Rabbi Simcha Zevit
Parshat B’Shalach
When asked about the miracles that take place in the Torah, most people will likely mention the splitting of the sea in this week’s parsha, B’Shalach, as the first miracle that comes to mind:
“Moses stretched out his hand over the sea, and YHVH moved the sea with a strong east wind all the night, and turned the sea to damp land and the water split. The Children of Israel came within the sea on dry land; and the water was a wall for them, on their right and on their left” (Numbers 14:21-22).
Water, which of course normally flows horizontally, stood upright. The text implies one of the traditional understandings of the nature of miracles — that the laws of nature are suspended through God’s intervention.
There are also ways of seeing these events, though, as the miraculous occurring within the natural order.
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks explored this possibility, saying, “Perhaps the Israelites arrived at the Reed Sea at a point at which it was shallow. Possibly there was a ridge in the sea bed, normally covered by water that becomes exposed when a fierce east wind blows.” Physicist Colin Humphreys, in his book “The Miracles of Exodus,” adds: “Wind tides are well known to oceanographers. A strong wind has produced water elevation differences of as much as sixteen feet.”
A whole different perspective is brought from the Slonimer rebbe. He offers a beautiful teaching that states that the miracle is not the actual splitting of the sea, but rather that our people could sustain a sense of the miraculous even once they passed through the sea, and nothing but dry ground lay ahead. It’s the hidden miracles in every day, and not only big, dramatic occurrences, that can awaken us to awe, wonder and hope in new possibilities.
The extraordinary in the ordinary? Especially in times like these, when there is so much suffering?
Perhaps it is times like now when we need this teaching the most — while being as present as our hearts can bear to the pain, the rage, the grief and the helplessness over the Israel-Hamas war and so many other issues.
We also need to find ways to seek hope and spiritual nourishment. Where do we seek and find the small hidden miracles? In moments of being present with and caring for each other, despite our vast differences. In the support of friends who reach out simply to say “I am thinking of you. How are you?”, and who then truly listen to the answer. In the inspiring ways that people are giving of their time and money to help victims in both Israel and Gaza. In seeing people who have not been to synagogue in years seeking community so that they are not alone. In the little boy who smiled at me as I walked down the street yesterday — and then threw a snowball at me. In every breath.
Smiles, patience, resilience, acts of courage, support and love, life itself: all miraculous. Rabbi Aryeh ben David, who has written incredibly moving posts about his experience of everyday life in Israel since Oct. 7, shares that focusing on these things offers him hope: “We have no idea how far the vibrations of even small acts of kindness can reverberate in the universe.”
We pray for the war to end, for the hostages to be released, for the killing of so many innocent people to stop immediately, for the end of the generations-long cycle of hatred and violence, for a miraculous peace to come and for so much more.
But we all know that prayer is not enough, and so each in our own way, many of us are taking a stand, taking action, giving tzedakah, struggling to find ways to be of service in this desperate situation. Even with our intense desire to make a difference, it often feels like there is no way forward and nowhere to turn, just as our people experienced standing at the shore with the sea before them and Pharaoh’s army quickly approaching from behind.
Actively looking for and experiencing hints of a “sense of the miraculous” that the Slonimer rebbe teaches about can prevent us from drowning in the turbulent waters, so that we can use whatever privilege and agency we have, that others do not, for the highest possible good.
Our parsha teaches us that even amid these heart-breaking times, we can look for, and manifest, what some might even think of as miracles. Not the kind that imply a reversal of the natural order of things through divine intervention but in bold action wherever possible and, in everyday, ordinary yet miraculous kinds of ways.
Rabbi Simcha Zevit serves the Narberth Havurah and is a community rabbi for life cycle events. She is also a mindfulness meditation teacher, and a leadership and life coach. The Board of Rabbis of Greater Philadelphia is proud to provide diverse perspectives on Torah commentary for the Jewish Exponent. The opinions expressed in this column are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the view of the Board of Rabbis
