Beshalach: Wonder of Wonder, Miracle of Miracles
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=azd1W8gSiwI
Parshat Beshalach: Faith in the Midst of the Sea
When we talk about “believing in G-d,” we often imagine abstract theology—something debated in philosophy classes or whispered reverently in shul between Aliyahs. But Parshat Beshalach comes to say: no. We’re not talking about belief as an idea—we’re talking about reality. A G-d who is here, with us, even in the darkest of times. Especially in the darkest of times.
This is a parsha of faith under fire. It is full of trials and tests: war, hunger, thirst, fear, and overwhelming doubt. But what emerges is not just a theological proof—it is the awakening of the soul to something very real.
Speaking To G-d, Not About G-d
Before diving into the parsha, a word on tefillah: The formula of a bracha--Baruch Atah HaShem Elokeinu—should tip us off. We are not speaking about G-d. We’re speaking to G-d.
When we talk about someone, they might be in the next room, or the next galaxy. When we talk to someone, they’re right in front of us. There’s immediacy. Relationship. Vulnerability. That's the tone of this entire parsha. We are not studying the Divine. We are confronting it.
The Story Begins: Afraid of War… Armed for Battle
The opening is ironic, almost comically so. G-d takes the Israelites on the long route out of Egypt, lest they see war and return. The very next verse? They went up armed! They’re geared up like a traveling militia—but mentally, they’re still slaves. As one wag might put it: you can take the Jew out of Egypt, but it takes a whole lot longer to get Egypt out of the Jew.
Even stranger: instead of steering them clear of danger, G-d leads them straight into it. Into a trap between the Sea and a revived Egyptian army. Why? To teach them something deeper than escape: emunah.
They had seen miracles already—the plagues, the Exodus. But those miracles didn’t yet become personal. They didn’t yet believe in the sense of a visceral knowing.
Standing at the Sea: The Battle Before the BattleSo G-d tells them, “Don’t cry to Me—go forward!” And Rashi says: It’s on Me, this whole thing.
This wasn’t a time for prayer. Prayer would have diminished the miracle. This was G-d’s move. Not behind the scenes, not hinted at through natural events—but up front, in technicolor. And what followed was not just rescue. It was revelation.
Even the lowliest person--the shifcha al haYam—saw what even Yechezkel the prophet didn’t. Why? Because Yechezkel saw a vision. She saw reality. She experienced G-d, front and center. In a world of doubt and oppression, that is a revolution.
Faith Is Not a Feeling—It’s a Fight
What follows in the parsha are a series of tests. They get bitter water—and complain. They get hungry—and panic. They get thirsty—and ask the existential question: “Is G-d among us or not?”
And then Amalek shows up.
Amalek isn’t just a nation—it’s a spiritual force. Amalek is the voice that whispers, Coincidence. Chance. You’re alone. The name “Amalek” has the gematria of safek—doubt. The work of the monkey. Haman is their spiritual descendant, and the Torah traces his roots all the way back to “HaMin haEitz?”—“Did you eat from the tree?” It’s all one question: Is G-d real, or isn’t He?
When Amalek attacks, Moshe lifts his hands. But the Mishna in Rosh HaShanah asks: Did his hands win the war? Of course not. Rather, when the people made their hearts servants of HaShem, they triumphed. Vayehi yadav emunah—his hands were faith. Not clenched fists, but open palms. Surrendered to the Divine.
This wasn’t punishment—it was preparation. The only way to win this war was by living without hesitation, knowing that whatever is happening—it’s from G-d. Amalek couldn’t be defeated with swords alone. The real battleground was the heart.
The Journey from Anxiety to Intimacy
The Israelites feared war at the beginning of the parsha. But their fear wasn’t tactical—it was spiritual. It was the fear of being unworthy. Slavery had taught them to doubt their own value. And doubt G-d’s love.
But G-d’s message is: I am with you. I am trustworthy. I’m not out to get you.
Over and over, we see the people falter—and G-d responds not with wrath, but with instruction. If you listen to My voice… I am HaShem who heals you.
Like a parent to a child just learning to walk, G-d is patient. The prophet in the Haggadah calls us a young girl just developing. And so, our faith is also young—but G-d walks with us, step by step.
