Speak, and go forward — Kendell Pinkney

One of the great joys of teaching is that your students inevitably teach you. While I have done far less teaching over this past year given the realities of the pandemic and trying to finish rab school (1 year left!), I have had the privilege of working with one b’nai mitzvah student who regularly stirs up and challenges the way I see Torah. This is such a blessing. In preparing for this week’s 7th Day Pesach Torah portion (I note “7th day” because each day of the Pesach Festival has its own special Torah reading), Beshallach, my student regularly peppered me with questions:

If G-d hardened Pharaoh’s heart, how come Pharaoh and the Egyptians get punished? Isn’t that G-d’s fault?

Why does Pharaoh change his mind so much - saying the Israelites can go, then saying they can’t; letting them go, then chasing them?

If the Israelites just saw G-d do all of these miracles/plagues, why do they get so worried and scream out to G-d once they get to the sea?

All solid questions from a curious mind. But I want to focus on this final question a bit more as I think it speaks to some core challenges of what it means to be human. 

As we all recall from our seder experiences this past week (whether in person, virtual, or carried out in our hearts and minds), Hashem performed miracles on behalf of the Israelite people through the plagues that were brought upon the Egyptians. How curious it is, indeed, that just a few verses after encountering miracle after miracle and going out free, the Israelites find themselves trembling at the edge of the sea. As the text reads in Exodus 14.10-12:

וּפַרְעֹ֖ה הִקְרִ֑יב וַיִּשְׂאוּ֩ בְנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֨ל אֶת־עֵינֵיהֶ֜ם וְהִנֵּ֥ה מִצְרַ֣יִם ׀ נֹסֵ֣עַ אַחֲרֵיהֶ֗ם וַיִּֽירְאוּ֙ מְאֹ֔ד וַיִּצְעֲק֥וּ בְנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל אֶל־יְהוָֽה׃
וַיֹּאמְרוּ֮ אֶל־מֹשֶׁה֒ הַֽמִבְּלִ֤י אֵין־קְבָרִים֙ בְּמִצְרַ֔יִם לְקַחְתָּ֖נוּ לָמ֣וּת בַּמִּדְבָּ֑ר מַה־זֹּאת֙ עָשִׂ֣יתָ לָּ֔נוּ לְהוֹצִיאָ֖נוּ מִמִּצְרָֽיִם׃
הֲלֹא־זֶ֣ה הַדָּבָ֗ר אֲשֶׁר֩ דִּבַּ֨רְנוּ אֵלֶ֤יךָ בְמִצְרַ֙יִם֙ לֵאמֹ֔ר חֲדַ֥ל מִמֶּ֖נּוּ וְנַֽעַבְדָ֣ה אֶת־מִצְרָ֑יִם כִּ֣י ט֥וֹב לָ֙נוּ֙ עֲבֹ֣ד אֶת־מִצְרַ֔יִם מִמֻּתֵ֖נוּ בַּמִּדְבָּֽר׃

As Pharaoh drew near, the Israelites caught sight of the Egyptians advancing upon them. Greatly frightened, the Israelites cried out to the LORD.
And they said to Moses, “Was it for want of graves in Egypt that you brought us to die in the wilderness? What have you done to us, taking us out of Egypt?
Is this not the very thing we told you in Egypt, saying, ‘Let us be, and we will serve the Egyptians, for it is better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the wilderness’?”

The Israelites are stranded in a moment of deep fear and disbelief. Even the narrative quality of these few sentences communicates tremendous anxiety with the word “Egypt/Egyptians” appearing 6 times in 3 short verses. Through this flurry of  literary repetition, we get the felt sense that the Egyptians are flanking the Israelites from every side. The Israelites feel surrounded. They feel cornered. They feel as if there is no hope. And this is understandable, no? It is hard to move beyond anxious narratives when your people have been traumatized with the brutalities of enslavement for 400 years.

After the people cry out, Moses tells them to hold their peace, meanwhile G-d curiously proclaims: 

וַיֹּ֤אמֶר יְהוָה֙ אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֔ה מַה־תִּצְעַ֖ק אֵלָ֑י דַּבֵּ֥ר אֶל־בְּנֵי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל וְיִסָּֽעוּ׃

Then the LORD said to Moses, “Why do you cry out to Me? Tell the Israelites to go forward.”


First, what is interesting about this reply is that Hashem directs this to Moses. Wasn’t it the people who were crying out to G-d, and not Moses? This verse seems to hint that Moses was included among the people crying out to G-d. This in and of itself teaches a lovely little lesson: though Moses spoke directly to Hashem and is known as the greatest leader-prophet in the Jewish tradition, he was still able to identify with the pain and fear of his people and bring that before G-d.

