Holding Up Moses's Hands!
This week, as I re-read Parashat Beshalach, the post-exodus twists and turns have particularly aroused my sympathy for the Israelites! As this Torah portion begins, the people of Israel have already endured hundreds of years of enslavement, lived through ten plagues, and survived an especially harrowing final night in Egypt. Now, they experience one new roller coaster after another: they are trapped by the sea, and then jubilant when they cross to the other side; they grumble with hunger, and then find themselves overwhelmed by an abundance of quail and manna; they thirst for water, until Moses is instructed to strike a rock to bring forth water. Each and every moment seems to throw up a new challenge for the people, so it's no wonder they feel tired and weary.
It's in the wake of these many trials and tribulations that our already-exhausted ancestors encounter their first true enemy in the wilderness. As Exodus 17:8 explains: "Amalek* came and fought with Israel at Rephidim." (*In case you aren't already familiar with the concept of Amalek, there's a more detailed account in Deuteronomy 25:17-19, as well as lots of midrashim and commentaries about this group. In a nutshell, the Amalekites are known for being evil and cruel: for ambushing the stragglers as the Israelites leave Egypt -- the elderly, children, and those who are weak and infirm -- and for attacking without cause. In the rabbinic imagination, the concept of Amalek is extended throughout history, to those people in every generation who revel in hatred and cruelty.)
Here's how the battle between the Israelites and the Amalekites is described, in Exodus 17:9-11:
"Moses said to Joshua, 'Pick some men for us, and go out and do battle with Amalek. Tomorrow I will station myself on the top of the hill, with the rod of God in my hand.' Joshua did as Moses told him and fought with Amalek, while Moses, Aaron, and Hur went up to the top of the hill. Then, whenever Moses held up his hand, Israel prevailed; but whenever he let down his hand, Amalek prevailed."
The Talmud takes up this last verse, expressing skepticism that Moses's hands could, in fact, have been the key to the Israelites' victory over the Amalekites. As Rosh Hashanah 29a says:
"Did the hands of Moses make war (when he raised them) or break war (when he lowered them)? Rather, the verse comes to teach us that as long as the Jewish people turned their eyes upward and subjected their hearts to God in Heaven, they prevailed, but if not, they fell."
In the Talmud's reading, Moses's hands become important symbolic indicators, pointing towards the heavens, keeping the Israelites focused on the true purpose of their battle. In addition, Moses's upraised arm feels like an intentional echo of other famous biblical hands and arms: God's "zeroah netuyah" / "outstretched arm" that we read about in our Passover seders (Deuteronomy 26:8), the Israelites' "yad ramah"/ "arm raised high" as they cross through the split sea (Exodus 14:18), and Moses's arm and rod lifted over the sea in order to split it (Exodus 14:21). Together, the Talmud's explanation of the hands-pointing-upwards image, coupled with these inter-textual references, all add dimension and depth to the role Moses's hands play in this dramatic battle scene.
That said, the Torah knows well that Moses is only human. Like the rest of the Israelites -- and like all of us -- his stamina is not infinite. As the text of our parasha goes on to explain in Exodus 17:12-13:
"But Moses's hands grew heavy; so they took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it, while Aaron and Hur, one on each side, supported his hands; thus his hands remained steady until the sun set. And Joshua overwhelmed the people of Amalek with the sword."
It is this final image, from the final challenge of Parashat Beshalach, that feels most potent to me this week in particular. Even Moses -- God's chosen servant/leader -- cannot do it all! When his strength falters and his arms grow too heavy for him to hold them up any longer, Aaron and Hur gently move in to offer support. They bring him a rock to serve as his chair, and the two of them stand on each side of Moses, physically holding his hands aloft.
