Beshalach: From Ordinary to Extraordinary

Hello everyone!

I'm sending you this weekly message in memory of Yehuda ben Moshe, a dear uncle who, despite facing numerous challenges and having no children, lived a life of unwavering happiness and profound care for others. His spirit remains a lasting inspiration to me.

I've titled this message "Growing from Extraordinary to Ordinary." While we often strive to move from ordinary to extraordinary, today we're focusing on the profound impact – the consequence of miracles – on our daily lives.

We begin with Parashat Beshalach and the Splitting of the Red Sea (Kriyat Yam Suph). This wasn't just an incredible miracle for the Jewish people; the Midrash describes it as a global event where all waters across rivers, lakes, and oceans split. The purpose? Not merely to showcase Hashem's greatness, but fundamentally to strengthen us in our daily lives. This profound connection links Shabbat Shira (the Shabbat commemorating this extraordinary historical miracle) with the simultaneous renewal of nature in Eretz Yisrael, as trees begin to blossom. This natural blossoming is also a tremendous miracle, but one we witness and integrate into our ordinary reality year after year.

The Song of the Sea: From Despair to Deepest Joy

Imagine Am Yisrael at the Red Sea, trapped between the water, the pursuing Egyptians, and the vast desert. The Midrash paints a vivid picture: like a pigeon escaping an eagle, only to face a poisonous snake. Lost and without options, what did they do?

As the verse states, "Hashem, I have heard your voice." In their moment of extreme danger, Hashem tells them:

• "Just pray."

• "Call out to Me, daven."

• "Then sing Shira."

• "Thank Me. Just let Me hear the beauty of your voice."

What does this Shira (song) teach us? The Midrash highlights its feminine form, "Az Yashir Moshe" (Moshe then sang), unlike the masculine Shir. Why? Just like a woman enduring the intense pangs of childbirth, where the pain is forgotten in the boundless joy of seeing her beautiful baby, Am Yisrael underwent bitter slavery and exile. But once liberated from Egypt and witnessing Hashem's great miracle, they erupted in Shira—a tremendous song of joy and gratitude. As Shir HaMa'alot says, "Then our mouths were filled with laughter." Great miracles fill us with immense joy and gratitude.

But "Az Yashir" is not only a term for tremendous joy; it also signifies our deep emunah (faith) in Hashem. Recall Moshe Rabbeinu's earlier cry to Hashem in Parashat Shemot, questioning why things worsened after his intervention. Yet, after the Egyptians drowned, Moshe witnessed the tremendous miracles and declared, "Hashem, I did question Your ways. I sinned by saying 'why?' I now understand this was all preparation for the miracles of the redemption." His song then expressed their profound faith: "And they believed in Hashem and in Moshe His servant."

This was more than just emunah; it was bitachon (trust). Nachshon ben Aminadav exemplified this by jumping into the Red Sea, unafraid of drowning, trusting Hashem to save him. This is bitachon: not just faith, but acting with certainty that Hashem will take care of you. Crucially, this Shira was not an individual act by Moshe alone, but a collective expression of gratitude, joy, and faith from the entire nation.

Transforming the Moment into Meaning

How should this Shira impact us? When they witnessed the miracle and sang, the Midrash astonishingly relates that even a simple cleaning lady at the Red Sea experienced prophetic revelations greater than those of our greatest prophets. There was a moment of profound spiritual awakening, transforming even ordinary people.

However, and this is crucial: this awakening was often fleeting. Did the servant's status change? No. She witnessed the miracle but perhaps didn't fully grasp its potential to transform her life, to give it new meaning and direction.

But what about Moshe Rabbeinu? Rashi offers a beautiful insight, which my father, zt"l, always emphasized. The phrase "Az Yashir Moshe" uses the future tense: "he was going to sing." Rashi explains that Moshe possessed a powerful desire to express his enthusiasm and gratitude through Shira. He found the perfect words, thanked Hashem, and carried the entire nation with him. This reflects the verse in Eishet Chayil, "She opens her mouth with wisdom," alluding to Moshe's ability to articulate deep emotions into words that profoundly influenced his entire being.

