Beshalach: G-d of the Exodus and G-d of the Shoah
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Share(כא) וַֽה' הֹלֵךְ֩ לִפְנֵיהֶ֨ם יוֹמָ֜ם בְּעַמּ֤וּד עָנָן֙ לַנְחֹתָ֣ם הַדֶּ֔רֶךְ וְלַ֛יְלָה בְּעַמּ֥וּד אֵ֖שׁ לְהָאִ֣יר לָהֶ֑ם לָלֶ֖כֶת יוֹמָ֥ם וָלָֽיְלָה׃
(21) ה' went before them in a pillar of cloud by day, to guide them along the way, and in a pillar of fire by night, to give them light, that they might travel day and night.
(ד) וְחִזַּקְתִּ֣י אֶת־לֵב־פַּרְעֹה֮ וְרָדַ֣ף אַחֲרֵיהֶם֒ וְאִכָּבְדָ֤ה בְּפַרְעֹה֙ וּבְכׇל־חֵיל֔וֹ וְיָדְע֥וּ מִצְרַ֖יִם כִּֽי־אֲנִ֣י ה' וַיַּֽעֲשׂוּ־כֵֽן׃
(4) Then I will stiffen Pharaoh’s heart and he will pursue them, that I may gain glory through Pharaoh and all his host; and the Egyptians shall know that I am ה'. And they did so.
(כז) וַיֵּט֩ מֹשֶׁ֨ה אֶת־יָד֜וֹ עַל־הַיָּ֗ם וַיָּ֨שׇׁב הַיָּ֜ם לִפְנ֥וֹת בֹּ֙קֶר֙ לְאֵ֣יתָנ֔וֹ וּמִצְרַ֖יִם נָסִ֣ים לִקְרָאת֑וֹ וַיְנַעֵ֧ר ה' אֶת־מִצְרַ֖יִם בְּת֥וֹךְ הַיָּֽם׃ (כח) וַיָּשֻׁ֣בוּ הַמַּ֗יִם וַיְכַסּ֤וּ אֶת־הָרֶ֙כֶב֙ וְאֶת־הַפָּ֣רָשִׁ֔ים לְכֹל֙ חֵ֣יל פַּרְעֹ֔ה הַבָּאִ֥ים אַחֲרֵיהֶ֖ם בַּיָּ֑ם לֹֽא־נִשְׁאַ֥ר בָּהֶ֖ם עַד־אֶחָֽד׃ (כט) וּבְנֵ֧י יִשְׂרָאֵ֛ל הָלְכ֥וּ בַיַּבָּשָׁ֖ה בְּת֣וֹךְ הַיָּ֑ם וְהַמַּ֤יִם לָהֶם֙ חֹמָ֔ה מִֽימִינָ֖ם וּמִשְּׂמֹאלָֽם׃ (ל) וַיּ֨וֹשַׁע ה' בַּיּ֥וֹם הַה֛וּא אֶת־יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל מִיַּ֣ד מִצְרָ֑יִם וַיַּ֤רְא יִשְׂרָאֵל֙ אֶת־מִצְרַ֔יִם מֵ֖ת עַל־שְׂפַ֥ת הַיָּֽם׃ (לא) וַיַּ֨רְא יִשְׂרָאֵ֜ל אֶת־הַיָּ֣ד הַגְּדֹלָ֗ה אֲשֶׁ֨ר עָשָׂ֤ה ה' בְּמִצְרַ֔יִם וַיִּֽירְא֥וּ הָעָ֖ם אֶת־ה' וַיַּֽאֲמִ֙ינוּ֙ בַּֽה' וּבְמֹשֶׁ֖ה עַבְדּֽוֹ׃ {פ}
(27) Moses held out his arm over the sea, and at daybreak the sea returned to its normal state, and the Egyptians fled at its approach. But ה' hurled the Egyptians into the sea. (28) The waters turned back and covered the chariots and the riders—Pharaoh’s entire army that followed them into the sea; not one of them remained. (29) But the Israelites had marched through the sea on dry ground, the waters forming a wall for them on their right and on their left. (30) Thus ה' delivered Israel that day from the Egyptians. Israel saw the Egyptians dead on the shore of the sea. (31) And when Israel saw the wondrous power which ה' had wielded against the Egyptians, the people feared ה'; they had faith in ה' and in God’s servant Moses.