The Hebrew phrase translated above as "his hands remained steady" reads: "vayehi yadav emunah ad bo ha-shamesh." Commentator Abraham Ibn Ezra (from 11th century Spain) zeroes in the language of emunah, which means "steady" or "faithful," in two ways in his explication of this verse. He writes: 1) Emunah is a noun meaning something lasting and permanent. 2) Emunah comes from the word omen (to nurse, or to bring up) as in Esther 2:7 ("and he [Mordecai] brought up Hadassah"), indicating that Aaron and Hur were like nursemaids who lifted up Moses's hands. Both of Ibn Ezra's explanations resonate for me. I love the idea that a steady-state can be achieved only when we humans bolster one another's strength and lift each other up, and I also relate to the care-giving impulse that motivates us to lean in and support one another.
As our entire community is well aware, we are living through an extraordinary chapter in American history. Over the last few weeks, every single day has been filled with new challenges, twists and turns, and even battles for the people of this country and for its soul. The volume and pace of all of this feels overwhelming. In addition, for most of us, what's transpiring also feels far beyond our control.
Our parasha's final scene strikes me as precisely the Torah that we need this week! In the battles that are unfolding before our eyes, none of us have the power of a Moses figure to control the outcome, to completely stop what's happening through the positioning of our own hands. However, all of us can play the role of Aaron and Hur in some way, offering the kind of support that props up the hands of others and, in doing so, making a substantive difference.
There are a zillion possible examples of what this might look like, and I leave it to you to give some thought this week to what support role(s) you are best suited to play in this moment. How can you support and steady the hands of others? Where does your care-giving impulse lead you? How can you uphold your core values and maintain alignment?
I am keenly aware that within our own Kavana community, some people have come under attack more directly and feel more vulnerable than others. Here, I'm thinking specifically of those in our community who are trans, non-binary and queer; who are native Spanish speakers; who are federal employees; who work in global health or other fields that are being gutted. If there are ways that the Kavana staff and I can prop any of you up -- or support you in supporting one another -- please know that we are here for you!
On a personal level, I'll share that as a rabbi, I was particularly taken with the Episcopal Bishop, Mariann Edgar Budde, who drew ire a couple weeks ago after addressing the president directly and calling on him to "have mercy" on immigrants. This week, I took the time to drop a note of appreciation in the mail to her... a small gesture of support for her raised hand.
In Kavana's politically-engaged community of voters, I've been inspired by the many of you who have been meeting with elected officials regularly, making calls to legislative offices to ask that specific actions be taken, and making additional calls to express gratitude when our elected officials stick their necks out in protest or dissent. Lots of you have also been reaching out to family members and friends in other locations, encouraging them to make harder calls to elected officials who don't share the same set of core values. Let's keep that up!
The free press and the courts are both key to preserving freedom and democracy, and of course both have been under attack. Now is the time to subscribe to quality news publications and pay to get beyond the paywalls for the individual journalists whose research and voices you value. This is also a great time to donateto the organizations that are filing lawsuits you care about. These are examples of how even small acts of financial support can meaningfully bolster the hands of important power levers.
And finally, many of you are already volunteering in substantive ways or registering for trainings in preparation for stepping into new volunteer roles. Finding active ways to make a difference keeps our hands pointed upwards towards our highest collective values -- in support of immigrants and immigrant justice, reproductive rights, LGBTQ+ equality, environmental justice, combatting racism, human rights, and more. (And the more we do this work together, too, the more we can strengthen our own community ties and experience enjoyment along the way, while making a difference.)
Keep in mind that no one of us has to do it all -- after all, we are all merely human and we all have limited capacity (just like Moses!). Collectively, though, we have the power to keep each other's hands uplifted! As Amalek approaches, we Jews have the muscle memory to know how to circle around the most vulnerable members of our community, offering shields of protection. We know how to notice when someone else needs a chair or a support for their tired arm... and when we act on these observations, we can keep each other feeling supported and cared for. Together, we can remind ourselves who we are and what we believe in, aligning our values heaven-ward, even in the face of a broader society around us that's having a hard time remembering who we want to be.
Parashat Beshalach leads us through the sea, along our wilderness journey, and even into battle together. Along the way, may we each find tenderness and care, empowerment and strength, joy and song. Let's join forces and hold up Moses's hands, as we march onward together.
Shabbat shalom,
Rabbi Rachel Nussbaum