What does "Alah Boli Bulah Shir" mean? We often feel tremendous, deep emotions, but we struggle to express them, postponing it: "I'll speak about it later, I'll think about it later, I'll do something about it later." Moshe Rabbeinu, however, immediately channeled his deepest feelings into words, ensuring his mind and thoughts were transformed.

This transformation is captured in his words, "Zeh Keli v'Anvehu"—"This is my G-d, and I will beautify Him." After witnessing such a clear revelation of Hashem's greatness ("Zeh"), we are compelled to elevate our service, to beautify every mitzvah we perform. As our Sages say, this is Hiddur Mitzvah—beautifying the mitzvah. It means bringing beauty and intention to everything:

• Beautifying our homes for Shabbat, not just setting a table, but doing it with an aspect of beauty.

• The way we prepare for Shabbat.

• How we dress.

• How we act for others.

"V'Anvehu" means doing it in the best way possible, without later regretting, "I could have done more, I could have done it better."

Miriam's Song: The Unseen Support

There was this Shira sung by the entire nation. Then, something interesting happens. After they emerge from the Yam Suph, saved and gathering all the gold and silver salvaged from the drowned Egyptians, a new song emerged. We see Miriam HaNaviah take the women, and it says not "she sang," but "Vata'an"—"and she answered." She says, "We also have our special song!" While the men sang of Hashem's triumph over horses and riders, Miriam's separate song carried a deeper message.

A well-known Midrash suggests the waters questioned splitting for the women, who lacked the mitzvot of Torah study or tefillin. But Miriam's message was profound: the miracle was born from immense mesirut nefesh (self-sacrifice), emunah, and trust. While Nachshon ben Aminadav's courageous leap into the water was pivotal, Miriam added: "You know who truly has a great merit here? The women."

• The women never lost their faith in Egypt.

• They were the ones who strengthened their families with emunah.

• They encouraged their husbands to continue having children, knowing Hashem would redeem them.

Miriam proclaimed, "Now we are seeing the fruits of all our mesirut nefesh." Miriam's insight highlights the crucial role of unseen support. Just as a horse is essential for a rider's movement, the women provided the vital "transportation" for their families' endurance and faith. This Shira acts as a spark—something extraordinary—that must ignite a deep, continuous fire within us, transforming the extraordinary moment into an ordinary, everyday commitment.

The Daily Miracles: Trusting Hashem in the Desert

As Parashat Beshalach continues, the Israelites face new challenges, encountering bitter water. How often in daily life do we face bitter moments? The Torah tells us, "Shem Sam Lo Chok u'Mishpat"—Hashem gave them laws. This includes the mitzvah of Parah Adumah (the Red Heifer) and other Mishpatim. The connection?

Once the miracle was over, and they were plunged back into the daily struggles of the desert, Hashem says, "Remember, life includes chok—things you won't understand. There will be challenges, but you must carry on." Even if the waters are bitter, they were sweetened through a bitter olive branch. Why did bitter sweeten bitter? It’s a profound lesson in emunah:

• Just as you've seen miracles, trust Me.

• Even when things are difficult, from the bitter will always come something sweet.

Then comes the story of the Manna. Our Sages tell us that finding a shidduch (marriage match) is as difficult as the Splitting of the Red Sea. We must believe that our shidduchim are equally miraculous. It's not hard for Hashem; it requires our bitachon and emunah—to trust and pray.

Similarly, our daily parnassah (sustenance), symbolized by the Manna, is also an extraordinary miracle. We simply fail to recognize it because we are so accustomed to it. Just as Hashem called for their voice at the Red Sea, He calls for our prayers for our daily sustenance. Even when food runs out at night, daven to Hashem, and manna will appear in the morning.