Hilly Haber, "The God of Exodus, The God of Life," reformjudaism.org
As theologian James Cone writes, "In the Exodus-Sinai tradition ה׳ is disclosed as the God of history, whose revelation is identical with God's power to liberate the oppressed. There is no knowledge of ה׳ except through God's political activity on behalf of the weak and helpless of the land" (God of the Oppressed). There is a greater force at work in the world than the decree of any Pharaoh, the Book of Exodus tells us, and God's message is clear: Those who are born into slavery need not die in slavery.
This ethic of liberation and of life is woven into the fabric of our tradition and texts, appearing and reappearing as a source of theological and ethical knowledge born of lived experience and historical memory. It is, in the words of theologian Howard Thurman, "the word [of religion] to those who stand with their backs against the wall" (Jesus and the Disinherited). For those who find themselves on the underside of power, God offers a vision and hope for a life beyond Egypt, one in which all people can thrive, flourish, and die free.
As theologian James Cone writes, "In the Exodus-Sinai tradition ה׳ is disclosed as the God of history, whose revelation is identical with God's power to liberate the oppressed. There is no knowledge of ה׳ except through God's political activity on behalf of the weak and helpless of the land" (God of the Oppressed). There is a greater force at work in the world than the decree of any Pharaoh, the Book of Exodus tells us, and God's message is clear: Those who are born into slavery need not die in slavery.
This ethic of liberation and of life is woven into the fabric of our tradition and texts, appearing and reappearing as a source of theological and ethical knowledge born of lived experience and historical memory. It is, in the words of theologian Howard Thurman, "the word [of religion] to those who stand with their backs against the wall" (Jesus and the Disinherited). For those who find themselves on the underside of power, God offers a vision and hope for a life beyond Egypt, one in which all people can thrive, flourish, and die free.
David R. Blumenthal, Facing the Abusing God: A Theology of Protest (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1993), 263–64, 248.
In the inner reaches of Jewish religious reflection, the question is asked whether God can make a mistake, whether God can sin. The biblical evidence is that God can make a mistake: God changes God’s mind in the case of Noah and in the desert regarding the rebellious people. In the Rosh Ha-Shana liturgy, God prays that God’s mercy overcome God’s anger, implying, if not stating, . . . that God can be overwhelmed by factors in Godself. And in the Zoharic strain of Jewish mystical thinking, God’s inner stability can be destroyed, provoking great destruction. In a personalist theology, then, God can sin.
But how does God repent? How does God do teshuva?
. . . When God acts abusively, we are the victims, we are innocent. When God acts abusively, we are the hurt party and we are not responsible for God’s abuse. Our sins—and we are always sinful—are in no proportion whatsoever to the punishment meted out to us. . . . Abuse is unjustified, in God as well as in human beings.
But God is not always abusive. God is often loving and fair, even kind and merciful. . . . Our gratitude for God’s fairness, love, kindness, and mercy, how- ever, does not stop us from acknowledging God’s abusiveness.
To have faith in a post-Holocaust, abuse-sensitive world is, first, to know — to recognize and to admit — that God is an abusing God, but not always.
In the inner reaches of Jewish religious reflection, the question is asked whether God can make a mistake, whether God can sin. The biblical evidence is that God can make a mistake: God changes God’s mind in the case of Noah and in the desert regarding the rebellious people. In the Rosh Ha-Shana liturgy, God prays that God’s mercy overcome God’s anger, implying, if not stating, . . . that God can be overwhelmed by factors in Godself. And in the Zoharic strain of Jewish mystical thinking, God’s inner stability can be destroyed, provoking great destruction. In a personalist theology, then, God can sin.
