Hidden miracles and working within nature

Recent days have been a whirlwind of emotions and dramatic news cycles – punctuated with regular sprints to the nearest bomb shelter. While the heart-stopping screech from our phones and nerve-jangling wails of the sirens often occur at ungodly hours, there is no lack of indication of divine footprints accompanying this latest leg of Israel’s historic journey.

Surely the most conspicuous instance of this is what transpired at Beersheva’s Soroka hospital, at the end of last week. When news of a direct missile hit on the hospital filtered through our underground bunker we all feared the worst. There was nothing short of amazement when it was subsequently revealed that the imploded building had been evacuated by a concerned advisor just 11 hours earlier.

Reflecting on the way in which a mass-casualty-event was averted, it is striking how the apparent display of providence parallels the Maimonidean approach to the phenomenon. As Judaism Reclaimed explores in detail, Rambam understands that the primary avenue through which God intervenes in human affairs is by providing flashes of inspired knowledge and intuition to a person making critical decisions. Providing an example with a tragic association from his personal life, Rambam describes how God would not typically interfere with the rules of nature in order to prevent a boat from sinking in a storm at sea. Rather he would provide certain individuals with the foresight and instinct to navigate such worldly dangers and thereby avoid death and misfortune.

What is particularly important to note here, however, is that the apparent providence on display last week in Beersheva did not obviate the need for careful planning and security precautions – in fact it boosted and inspired the sensible decision making. The building had not been cleared under standard procedures implemented at the start of the war. But when Moshe Bar Siman Tov reviewed Soroka’s safety the afternoon before the strike, he ordered an evacuation which thoroughly surprised the hospital staff.

This theme of combining providence – perhaps miraculous – intervention with the laws of nature is one which occurred to me again during yesterday’s Torah reading. The episode of the spies, in which the nation despairs of its ability to conquer Canaan despite God’s promise, can be contrasted with how God dealt with them during their exit from Egypt:

“It came to pass when Pharaoh let the people go, that God did not lead them [by] way of the land of the Philistines for it was near, because God said, Lest the people reconsider when they see war and return to Egypt.”

As part of his analysis of the rationale for korbanot, Rambam identifies a fundamental principle contained within this verse. God, he explains, did not miraculously intervene in order to fortify the nation and ply them with superhuman courage in order to comply with His will that they journey in the most direct way to the Promised Land. Rather He worked within human nature, recognising the innate weaknesses of newly-released slaves and their inability to rise and challenge the mighty Philistines.

With the passage of time, however, God sought to toughen the nation up with their desert sojourn, providing in the meantime an array of signs and wonders to build their confidence in His willingness and ability to assist them. In the aftermath of the episode of the spies, therefore, God anticipates that they have internalised this message. In light of this, all the people “who perceived My glory, and the signs that I performed in Egypt and in the desert” are held responsible and punished for their lack of faith. For their inability to acknowledge God’s ability and willingness to operate – even within the laws of nature – to inspire His people to navigate and transcend the severe challenges with which they are confronted.

For comments and discussion of this post on Facebook, click here.

Song of the Sea and a point of no return

By Shmuli Phillips and Joshua Berman

In what is probably the most fascinating and significant section of Rabbi Dr Joshua Berman’s  recent Ani Ma’amin, a strong and consistent parallel is found between the Song of the Sea (Shirat HaYam) that we read yesterday and the Kadesh poem – an Egyptian celebration of Rameses great victory over the Hittite army. The commonality is seen both in terms of specific unusual phrases which are employed and also in the overall structure and pattern of the two commemorations.

Most notably, both passages open with an army being subject to a surprise attack and calling out for divine assistance. When this assistance is forthcoming, the aggressor recognises that its opponents are receiving supernatural assistance and attempts to flee, only to meet total annihilation in water. There are distinctive parallels in some of the metaphors and terminologies which are drawn upon: in no ancient text other than these two does “right hand” signal strength – nor do any other military accounts refer to defeated enemies as “chaff”. Both passages conclude with their peerless kings or gods leading troops back home and intimidating foreign lands in the process.

Berman makes a compelling case for the Song of the Sea having been directly influenced and inspired by the Kadesh poem. Based on archaeological findings from Egyptian temples of that period, he suggests that the Kadesh poem would have been well known throughout Egypt – an important and much publicised element of nationalistic pride and propaganda.

This close comparison can provoke feelings of discomfort in some traditional readers who approach every feature and phrase of the Torah as containing profound spiritual and mystical truth (a matter which we will seek to address in an upcoming post). Berman’s theory nevertheless provides a measure of support for the traditional account of the Exodus, which has often been challenged from academic quarters.

Most significantly, it demonstrates that those who composed the Song of the Sea possessed intimate and detailed knowledge of Egyptian culture from the Egyptian New Kingdom (approx. 1250 BCE) – the period of Egyptian history in which many consider that the Exodus would have occurred. Such awareness of close details of Egyptian belief is not limited to the Song of Sea, but can also be seen in the ironic mirroring of Egyptian religious concepts such as “mighty hand and outstretched arm”, “hardening of Pharaoh’s heart” and even prior details such as the ways in which the Torah describes the Jewish slavery, taskmasters and building materials. The parallels between the Song of the Sea and the Kadesh poem also represent a challenge to those such as David Rohl, who propose a far earlier date for the Exodus which precedes Rameses altogether.

An additional dimension to this early Israelite cultural appropriation may be psychological. The Torah makes it very clear that, after exiting Egypt, the newly-released slaves were vulnerable and had to be directed away from the shortest path to Canaan “lest the nation have a change of heart upon seeing war and return to Egypt”. Part of the project of the 40-year trek through the desert was to transform the weak and pagan-influenced Israelites, psychologically damaged by centuries of enslavement to the powerful Egyptians, into a warrior nation with belief in the God of Abraham. Whenever the nation faced hardship in the desert, the knee-jerk reaction was that they would be better off returning to enslavement. The Egyptians clearly had a strong psychological hold over them.

Part of the function of the Splitting of the Sea and its subsequent ironic celebration may therefore have been an attempt to shatter this psychological hold. By appropriating the Egyptians’ song of supremacy, the Israelites could embark upon their own national project, confident that “the way you look at the Egyptians today, you shall no longer perceive them for eternity”.

As explained by Rambam in his Guide, a major function of many biblical commandments, such as the sacrifices, which the nation was soon to receive, was to withdraw the people gradually from the pagan belief and practice of the culture in which they had been immersed in Egypt. The ironic appropriation of Egypt’s paen to its god-king may thus have been an exercise in breaking free from the psychological stranglehold of Egypt. This would now give the Israelites an opportunity to flourish as an independent nation and fulfil its role as a “kingdom of priests and a holy nation” – entering into a monotheistic covenant and marching confidently into Canaan to be a light unto the other nations of the world.

First posted to Facebook 16 January 2022, here.