This morning you heard the Song of the sea. It’s the song of Moses and the people
Israel. They sang it spontaneously when,
having crossed the split sea on dry land, they witnessed Pharaoh’s chariots and
charioteers drown when the waters returned to their place. These events are memorialised in the 15th
chapter of Exodus.
Last night I spoke
about the importance of singing out with joy when deliverance comes. And about how, if you can’t imagine what to
sing about, you’re being blind to the miracles that surround you. So you don’t need to cross the sea on dry
land, between two walls of water. Nor do
you need to witness the demise of your enemy as the waters return. Those are great miracles. But we experience less-great miracles all the
time. We often miss them, because we’re
looking for the great sort. So we sing,
and in singing we become aware of all the ‘small’ miracles for which we give
thanks.
But the Song of the
Sea flowed forth from the voices of the people Israel after a miracle of the
great sort. And what was necessary for
that miracle to happen? Well, Hashem had
to will it that the people Israel would experience deliverance. And Moses: he played a major part. Raising his staff so that waters would
obey. But the Midrash teaches us that an
additional element, not included in the Written Torah’s narrative, was
necessary. And that is…faith.
We Jews don’t talk
much about faith. Faith has a bad name
in our circles. When someone invokes
faith, we usually think it means belief that belies evidence. In other words, there are things that can be
proven…and things that one accepts on faith.
Now that is one meaning of the word ‘faith.’ But it isn’t the only one.
Our Torah tells
us: Abraham believed G-d, and it was
counted to him for ‘righteousness. (Genesis
15:6) Now let me ask you: what is the image in our minds of this man,
Abraham? Do we picture him as this mousy
little guy who sits around, waiting for miracles to happen? Do we think that Abraham’s faith is of the
sort that belies logic, that doesn’t expect some proof? I think not.
Abraham is the epitome of the proactive guy. He steps out in confidence, in faith, that
his actions will bring positive result.
He is not passively looking for signs from the heavens, needing that
kind of reassurance before he has the courage to act. That simply isn’t the man we picture. It’s not the one that emerges from the text.
But we’re not talking about the faith of
Abraham today. We’re talking about the
faith of Nachshon ben Aminadav. It was
the faith of Nachshon, according to the Midrash, that paved the way for the
splitting of the sea.
The people stood at
the shore of the sea, their backs to the waters, watching Pharaoh’s chariots
approach from afar. As you can imagine,
the dust cloud thrown up by those heavy chariots and their rigid wheels could be
seen from a great distance. The people were
afraid, and turned to Moses demanding to know why he had led them out of Egypt
only to die at the sea. Moses, obeying
Hashem, raised his staff. But nothing
visually happened. Until Nachshon said,
“The heck with this! I’m outa here!” (Okay,
maybe her didn’t say it exactly like that!) As he stepped into the
waters, they parted. One man had to have
faith. And the rest of the nation,
riding the one man’s merit, followed.
The point of the Midrash
is to remind us of the centrality of faith to the realisation of good
things. And to highlight the important
of the faith of the one lone person in the crowd.
Faith is not an easy
thing to have. It is much easier to be a
sceptic. In our day, it makes one feel
smart and cultured. To be religious is
not at all ‘cool.’ It shows one to be of
a lower stratum of intelligence, according to many. Then-Senator Barack Obama, vying for the
Democrat Party’s nomination to run for President of the United States,
expressed this disdain perfectly. In
April 2008, speaking to a ‘hip’ San Francisco crowd, he explained his lack of
support in some sectors of small-town America:
“…They get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy toward
people who aren’t like them…to explain their frustrations.” Oh, those poor, benighted people! Clinging to their religious faith, among
other things, because they couldn’t understand the complexity of their world. But in reality, Obama was expressing a
mindset that many urban hipsters share.
In truth, I’m not
sure it was ever easy to have faith.
Oh, in ages past it was easier to act religiously. But to allow faith to guide your thoughts and
actions; that was never an easy calling.
Human history shows us that we strive for either self-reliance, or to
rely upon charismatic individuals who are bound ultimately to disappoint. Men and women like Nachshon, willing to step
out with faith and confidence, are not common.
Thank G-d, then for
the second part of the faith equation:
that one person’s faith can infect others and shore up their
confidence. Fortunately, these
individuals while in the minority can be found in every age, in every
situation. But they can easily get
drowned out in the malaise surrounding them.
So here’s today’s
takeaway. When you encounter a person of
faith, cling to that person. Desire what
they have and seek to learn how they developed it and how they sustain it
within themselves. And let it infect you
and lead you to the confidence and certainty that comes from having true
faith. And who knows? Maybe you’ll be your generation’s
Nachshon. Maybe your faith at a
critical moment, will bring good result not just for yourself and those close
to you, but to masses of people. Shabbat
shalom.
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