Beyond this lesson though, I must ask, “What is it that causes Hashem to ask such a brusque question?” Many of the Israelites are experiencing Hashem’s power for the first time. Who’s to say that these miraculous events will keep happening one after the other? Who’s to say that Hashem will save them this time? If even Moses is scared, all the more so should we expect the people to be scared!

In the midrash Shemot Rabbah 21.2 we receive an interesting explanation attributed to the Palestinian amora (a rabbinic scholar who repeats, interprets and expands certain text traditions in early Jewish literature), Rabbi Levi:

אָמַר רַבִּי לֵוִי כְּשֵׁם שֶׁהַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא מְצַוֶּה לְמשֶׁה וּמְדַבֵּר עִמּוֹ, כָּךְ הָיָה משֶׁה מְצַוֶּה כִּבְיָכוֹל לִפְנֵי הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא

Rabbi Levi said: Just as the Divine one would command Moses and would speak with him, so too would Moses, as it were, command G-d.


While the explanation for exactly how Rabbi Levi comes to that interpretation is somewhat complicated and immensely clever (see the full text in the appendix for a closer look), the content of his follow up explanation is what really stands out. Rabbi Levi goes on to say that when Moses cried out to Hashem, the Holy One asked the rhetorical question because they were “confused.” From Hashem’s perspective, Moses wielded such power that all he had to do was speak, and Hashem would act. This explanation changes the context of the initial verse in powerful ways. In essence, the verse transforms from a curt rhetorical rebuke where G-d seems not to care about Moses and the Israelites’ fear, to a moment where the Divine One reminds Moses that he has all that he needs to help his people face this situation. 


As we approach the completion of our second Pesach season distanced and isolated to some degree, I can imagine that any number of us have felt completely overwhelmed and overextended beyond our borders. This is real and understandable. And yet, my prayer for all of us is that when we find ourselves crying out to the heavens in search of rescue from on high, we might recall the midrashic experience of our ancestor Moses, who in his crying out to G-d was told, “Why do you cry out to me?” You already got all you need to tackle this. “Speak and go forward!” May it be so with us, and chag sameach to all.

Kendell Pinkney is the Rabbinic Fellow at Ammud: The Jews of Color Torah Academy

Appendix - Shemot Rabbah 21.2
דָּבָר אַחֵר, מַה תִּצְעַק אֵלָי, הֲדָא הוּא דִּכְתִיב (איוב כב, כח): וְתִגְזַר אֹמֶר וְיָקָם לָךְ, אָמַר רַבִּי לֵוִי כְּשֵׁם שֶׁהַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא מְצַוֶּה לְמשֶׁה וּמְדַבֵּר עִמּוֹ, כָּךְ הָיָה משֶׁה מְצַוֶּה כִּבְיָכוֹל לִפְנֵי הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא, שֶׁכֵּן בְּנֵי יוֹסֵף אוֹמְרִים לוֹ (במדבר לו, ב): אֶת אֲדֹנִי צִוָּה ה', וַאדֹנִי צֻוָּה בַה', וּכְשֵׁם שֶׁהַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא קוֹרֵא לְמשֶׁה וּמְדַבֵּר עִמּוֹ, כָּךְ הָיָה משֶׁה קוֹרֵא לְהַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא וּמְדַבֵּר עִמּוֹ, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר: וַיְדַבֵּר ה' אֶל משֶׁה, וּכְתִיב (במדבר כז, טו טז): וַיְדַבֵּר משֶׁה אֶל ה' לֵאמֹר יִפְקֹד ה' אֱלֹהֵי הָרוּחֹת, רְאֵה כַּמָּה הָיָה שׁוֹלֵט, וּכְשֶׁרָאָה אֶת פַּרְעֹה רוֹדֵף אַחֲרֵי בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל בָּא לִצְעֹק, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר: וַיֹּאמֶר ה' אֶל משֶׁה מַה תִּצְעַק אֵלָי, אָמַר לוֹ לָמָּה אַתָּה מִצְטָעֵר, אָמַר רַבִּי יְהוֹשֻׁעַ, מָשָׁל לְאוֹהֲבוֹ שֶׁל מֶלֶךְ שֶׁהָיָה לוֹ עֵסֶק, הָלַךְ לִצְעֹק לִפְנֵי הַמֶּלֶךְ, אָמַר לוֹ הַמֶּלֶךְ מָה אַתָּה צוֹעֵק, גְּזֹר וַאֲנִי אֶעֱשֶׂה. כָּךְ אָמַר הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא לְמשֶׁה: מַה תִּצְעַק אֵלָי, דַּבֵּר, וַאֲנִי עוֹשֶׂה.

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