This past Shabbat we reviewed the parashah (Torah portion) featuring that ever-climactic moment in our sacred history: the crossing of the sea in culmination of our exodus from Egypt. And I say “our” very deliberately here. The crossing of the sea happened not only for our ancestors, but for us.
Perhaps the central words of our annual Passover seder articulate this:
בְּכָל־דּוֹר וָדוֹר חַיָּב אָדָם לִרְאוֹת אֶת־עַצְמוֹ כְּאִלּוּ הוּא יָצָא מִמִּצְרַיִם. “In each and every generation, a person is obligated to see themselves as though they personally left Egypt.”
Not only on Passover are we meant to re-live this moment, but each and every day of our lives: תִּזְכֹּר֔ אֶת־י֤וֹם צֵֽאתְךָ֙ מֵאֶ֣רֶץ מִצְרַ֔יִם כֹּ֖ל יְמֵ֥י חַיֶּֽיךָ׃ “You shall remember the day you left Egypt all the days of your life” (Deuteronomy 16:3).
What does it mean to remember the Exodus each day? How can we internalize this more profoundly? Remember that the word for “remember” in Hebrew tends to connote something more dynamic, something more three-dimensional than to simply “recall the events of.” It includes an element of empathy, of practically tasting the sea on our lips as we re-experience it.
Our Torah study participants (each Saturday at this Zoom link at 10:45 am; morning prayer shacharit service begins at 10) expounded on a range of symbolic meanings of the Exodus: the perpetual sense of hope it gives us that we can always reach a better place, the duty it places on us to help others who remain oppressed, the ongoing possibilities for rebirth just as the Israelites were reborn out of the wake of the sea.
We closed with an interpretation invoking that all-important midrash (homiletic teaching or expansion) in which our ancient sages taught that the sea did not split until a brave Israelite named Nahshon walked into the sea until it reached his neck before God split the sea upon this demonstration of courage and faith.
The sentiments of this teaching were echoed in the song the Israelites sung as they crossed the sea to freedom ozi ve’zimrat yah vayehi li lishuah (Exodus 15:2), which, as Rabbi Shefa Gold points out, can be translated, “My strength, ‘ozi,’ and the Song of God, ‘ve’zimrat yah,’ will be my salvation.”
Gold continues:
“Ozi is the force of will that I bring to this crossing—the place inside me that desires freedom and truth, and will do anything for its attainment. Ve-zimratYah is the part of me that knows how to surrender, that opens to the rhythm and melody of God’s Song and gives itself unconditionally to ‘what is.’ The blessing comes in the balance of will and surrender.
With too much will, I isolate myself from the flow of Divine Grace that moves the world. With too much surrender, I become passive and abdicate my responsibility for full partnership with God in the work of Liberation. Too much will or surrender, and I might have drowned in the sea. In the marriage of my strength of will and a surrender to the God-song, the sea of confusion splits open and the dry land appears beneath my feet.”