Manna, Water, and the Song
Even the Manna is a test of emunah. You only get what you need—nothing more. Except on Shabbos, of course. Because when you live with G-d, your needs are met. When you worry only about tomorrow, you lose the blessing of today.
And then there is the Song.
Az yashir Moshe u’vnei Yisrael—“I will sing…” It’s in the singular. Each individual. Each voice. But all singing in harmony. Miriam leads the women. Even the lowest maidservant sings. And what do they sing?
Zeh Keili v’anveihu—This is my G-d. Not just “the” G-d. My G-d. The One who showed up for me.
A Drash on the SeaThe Sea
On a deeper level, represents the subconscious. That vast, overwhelming, unseen place full of fear and trauma. Egypt—the inner oppressor—chases us into it. But with G-d, we walk through on dry land. With faith, we are not swallowed by the unknown. We transcend it.
The splitting of the Sea is not just an ancient miracle—it’s a spiritual map. A guide through anxiety, depression, fear. G-d doesn’t remove the sea. He makes a path through it. That’s the real miracle.
Respect Your Student Like Yourself
At the end of the parsha, we find Moshe telling Yehoshua to “choose people for us” to fight Amalek. The Midrash says: from here we learn, Respect your student like yourself. Because while we have great leaders like Moshe—true heroes of faith—each of us must still rise. We must have our own relationship with G-d. You can’t inherit emunah. You have to live it.
Final Thought: It’s G-d’s War
G-d fights Amalek. Not because G-d needs us to defend Him—but because He chose us to defend the truth of His presence. And the irony? When we let go and trust, we win against all odds. Because it’s not our war—it’s His.
Conclusion: Believing Means Seeing
Parshat Beshalach isn’t just a tale of escape. It’s a story of transformation. From fear of war to faith in battle. From slavery to song. From doubt to divine intimacy.
We began the parsha too scared to fight—and we end it with our hands raised in faith.
So what does it mean to “believe in G-d”? Not just to accept a concept. But to live with the awareness that G-d is here. That He sees us. Loves us. Fights for us. And waits for us—on the other side of the Sea.
When we talk about “believing in G-d,” we often imagine abstract theology—something debated in philosophy classes or whispered reverently in shul between Aliyahs. But Parshat Beshalach comes to say: no. We’re not talking about belief as an idea—we’re talking about reality. A G-d who is here, with us, even in the darkest of times. Especially in the darkest of times.
This is a parsha of faith under fire. It is full of trials and tests: war, hunger, thirst, fear, and overwhelming doubt. But what emerges is not just a theological proof—it is the awakening of the soul to something very real.
Speaking To G-d, Not About G-d
Before diving into the parsha, a word on tefillah: The formula of a bracha--Baruch Atah HaShem Elokeinu—should tip us off. We are not speaking about G-d. We’re speaking to G-d.
When we talk about someone, they might be in the next room, or the next galaxy. When we talk to someone, they’re right in front of us. There’s immediacy. Relationship. Vulnerability. That's the tone of this entire parsha. We are not studying the Divine. We are confronting it.
The Story Begins: Afraid of War… Armed for Battle
The opening is ironic, almost comically so. G-d takes the Israelites on the long route out of Egypt, lest they see war and return. The very next verse? They went up armed! They’re geared up like a traveling militia—but mentally, they’re still slaves. As one wag might put it: you can take the Jew out of Egypt, but it takes a whole lot longer to get Egypt out of the Jew.
Even stranger: instead of steering them clear of danger, G-d leads them straight into it. Into a trap between the Sea and a revived Egyptian army. Why? To teach them something deeper than escape: emunah.
They had seen miracles already—the plagues, the Exodus. But those miracles didn’t yet become personal. They didn’t yet believe in the sense of a visceral knowing.
Standing at the Sea: The Battle Before the BattleSo G-d tells them, “Don’t cry to Me—go forward!” And Rashi says: It’s on Me, this whole thing.
This wasn’t a time for prayer. Prayer would have diminished the miracle. This was G-d’s move. Not behind the scenes, not hinted at through natural events—but up front, in technicolor. And what followed was not just rescue. It was revelation.
