pesach

During the course of Passover, in addition to reading the Haggadah, we read the Torah’s account of the final Exodus from Egypt. Stage by stage, plague by plague, our ancestors were liberated from Egypt until, finally, they reached the other side of the sea and began their journey to Mt. Sinai, the setting of this Shabbat’s Torah portion.
When I think of the end of the flight from Egypt, the image of Israel dancing on the shores of the sea comes to mind. Not only, the men, but the women of Israel danced, led by Moses’ sister Miriam. Miriam, too, picked up the timbrel and danced in celebration of Israel’s safe deliverance. Interestingly, the celebration did not last very long. Faced with the prospect of a long uncomfortable journey, the people of Israel quickly returned to their usual complaining. “The food is no good,” “Moses is away too long,” “Moses has too much power,” and on and on it went.
Unfortunately the same pattern of special celebrations followed by the restoration of “the same old, same old” marks many of our lives. We seem to have certain special moments lived above the fray and then long stretches of the “everyday.” Our tradition offers us special reminders of the peak moments to help lift us when our spirits are down. In services, after saying the Sh’ma, we sing the Mi Camocha. The Mi Camocha comes from the section of the Torah which includes the Song of Moses and the Dance of Miriam at the Red Sea. We don’t read this passage from the Torah just once a year but daily and at every Shabbat service. We recall in words and song the defining moment of liberation which shaped us a people.
Gentle remembrances of the sweet and significant moments of our lives are an important part of living. We all have our own special blessings and memories. We can call on them at will for strength, comfort and perspective.
So when Passover is done and the Haggadahs are put away and the family has gone home, we need to remember to keep singing. Every day has a new miracle waiting for us and every day lived has a blessing to recall. Perhaps the perspective from the other side of the sea is to keep rejoicing, keep recalling and, always, to move forward.