When we think of miracles, we naturally think about things happening that are extraordinary. For example, if we lift a book and then let go and the book stays where it is and does not fall, some will say that is a miracle. It is considered a miracle because the laws of physics tell us that gravity will bring the book down. Of course, we all understand gravity.

On Passover we look at the experience of the Israelites crossing of the Sea of Reeds as a miracle because the sea parted; the Israelites walked safely to the other side. And that wasn’t the only “miracle.” There were the ten plagues and the march across the desert toward an unknown destiny.

During that journey we were fed “manna,” some mystical nourishment that had whatever taste we wished. We weathered storms and upheaval that caused us, on more than one occasion, to ask: “Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that we were brought to die in the desert?”

Our first encounter with destiny finds us at the foot of a mountain awaiting the message that has survived time. It is an eternal message.

Passover is a time of miracles.  It is the miracle of change. To say the least – change does not come easy. Like our forefathers seeking to understand why they found themselves in the desert for so long, we resist change at every turn in our journey. We are creatures of habit and somehow, we feel that the past is to be romanticized and cherished and any change to that feeling makes us uncomfortable. The past reminds us of a period in our lives when we were younger and healthier and capable of so many things that we are not able to accomplish today. That is frightening.

Even during our greatest triumph, the Exodus from captivity, we constantly regretted having made the effort because of the insecurity of the unknown. Our rabbinic tradition refers to the desert wandering as “Dor Midbar,” the generation of the desert – the generation that witnessed marvel upon marvel and still regretted the decision to journey to a promise yet unfulfilled.

No matter what God does for us, we are not satisfied and we’re even resentful. We can relate to these feelings because we reject change-we see in ourselves the inability to adjust. We object to suggestions that will enhance our lives whether from friends, relatives, or God. God tells us that to grow we must be willing to experiment. And God does this with the miracle of everyday living.

The one thing we should try to remember is that, as we get older, change is necessary for continuation, not stagnation. If we stayed the same-well, there certainly would be no excitement or anticipation. Now, more than ever, we need to adjust our thinking to accommodate all the changes we can absorb, not run away from them as our ancestors tried to do. Don’t say: “Why can’t they, our children and grandchildren, be like us?” Do we really want that for them, or do we want them to grow and develop into what they can be for themselves?

There is also the miracle of action. The Midrash, the teachings of the rabbis in explaining the meaning of Torah, understood God’s message: when action is needed, we should not waste time praying. The People are at the edge of the Sea and their doom seems inevitable. What do they do? They start to pray for deliverance. The Midrash answers quite succinctly by stating that prayers are not the only way to salvation, but action, the action of putting your foot into the water, the action of faith. Faith in your own ability to overcome darkness and fear is a miracle that cannot be provided for us, only by us.

Moses, at the very same time, lifts his rod and stretches it over the water and the Sea does not divide immediately. It takes hours for the final step in the rescue to be accomplished because it was not the miracle of opening the Sea that was needed, but rather the ability to realize that with faith all things are possible: faith in oneself and faith that God will participate if we are willing to step forward.

Passover is a time of miracles. Passover reminds us that when we sing and hear “Let my people go,” it is a clarion call for all people and for all time. And the miracle of that issuance is that where there is breath, we will never forget the past because it is the secret of a miracle called the future