Even the lowliest person--the shifcha al haYam—saw what even Yechezkel the prophet didn’t. Why? Because Yechezkel saw a vision. She saw reality. She experienced G-d, front and center. In a world of doubt and oppression, that is a revolution.
Faith Is Not a Feeling—It’s a Fight
What follows in the parsha are a series of tests. They get bitter water—and complain. They get hungry—and panic. They get thirsty—and ask the existential question: “Is G-d among us or not?”
And then Amalek shows up.
Amalek isn’t just a nation—it’s a spiritual force. Amalek is the voice that whispers, Coincidence. Chance. You’re alone. The name “Amalek” has the gematria of safek—doubt. The work of the monkey. Haman is their spiritual descendant, and the Torah traces his roots all the way back to “HaMin haEitz?”—“Did you eat from the tree?” It’s all one question: Is G-d real, or isn’t He?
When Amalek attacks, Moshe lifts his hands. But the Mishna in Rosh HaShanah asks: Did his hands win the war? Of course not. Rather, when the people made their hearts servants of HaShem, they triumphed. Vayehi yadav emunah—his hands were faith. Not clenched fists, but open palms. Surrendered to the Divine.
This wasn’t punishment—it was preparation. The only way to win this war was by living without hesitation, knowing that whatever is happening—it’s from G-d. Amalek couldn’t be defeated with swords alone. The real battleground was the heart.
The Journey from Anxiety to Intimacy
The Israelites feared war at the beginning of the parsha. But their fear wasn’t tactical—it was spiritual. It was the fear of being unworthy. Slavery had taught them to doubt their own value. And doubt G-d’s love.
But G-d’s message is: I am with you. I am trustworthy. I’m not out to get you.
Over and over, we see the people falter—and G-d responds not with wrath, but with instruction. If you listen to My voice… I am HaShem who heals you.
Like a parent to a child just learning to walk, G-d is patient. The prophet in the Haggadah calls us a young girl just developing. And so, our faith is also young—but G-d walks with us, step by step.
Manna, Water, and the Song
Even the Manna is a test of emunah. You only get what you need—nothing more. Except on Shabbos, of course. Because when you live with G-d, your needs are met. When you worry only about tomorrow, you lose the blessing of today.
And then there is the Song.
Az yashir Moshe u’vnei Yisrael—“I will sing…” It’s in the singular. Each individual. Each voice. But all singing in harmony. Miriam leads the women. Even the lowest maidservant sings. And what do they sing?
Zeh Keili v’anveihu—This is my G-d. Not just “the” G-d. My G-d. The One who showed up for me.
A Drash on the SeaThe Sea
On a deeper level, represents the subconscious. That vast, overwhelming, unseen place full of fear and trauma. Egypt—the inner oppressor—chases us into it. But with G-d, we walk through on dry land. With faith, we are not swallowed by the unknown. We transcend it.
The splitting of the Sea is not just an ancient miracle—it’s a spiritual map. A guide through anxiety, depression, fear. G-d doesn’t remove the sea. He makes a path through it. That’s the real miracle.
Respect Your Student Like Yourself
At the end of the parsha, we find Moshe telling Yehoshua to “choose people for us” to fight Amalek. The Midrash says: from here we learn, Respect your student like yourself. Because while we have great leaders like Moshe—true heroes of faith—each of us must still rise. We must have our own relationship with G-d. You can’t inherit emunah. You have to live it.
Final Thought: It’s G-d’s War
G-d fights Amalek. Not because G-d needs us to defend Him—but because He chose us to defend the truth of His presence. And the irony? When we let go and trust, we win against all odds. Because it’s not our war—it’s His.
Conclusion: Believing Means Seeing
Parshat Beshalach isn’t just a tale of escape. It’s a story of transformation. From fear of war to faith in battle. From slavery to song. From doubt to divine intimacy.
We began the parsha too scared to fight—and we end it with our hands raised in faith.
So what does it mean to “believe in G-d”? Not just to accept a concept. But to live with the awareness that G-d is here. That He sees us. Loves us. Fights for us. And waits for us—on the other side of the Sea.