Parshat Beshalach – January 26, 2024 / 17 Shvat 5784
In the 1928 book “The Art of Flying” someone who is described as an “elderly woman” reflects on the experience of flying in an open cockpit military plane.She says,: “It was delightful. Now at last I know what Elijah felt like when he was drawn up to heaven in the chariot of fire.” Some fairly strong words about the emotional and perhaps spiritual experience of flight. Elijah, one of our prophets being lifted up in a holy chariot. This is surely something!
We find ourselves in the Torah are Parsha Beshallach (When God “sent out” the people Israel). During this biblical time there was no possibility for human flight, as far as we know…perhaps this was reserved for prophets, nevertheless most people did not experience flight. The late great musical theater composer Stephen Sondeheim has a simple quote that I would like to share with you tonight: “If I cannot fly, let me sing!.” Sondheim, known so well for his intricate and beautiful melodies clearly lived out the spirit of this statement. So many, myself included have felt elevated by singing songs that he penned. Many say that the songs in a musical theater production work not only because the audience has agreed to suspend its demand for reality for a few hours, but also because there is a need for singing. When words are just not sufficient to express the depth and breadth of emotion required, someone begins to sing. Singing comes from some of the deepest and most spiritual places within us.
We see this all play out in this week’s Torah portion. The people of Israel have just exited Egypt after about 400 years of bondage. These are a people who have been stifled, whose voices have been silenced for generations. The Pharaoh finally appears to agree to let the people exit the land, but quickly, his heart is hardened again, and he takes 600 hundred elite chariots and all of his soldiers in order to pursue the Israelites who have yet to even begin to taste the sweetness of freedom. Israel is trapped between Egypt and the Yam Suf, the Sea of Reeds, and God performs the famous miracle of the splitting of the Sea. The Israelites cross successfully while the Egyptians are covered by the sea. Later in this portion, we hear the Israelites complain, they do kvetch a bit for lack of water, for lack of food…they even begin to question if they should have left Egypt altogether. But in this moment directly after crossing the sea, there is no doubt in their minds about the power of God, about the relief experienced after the weight of hundreds of years of slavery is lifted. Words alone cannot do justice to the elevated feeling of spiritual flight that is being experienced by the people. “If I cannot fly, let me sing!” The Israelites break out into joyous song. Our Talmud makes it clear that the entire nation broke out into song…not only prophets, leaders, scholars…All people rose to a state of prophecy at this moment.
It should be no surprise perhaps that according to the mystical numerological system of Gematria, the Hebrew words for Prayer and Song, Tefillah and Shirah, have an identical numerical value (515). Song and prayer are often indistinguishable from one another. According to the great Medieval Scholar and Rabbi Maimonides, the angels themselves were singers, Rebbe Nachman of Bratslav speaks about musical prayer leaders, Chazzanut, saying: [The chazan] takes his song from the same place that the prophets derive their nourishment. It is clear that singing and songs are spiritual by nature.
Perhaps some of you are thinking, I am not a singer. I don’t have a pleasant voice. I do believe we all have the voice that God needs to hear from us, even if we sing within ourselves. Even if it is a kol d’mama daka (a still small voice). Remember, every soul sang on the other side of the sea.
May we all be blessed to take even one moment to aspire to a feeling of shirah, of song, and all that it does to nourish our souls. Yes, we come with hardships in our wake, and yes, we will likely still have our complaints about the bitterness of the water and the lack of manna. But one moment of song is a sweet savor to God. Henry David Thoreau put it quite well when he said, “When I hear music, I fear no danger. I am invulnerable. I see no foe. I am related to the earliest times, and to the latest.” Let us recall our beginnings and let this song-filled remembrance infuse hope for a brighter future!
Shabbat Shalom
– Rabbi Josh Gray