But how does God repent? How does God do teshuva?
. . . When God acts abusively, we are the victims, we are innocent. When God acts abusively, we are the hurt party and we are not responsible for God’s abuse. Our sins—and we are always sinful—are in no proportion whatsoever to the punishment meted out to us. . . . Abuse is unjustified, in God as well as in human beings.
But God is not always abusive. God is often loving and fair, even kind and merciful. . . . Our gratitude for God’s fairness, love, kindness, and mercy, how- ever, does not stop us from acknowledging God’s abusiveness.
To have faith in a post-Holocaust, abuse-sensitive world is, first, to know — to recognize and to admit — that God is an abusing God, but not always.
Israel Shenker, "In Search of God at Auschwitz," nytimes.com
“In Judaism there are two archetypes of experience—one is the saving experience [the Red Sea], the other is the commanding experience [Sinai],” Professor Fackenheim also said. “If one tries to hear a redeeming voice at Auschwitz, there is only silence. But a commanding voice speaks to those willing to listen: A Jew is forbidden to give Hitler posthumous victory, and to consent to despair is to give that victory. The moral‐religious contradiction can be resolved only by affirmation that there can be no second Holocaust.”
“In Judaism there are two archetypes of experience—one is the saving experience [the Red Sea], the other is the commanding experience [Sinai],” Professor Fackenheim also said. “If one tries to hear a redeeming voice at Auschwitz, there is only silence. But a commanding voice speaks to those willing to listen: A Jew is forbidden to give Hitler posthumous victory, and to consent to despair is to give that victory. The moral‐religious contradiction can be resolved only by affirmation that there can be no second Holocaust.”
Israel Shenker, "In Search of God at Auschwitz," nytimes.com
Prof. Irving Greenberg, chairman of the Jewish Studies Department at City College, told the symposium: “The Holocaust poses the most radical counter‐testimony to both Judaism and Christianity, [raising] the question whether even those who believe after such an event dare talk about God who loves and cares without making a mockery of those who suffered.”
“After Auschwitz we have to speak of ‘moment faiths,’” he said, “moments when redeemer and vision of redemption are present, interspersed with times when the flames and smoke of the burning children blot out faith — though it flickers again.”
As did other speakers, Professor Greenberg suggested that the existence of the state of Israel testifies to the God who promised ultimate redemption. He noted that when Israel seemed in danger of its life, in 1967, Jean‐Paul Sartre, atheist, defender of the Third World, warned that Israel was in danger of genocide. Pope Paul VI remained silent. “Which is the man of God, which the atheist?” Professor Greenberg asked.
Prof. Irving Greenberg, chairman of the Jewish Studies Department at City College, told the symposium: “The Holocaust poses the most radical counter‐testimony to both Judaism and Christianity, [raising] the question whether even those who believe after such an event dare talk about God who loves and cares without making a mockery of those who suffered.”
“After Auschwitz we have to speak of ‘moment faiths,’” he said, “moments when redeemer and vision of redemption are present, interspersed with times when the flames and smoke of the burning children blot out faith — though it flickers again.”
As did other speakers, Professor Greenberg suggested that the existence of the state of Israel testifies to the God who promised ultimate redemption. He noted that when Israel seemed in danger of its life, in 1967, Jean‐Paul Sartre, atheist, defender of the Third World, warned that Israel was in danger of genocide. Pope Paul VI remained silent. “Which is the man of God, which the atheist?” Professor Greenberg asked.
Abraham Joshua Heschel, Man Is Not Alone: A Philosophy of Religion (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society of America, 1951), 76–78, 108–9, 128.
G-d cannot be distilled to a well-defined idea. All concepts fade when applied to His essence. To the pious man knowledge of G-d is not a thought within his grasp, but a form of thinking in which he tries to comprehend all reality. It is the untold secret of the soil in which all knowledge becomes a seed of sense, a secret by which we live and which we never truly understand; a soil from which the roots of all values derive perpetual vitality. Over and against the split between man and nature, self and thought, time and timelessness, the pious man is able to sense the interweaving of all, the holding together of what is a part, the love that hovers over acts of kindness, mountains, flowers, which shine in their splendor as if looked at by G-d.
