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Jewish World Review April 29, 2005 / 20 Nissan, 5765 Passover, and the Divine's silence By Rabbi Nathan Lopes Cardozo
When the Israelites left Egypt on their way to the land of Israel, Divine intervention was very apparent. The Ten Plagues, the splitting of the Red Sea and the many other smaller and larger miracles showed full evidence of G-d's intervention in man's affairs. Consequently, our general reading of those years make us believe that anyone living under such miraculous conditions would not have had any other option but to be a deeply religious person.
The foremost commentator, Rashi, in his commentary on the Torah, gives us however a totally different version of the events:
This is a most remarkable and far-reaching observation. What we are told is that most of the time that the Israelites traveled through the desert, there was no special Divine providence. G-d did not speak to them and consequently the Israelites had to deal with the question of G-d's interference not much differently from the way modern man does. Although the miraculous bread, manna, fell and other smaller miracles did take place, it becomes clear that these events no longer had any real effect on the religious condition of the Israelites.
Not for nothing did they say that this manna was lechem hakelokel, repulsive bread (Numbers 21.5). They saw these miracles as common events not much different than the way we view the laws of nature. (We are reminded of Rabbi Eliyahu Dessler's famous observation — Michtav Me-Eliyahu 1 — that the laws of nature are nothing more than the frequency of miracles, something which famous philosophers of science such as Karl Popper have fully endorsed from a secular point of view (The Logic of Scientific Discovery). Indeed on several occasions the Israelites asked whether G-d still lived among them.
It is perhaps this fact which makes Passover so relevant to our own time: The realization that even at the time of the greatest miracles, many years pass by without G-d making Himself known in any form or way! Sitting at the Seder table we often feel that we are reading a story that has little in common with our days and lives. We complain that G-d has become silent and that His spoken word is no longer available. How than can we believe in His existence and why should we listen to His words of many thousands of years ago? We are today confronted with a Deus Absconditus, an absent G-d, and no story about G-d's open intervention in history is able to reach us any longer. G-d's silence has made us deaf. So we complain.
And even when we admit that G-d did not speak with Moses and the Israelites for 38 years, we still make the powerful point that we have not heard from Him for more than two thousand years! Not just 38! So why ask us to deliberate on an event which occurred thousands of years ago and with which we have almost nothing in common?
But with hindsight we may have to radically change our view. We need to realize that the silence of these 38 years must have been much more frightening than all the Divine silence of our last two thousand years. While we are, to a great extent, able to take care of ourselves, and be much more independent, this was not the case for our forefathers in the desert. They encountered the emptiness of desert land. There were no natural resources, food, water, or any other basic items, without which even the most elementary forms of life are impossible.
True, we are told that water and food was miraculously provided. However, once G-d stopped speaking with them in the middle of the desert and they realized that this thundering silence of G-d could continue day after day, this Godly silence must have been more dreadful than anything we can imagine. This coupled with the frightening awareness that they had nothing to fall back on if G-d decided to stop providing them with water and food. Being used to revealed miracles and then suddenly overnight finding oneself in an icy absence of any divine interference, right in the middle of a desert, must have been too much to bear. G-d's "indifference", no doubt, created a devastating traumatic experience without precedence.
(The absence of G-d's word for all these 38 years throws a radically different light on much of the Israelites' upheavals and complaints in the desert as mentioned in the Torah.)
When we realize that the story of the Exodus was mainly a story of Divine silence and that only occasionally a word of G-d entered the human condition, we also become conscious of the fact that the story that we read on the Seder night is most relevant. While the words of the Haggadah relate the miracles, the "empty spaces" between the words tell us of the frightening Divine silence of these very 38 years. And just as our forefathers must often have wondered what happened to G-d's presence, during all these years, so do we. But just as they came through so must we.
The art is to hear G-d in His silence and to see His miracles in His "absence". It is in the balance of these two facts that life takes place. Every weekday JewishWorldReview.com publishes uplifting articles. Sign up for the daily JWR update. It's free. Just click here. JWR contributor Rabbi Nathan Lopes Cardozo is a world-renowned lecturer and ambassador for Judaism, the Jewish people, Sephardic Heritage and the State of Israel. To comment, please
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© 2005, Rabbi Nathan Lopes Cardozo. | ||||||||||
