Rabbi's Sermon
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
Rabbi Irwin Wiener, D.D