Finally, the story of Amalek. Amalek's goal is to weaken our emunah. When the Israelites lacked water, they began to question, "Is Hashem among us? Is Hashem really caring for us?" This is the yetzer hara's (evil inclination) tactic: to sow doubt. That's why, in battle against Amalek, victory depended on Moshe Rabbeinu's raised hands on the mountain, for "his hands were a source of emunah." They knew only tefillah (prayer) brings salvation.

Tu B'Shvat: Rebirth and Deep Roots

This brings us to the topic of Tu B'Shvat, which is all about nature. After the dormancy of winter in Eretz Yisrael, when everything seemed dead—plants, trees, flowers—we witness their incredible blossoming. Deep roots hidden underground prepare this rebirth.

Perek Shira, particularly its third Perek on the world of plants, offers profound lessons. Tu B'Shvat teaches us that even when everything seems lifeless, Hashem is preparing the rebirth—what we call "Matzmiach Yeshuah" (constantly preparing our redemption). We may not see it, like the unseen roots in winter. Rav Dessler compares the rebirth of a tree to Techiyat HaMeitim (resurrection of the dead): a grain rots in the earth, then miraculously sprouts into abundant fruit.

Consider these examples from Perek Shira that offer strong lessons of emunah:

• The Wheat Stalks: They proclaim, "Mi Ma'amakim Karaticha Hashem"—"From the depths, I call out to You, Hashem." The wheat, planted deep and rotting, calls out to Hashem, knowing He cares, and sprouts forth.

• The Figs: "He who cares for the figs will eventually eat their fruit." Fig trees ripen their fruit gradually. It requires patience, care, and trust in Hashem. Things may not go your way immediately, but eventually, "you will have the most delicious fruit."

Seeing Miracles in the Ordinary

We must remember, as the Ramban says, tremendous miracles happened in the past. We recall them daily in Shirat HaYam. But miracles still occur; we just need to open our eyes and see them. Just like on Tu B'Shvat, we sit and say the 15 Shir Hama'alot (Psalms of Ascent) while eating 15 types of fruit. The essence of Tu B'Shvat is "Ma'alot"—to ascend, stair by stair, to lift ourselves higher, to perceive things positively, and to count Hashem's blessings. Then, we truly enjoy the "most delicious fruit."

And know this: "Mi Ma'amakim," whenever we cry out from the depths of our heart, Hashem listens and hears. As we reflect on Shirat HaYam on Shabbat Shira, let us pray for all those in need of shidduchim or parnassah. Hashem will fulfill all our prayers.

The Unexpected Blessing: A Shidduch Story

I'd like to share a beautiful story that illustrates these principles. A 28-year-old man was driving north to join his parents for vacation. Three and a half hours before Shabbat, needing gas, he mysteriously missed several exits until, an hour from his destination, he found a station.

There, he saw a panicky young woman with three small children. She had mistakenly filled her car with diesel, rendering it immobile. With Shabbat fast approaching, she was stranded. Without hesitation, he offered her his car keys and phone number. "Take my car," he urged. "I'll call my father to pick me up. You need to go; it's very late."

She was astonished. "You don't even know me! I'm a stranger!" He simply said, "It's fine. I know I'll get my car back." She drove off with her children, arriving safely.

On Sunday, when she returned his car, the young man's mother was home. The grateful woman said, "Your son saved my life! What gift can I possibly give him?" The mother replied: "A gift? You know what gift he needs? He needs a wife, a kallah! He's not yet married; he's 28, a wonderful boy, and somehow shidduchim haven't worked out for him."

They talked, and the young woman began making phone calls, talking to various people. Just three or four weeks later, a shidduch was suggested, and the young couple was engaged!

You see, shidduchim can indeed be difficult. But sometimes, when you simply do the right thing, a shidduch can manifest immediately. May all those in need of shidduchim find them, as "easily" (though his journey had its own challenges) as our young man did.

Have a wonderful Shabbos and a meaningful Tu B'Shvat!