Following in Nachshon's Footsteps

As we head into this weekend, we are moving into the final days of Pesach -- a continuation of the festival that has a character all its own. The 7th day of Pesach, in particular, is when we commemorate our ancestors' arrival at the Sea of Reeds and read the dramatic story of its miraculous splitting, the drowning of Pharaoh's army, and the Israelites' song of redemption. (If you're around this weekend and interested, I cordially invite you to join us tomorrow morning for our Shabbat Morning Minyan, which will feature all the usual singing and community plus the recitation of Shirat HaYam/the Song of the Sea, David's song of deliverance, and Hallel!)

A very famous set of midrashim hang on the Torah portion we will read tomorrow; they center on Nachshon ben Amminadav, who was the first to plunge into the sea. While his name does appear in the Torah -- he is identified in several lists as the representative/prince/chief of the tribe of Judah -- this particular story does not. Rather, it is found in rabbinic literature, with slightly different versions recounted in the Mekhilta d'Rabbi Yishmael and Pirke D'Rabbi Eliezer (two midrashic collections) and in the Talmud. Here is the Babylonian Talmud's version, from Sotah 37a:1-6.

R' Yehuda said to [R' Meir]: That is not what happened; each tribe was unwilling to be the first to enter the sea. Then sprang forward Nachshon the son of Amminadav (he was the prince of the tribe of Yehuda) and descended first into the sea; as it is said, Ephraim compasseth me about with falsehood, and the house of Israel with deceit; but Yehuda yet ruleth with G-d (Hosea 12:1; the last words are rad 'im el, which are interpreted: he descended (into the sea because his trust was) with G-d). Concerning him it is stated in Scripture, Save me O G-d, for the waters are come in unto my soul. I sink in deep mire, where there is no standing etc. Let not the water-flood overwhelm me, neither let the deep swallow me up (Psalms 69:2-3, 16). At that time, Moshe was engaged for a long while in prayer; so the Holy One said to him, 'My beloved ones are drowning in the sea and you prolong prayer before Me!' He spoke before God, 'Lord of the Universe, what is there in my power to do?' God replied to him, Speak to the children of Israel that they go forward. And lift up your rod, and stretch out your hand (Exodus 14:15-16). For that reason Yehuda was worthy to be made the ruling power in Israel, as it is said, Yehuda became God's sanctuary, Israel His dominion (the Temple was in the kingdom of Yehuda. 'His dominion' is understood as Yehuda's rule over Israel). Why did Yehuda become His sanctuary and Israel His dominion? Because the sea saw [him] and fled (Psalm 114:2-3).

To understand the midrash about Nachshon, we must first imagine the scene as the Torah presents it... and truly, we would be hard-pressed to dream up a higher drama, more tense moment even in a Hollywood thriller! After hundreds of years of enslavement and oppression, followed by the build-up of the ten plagues, the Israelites have finally eaten their meal of lamb, spread blood on their doorposts, and departed Egypt in a hurry. Now, at the climax of the story, they are made to "encamp before Pi-hahiroth, between Migdol and the sea, before Baal-zephon; you shall encamp facing it, by the sea" (Exodus 14:2). When Pharaoh changes his mind and sends his army after them, the Israelites realize that they are stuck between a rock and a hard place (or, more literally, between an army and a wet place?), and they panic. Where will they go and what will they do?! "Greatly frightened, the Israelites cried out to Adonai. 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?'" (Exodus 14:10-11).

This is where rabbinic imagination steps in. The Talmud's version of what comes next shows the tribes arguing over what to do. None of the tribes want to place themselves in a vulnerable position... so all wait to see whether someone else will make a first move. The Israelites are frozen in place.

It is Nachshon who manages to break all of Israel out of this place of stuck-ness. We can't know for sure what he's thinking, but he is portrayed here as a leader willing to act while others remain passive and paralyzed by fear. Other tellings of this story emphasize the huge personal risk that he takes on himself, describing in even more detail how he enters the water, first up to his waist, then up to his neck, and finally with water even covering his nose and mouth such that he can't breathe. Nachshon's brave decision to plunge forward into the sea is what spurs everyone around him into action as well... first Moses and God(!), and then all of the rest of the Israelites who follow him in.

