my strength and my song. G-d will be my salvation.” It is with G-d that I have strength to do the things that I do. Only with G-d. It is G-d who protected me in the wilderness. No one else came to my aid. Not with Pharaoh or the modern day Pharaohs in our lives. We are told in Psalm 146, “Put not your trust in princes, nor in the son of man, in whom there is no help.” and in Psalm 33, “No king is saves by the power of his arms, no warrior by reason of his strength. The war-horse will not help you, for all its strength it cannot save. Therefore we trust in the Lord. G-d is our Help and our Shield…Let Your steadfast love (chesed) rest upon us, as we put our trust in You.”
Ozi v’zimrat Yah. G-d is my strength and my song. I will keep singing of this G-d. On this Shabbat Shira, I echo these words from the morning service, with Anita Diamant’s excellent lyrics:
If my mouth was filled with song
Like the ocean tide is strong
If my tongue could but give praise
Like the roaring of the waves
Chorus:
It would never, ever be enough
There could never, ever be enough
We will never ever say enough
To thank you, amen.
Verse 2:
If my ears were tuned to hear
The Heavenly music of the spheres
If my heart could rise and reach
Like the crashing on the beach (Chorus)
Bridge:
So let us praise and let us shout
Breathing in and singing out
Hear the joyful noise of voices
Joined in song
For the gifts that came before us
And for all those yet to come
We thank you,
Amen.
May we continue to be amazed and awed by the big miracles, like the parting of the Sea and the little ones day by day by day, so that we are not like Reuven and Shimon. May we continue to jump in and show courage and strength and faith like Nachson. Now G-d can be both my strength, my song, my warrior and the One who provides unending love and patience. Zeh Eli. This is my G-d. Thank you Congregation Kneseth Israel for reminding me, for teaching me how.