By Rabbi Eric Yanoff
This week’s Torah portion is Beshallach – Exodus 13:17 – 17:16
When my synagogue’s sanctuary was renovated, we completed the building just under the wire, with finishing touches between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Just before Kol Nidre, we ceremonially “turned on” the ner tamid. I should have been prepared for the question:
Why would the ner tamid (the eternal light) have a switch? (In truth, it did not; it only had a dedicated circuit breaker.) Shouldn’t it just be…ON, all the time, eternally?
Or, more pithily: Does God have an ON/OFF switch?
It reminds me of a moment in this week’s Torah portion, in which Moses is standing at the edge of a cliff, overlooking the battle between the Israelites and the Amalekites, just after the miraculous crossing at the Sea. Whenever Moses holds up his hands, Israel prevails; but when his arms grow heavy and fall, Amalek prevails – so Aaron and Hur stand on either side of Moses to support his arms (Exodus 17:10-13). The midrash asks: Is it possible that Moses’ arms CAUSED Israel to win or lose in battle? Mishnah Rosh Hashanah (3:8) answers that it was not Moses’ arms; rather, whenever Israel looked up to the cliff and saw Moses’ arms, they were reminded of God’s care for them, their spirits were uplifted and the battle went their way.
God was there the entire time; the Israelites’ ability to win never flagged – but surrounded by a horrific battle, Israel too easily forgot about God’s presence. Immersed in a context, we miss the forest for the trees.
It’s like a classic joke: Two little fish are swimming off to school, across the big sea, and they encounter an older, bigger fish approaching them, who nods as he swims by, and says, “Good morning, boys! How’s the water today?” The fish smile and nod, and keep on swimming…until, at a distance, one little fish turns to the other little fish and says, “Nice guy – but tell me: What the heck is water?!”
That’s the whole joke. I’ll wait for you to recover from your laughter – long enough before I explain: The fish are so immersed in their environs that they don’t even recognize what is all around them.
Even more absurd, though, is the opposite possible response: Would it not be even more ridiculous for the fish to be constantly aware of their surroundings? Imagine us, as humans, gulping at molecules in the air like fish swallow food flakes, constantly appreciative of each molecule, incessantly grateful and purposeful at each gulp!
We could not live this way, always stopping ourselves, in awe of each oxygen molecule. And yet, Judaism asks us to strive toward such constant appreciation: We stop ourselves to say a blessing before food or drink, and when we encounter notable weather or people or circumstances. Not for each molecule that surrounds us – but yes, we pause to recognize the air or water, the blessings of our daily existence.
For much of our existence, we live, immersed in a context, perhaps in an echo chamber of how we receive news, how we sculpt our worldviews, taking for granted how we eat and breathe and process and survive and thrive. Yet such constant immersion is dangerous. There are times when we would do better for ourselves by looking up, with conscious awareness, mindfulness and purpose – to question our assumptions, to see the forest for the trees.
It is true: We often only recognize our constant, white-noise surroundings when something destabilizes that atmosphere. Agree or not, recent protests for a broad spectrum of causes have challenged our too-comfortable assumptions. Hateful statements and acts of violence and disruption intended to shake our sense of safety as Jews in America or as allies of our brothers and sisters in Israel have prompted many to advocate more proudly and firmly for our rights and our Jewish identities. I often wish we did not need such reminders – but when they come, we dare not miss them.
The Light is firmly “ON” – with no need for a switch. Like Moses’ raised arms, may we always be inspired to SEE the light, appreciate its power and thank God for its constancy, which we must never take for granted.
Rabbi Eric Yanoff lives in Bala Cynwyd with his wife and four children. He is the rabbi at Adath Israel in Merion Station.