How do we identify the divine?
Divine is a message that discloses unity where we see diversity, that discloses peace when we are involved in discord. G-d is He who holds our fitful lives together, who reveals to us that which is empirically diverse in color, in interest, in creeds — races, classes, nations — is one in His eyes and one in essence.
G-d means: No one is ever alone; the essence of the temporal is the eternal; the moment in an image of eternity in an infinite mosaic. G-d means: Together- ness of all beings in holy otherness.
G-d means: What is beyond our soul is beyond our spirit; what is at the source of our selves is at the goal of our ways. He is the heart of all, eager to receive and eager to give.
When G-d becomes our form of thinking we begin to sense all men in one man, the whole world in a grain of sand, eternity in a moment. To worldly ethics one human being is less than two human beings, to the religious mind if a man has caused a single soul to perish, it is though he had caused a whole world to perish, and if he has saved a single soul, it is as though he had saved a whole world
G-d cannot be distilled to a well-defined idea. All concepts fade when applied to His essence. To the pious man knowledge of G-d is not a thought within his grasp, but a form of thinking in which he tries to comprehend all reality. It is the untold secret of the soil in which all knowledge becomes a seed of sense, a secret by which we live and which we never truly understand; a soil from which the roots of all values derive perpetual vitality. Over and against the split between man and nature, self and thought, time and timelessness, the pious man is able to sense the interweaving of all, the holding together of what is a part, the love that hovers over acts of kindness, mountains, flowers, which shine in their splendor as if looked at by G-d.
How do we identify the divine?
Divine is a message that discloses unity where we see diversity, that discloses peace when we are involved in discord. G-d is He who holds our fitful lives together, who reveals to us that which is empirically diverse in color, in interest, in creeds — races, classes, nations — is one in His eyes and one in essence.
G-d means: No one is ever alone; the essence of the temporal is the eternal; the moment in an image of eternity in an infinite mosaic. G-d means: Together- ness of all beings in holy otherness.
G-d means: What is beyond our soul is beyond our spirit; what is at the source of our selves is at the goal of our ways. He is the heart of all, eager to receive and eager to give.
When G-d becomes our form of thinking we begin to sense all men in one man, the whole world in a grain of sand, eternity in a moment. To worldly ethics one human being is less than two human beings, to the religious mind if a man has caused a single soul to perish, it is though he had caused a whole world to perish, and if he has saved a single soul, it is as though he had saved a whole world
Billy Dresden, "Where was God then? Where is God now?," rac.org
During and after the Holocaust, the question has been asked, “Where was God?” Many have abandoned their faith because their answer to this question was either “God chose not to help” or “There is no God.” May I humbly suggest another response to this question? Where was God during the Holocaust? God was indeed there. God was right there in Albania, when those Albanian Muslims opened their doors and their borders to save the lives of ten times their Jewish population. And where is God now, during the crisis in Burma? God is right here, with you and me, when we open our hearts, when we open our wallets, and when we open our consciences, refusing to stand idly by while the Muslim Rohingya people of Myanmar are terrorized by an uncaring, brutal and, thus far, unaccountable government of Burma.
During and after the Holocaust, the question has been asked, “Where was God?” Many have abandoned their faith because their answer to this question was either “God chose not to help” or “There is no God.” May I humbly suggest another response to this question? Where was God during the Holocaust? God was indeed there. God was right there in Albania, when those Albanian Muslims opened their doors and their borders to save the lives of ten times their Jewish population. And where is God now, during the crisis in Burma? God is right here, with you and me, when we open our hearts, when we open our wallets, and when we open our consciences, refusing to stand idly by while the Muslim Rohingya people of Myanmar are terrorized by an uncaring, brutal and, thus far, unaccountable government of Burma.