The midrashim about Nachshon certainly help to answer a later question about why the tribe of Judah (descendants of Jacob's fourth son, as opposed to firstborn) comes to dominate and lead the collective people of Israel. (A genealogy in Ruth 4:18-22 explicitly shows Nachshon to be the great-great-great grandfather of King David, who will ultimately unite the northern and southern kingdoms.) In addition, though, the Nachshon story reads like a hero's tale! In the rabbis' telling, redemption could not have happened were it not for the courage and bravery of this individual who was willing, even at great personal risk to himself, to stick his neck out and lead the way.

What a powerful story to read this week, when the feeling of being trapped and stuck in a no-win situation resonates deeply for so many of us, both as Americans and as Jews!

In our country, we are beginning to see people take action and speak out in Nachshon-like ways against a chaotic and corrupt regime. For example, I know that many of us have been horrified by the lawless kidnapping of immigrants off the street without legality or due process... but, speaking for myself, it's been easy to feel stuck and not know exactly what to do or say that has the potential to actually move us forward. In recent weeks, I have found scholar Timothy Snyder's clear-eyed analysis to be helpful, as he has talked about the disappearing of people into foreign gulags as "the beginning of an American policy of state terror." I was grateful to read an official declaration earlier this month from Tufts University President Sunil Kumar, written on behalf of Turkish graduate student Rümeysa Öztürk. I have also been inspired by Senator Chris Van Hollen, who traveled to El Salvador to find and meet with his constituent Kilman Abrego Garcia. Each of these individuals feels to me like a "Nachshon" in this moment -- someone willing to step forward and speak out, even and especially at a moment when doing so comes with great personal risk. Their words and actions are worth amplifying, and I will strive to follow their examples.

As American Jews, this moment is also a confusing one, and one that has the potential to paralyze and/or divide our communities. Over the last couple of months, the new administration has tried to claim that many of these same anti-immigrant actions I've described above, as well as the broad-scale de-funding of universities and research, are all attempts to curb and address antisemitism. This too has created a situation of stuck-ness, making it hard for some Jews to speak out without having it sound as though we are condoning antisemitism. I am grateful for the clarity with which some Jewish university presidents have recently spoken out together against this "exploitation of campus antisemitism" (click here for a Forward article on this topic). In addition, just this week, a broad coalition of mainstream Jewish organizations have released a powerful statement "rejecting the false choice between confronting antisemitism and upholding democracy" (click here to view - it is absolutely worth a read). Again, each of these institutional heads and organizations feels like a Nachshon-style leader in this fraught moment. Their words have the potential to help move all of us forward, and I believe we would do well to fall in line behind them and push on our elected officials, the media, and even other local Jewish organizations to make similar statements (as, without a doubt, there is increased safety in numbers).

Passover seders happened last weekend, at the beginning of the holiday, and that's when so many of us sat around tables re-telling the story of the Exodus. This weekend, as we move into "shvi'i shel Pesach," the final days of this festival, I would encourage us to continue the sacred enterprise of telling stories and mapping them onto our lives and world... only this weekend, I'd love to see us focus more specifically on the story of Nachshon and his bravery. As individuals, I hope we will each consider what moral leadership looks like in this moment. Where, when and how are you (personally) willing to act and speak with courage and bravery? Can you rally? march? donate? reach out to your reps? How much personal risk are you willing to take on in an effort to do/say what feels right? Can you amplify the work of others who are already acting with such courage, or band together with others so that speaking out feels less risky? Rest assured that on a communal level, too, Kavana will strive to be a leader among non-profit organizations, acting as courageously as we possibly can and using our collective voice to move us all forward.

As we head into these final days of Pesach, may we all merit to follow in Nachshon's footsteps, propelling one another forward through the sea and beyond, to the vast wilderness of both redemption and unknown that lies ahead. 

Shabbat Shalom and Chag Sameach,

Rabbi Rachel Nussbaum

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