Refugees In Search of Shelter: B’shalach

Refugees In Search of Shelter:  B’shalach

D’var Torah for Parashat B’shalach (Ex. 13:17—17:16)

by Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

January 22, 2016

Shabbat Shirah

We are all refugees.  This country was founded by refugees seeking religious and political freedom.  Israel was founded by refugees, resulting in a war that in turn caused upwards of 1.5 million refugees—as many Jews left Arab countries to resettle in Israel as did Arabs who left their homes, in search of safety or—as they were told—to prepare for an eventual victorious return.

People don’t leave their homeland because they were happy there. Some leave because of curiosity.  What lies just beyond the horizon has intrigued us from the earliest days of our existence as a living species.  Some leave on a quest for answers to unfathomable mysteries. However, most leave their birthplace, their homeland and their family only when conditions there become untenable.  

From the earliest days of humanity, hunger and the primeval need to forage for food and sustainability resulted in mass migrations.  The hand of God was often seen in such events.  The Biblical story of the Tower of Babel is one attempt to explain this phenomenon, this spreading of humanity over the entire world.

Even Abraham’s journey to Canaan is precipitated by God’s call to go forth, to leave the old homeland, to head out for some mysterious place, as yet unnamed, which God would reveal to Abraham in due time.

For the early Rabbis, however, there is an additional reason why Abraham undertook this journey: In Ur, an ancient city-state of the Chaldeans, Abraham was persecuted for his religious beliefs.

Four hundred years later, the Jews of the Exodus left for similar reasons. Enslavement and attempted genocide mandated that they depart.  Inspired by Moses, Aaron and Miriam, the Hebrews left en masse, half a million men, women and children.  An important part of Egyptian economy, their departure left Egypt a shambles, its economy a ruin, an empire doomed to oblivion.

But at the same time, a new culture was born.  One could say that modern Western Civilization was actually born on the day that the sea parted to give birth to the Jewish People.

Miracles occur for a reason, but also for a purpose.  God’s hand, we know, is powerful. It is also slow to reveal itself; but once it does, with all its power and glory, it comes not only to save and redeem, but also to teach a lasting ethic and moral.

Abraham’s journey from his homeland to Canaan may have been triggered by persecution.  As he prepared for a hasty departure, he may have wondered why it was so, what was it about his belief in God that could and did elicit so much hatred. 

What he learned along the way, however, was a lesson far greater than he had anticipated.  He understood that from that moment on, from his first step out the door, there would be new purpose to his life.  To commit to this vision meant to embrace it along with all its possible consequences.

The existence of one God may have come to Abraham as a sudden revelation.  His understanding of God’s purpose, however, was more of an evolution.  With each subsequent step, Abraham came to understand that God was not only The Creator, but also the source and model of justice, mercy and compassion.

The departure of the Hebrew nation from Egypt was yet another part of this journey.  This time, however, it wasn’t only true for one individual, but rather for an entire people. And one more difference:  this time, the people knew where they were going—they only needed a guide to show them how to get there. 

This guide they were looking for was Moses.  This was Moses, a cultural misfit who saw himself estranged both from his birth people and from his adoptive culture. This was Moses, whose righteous passion was inflamed by the injustice and abuse that he saw around him; who, with each step that he took, understood that his life’s mission wasn’t over with the Exodus. Far from that.  Beyond the miracle of the parting of the Red Sea, beyond the great outburst of faith and gratitude to God that became known as the Song of Moses, in fact on this side of history, now stood before him an assembly of men, women and children who looked up to him as once, in his earlier and simpler, shepherding days, the sheep had looked up to him.  Where to now, O faithful shepherd? Show us the way, point us in the right direction.  Lead us there.  Bring us to shelter, food and water.  Take us home.

It was a tough task, Moses realized.  B’nai Israel—the Children of Israel, as they were known then--were a people steeped in superstition, too weary at the end of a long day to think about what God wanted of them.  This newborn people would have to explore for themselves and find new meaning and purpose for their life.  Until now they were slaves; they did as they were told.  Now, they would have to take charge of their lives and destiny.

For the next forty years, Moses would teach them about God’s intents and purposes. To walk in God’s ways, the people would learn, means more than offering sacrifice, more even than uttering prayers.  As Abraham understood at the very beginning of his journey, the belief in one God carries a purpose and a mandate for life with it.  It means that, like God, so too we must be fair and compassionate.  That we must free the captive and liberate the enslaved.  That we must hear and remember the plight of the homeless and give them shelter.

We are, after all—all of us—refugees. Whether we left on a quest for answers or in search of more fertile fields, whether we left because of persecution or were driven by some other anguish, we are all on a journey, all of us seeking a Promised Land.

Lucky for us, we already have a roadmap. We only have to study it, then join hands and step forward together.

© 2016 by Boaz D. Heilman