It was only a day later that I truly understood the extent of the danger that we had faced. In the small hours of Sunday morning last week, even as our walls shook from the loud explosions and sirens sent us scampering downstairs to the building bomb shelter in Central Jerusalem, I headed down unalarmed and in good humour. It was only when I subsequently realised the size and quantity of the missiles and explosives, and heard senior military analysts comment on the implausibility of the 99% missile defence success rates, that I realised we had been on the receiving end of significant divine assistance.
It occurred to me that Shabbat HaGadol might represent an appropriate precedent for a national response to this kind of situation. According to our tradition, Shabbat HaGadol marks the day upon which the Israelites took lambs back to their houses in preparation for the Pesach offering – a courageous and dangerous course of action in view of the Egyptians having deified the sheep. While we are told that no Israelite was harmed by the Egyptians as a result, this does not necessarily imply an open miracle – however implausible this result might have been. Furthermore, Shabbat HaGadol represented only the start of the Exodus – Pharaoh and the Egyptian army still posed an enormous threat to the Israelites at this stage. Perhaps this is why it is marked on the Jewish calendar in such a low-key manner. Ultimately subsumed within the Pesach celebration of the complete Exodus from Egyptian servitude.
It can be questioned, however, whether the hidden nature of a miracle really diminishes its importance and effect.
A crucial chapter of Judaism Reclaimed examines this fascinating subject in the context of the Torah’s account of the Israelites’ miraculous desert existence. While R’ Yehudah HaLevi and Ramban regard the suspension of nature witnessed by the desert generation as a bedrock upon which the authenticity of the Torah is built, it nevertheless constituted a departure from the more subtle way in which God normally runs the world. This modus operandi is often explained by the proposition that the function of human free will would be severely undermined, if people were to be constantly surrounded by open and irrefutable evidence of God’s supremacy and will.
Within the worldview of Rambam there is a further, more profound reason for God to limit the occurrence of open miracles. Rambam asserts that a person’s ultimate purpose is to develop the intellect in order to comprehend God’s ways and wisdom to the best of his or her ability and thereby achieve Olam Haba. While dramatic miracles can generate feelings of awe and wonder, these impressions are limited to the senses and emotion and do not represent an intellectual comprehension of God and His ways. The highest level to which a person can aspire is avodah me’ahavah—serving God through love. Rambam teaches that this is to be achieved through quiet contemplation of God’s works—His Torah and Creation—in order to recognize the wisdom lying behind them.
For Rambam, every miraculous abrogation of the perceived Godly order actually challenges the very basis of “knowing God”—the first and most important commandment. Miracles by definition cannot be understood by people and are therefore useful only for providing temporary inspiration rather than genuine understanding of the Divine. This may be why God tells Eliyahu that He is not to be found in the great noise, wind, or fire, but rather in the “thin voice” of quiet contemplation and understanding.
With Pesach fast approaching, we greatly anticipate and longingly pray for the completion of our redemption and the swift return of all our people to their families.
Wishing all members of this group and our entire nation a Chag Kasher veSameach – an inspiring and peaceful Pesach.
