COVID-19 and the song at the sea

RABBI GREG ALEXANDER

While I write this, I’m aware of the real and justified fear that I, you, and everyone else is feeling about this plague that has struck down our world. It’s easy to feel powerless in the face of the unknown, and I’m ever grateful for the gift of Torah to give us tools for dealing with any crisis.

As we prepare for a Pesach like no other, I can imagine our ancestors, the children of Israel, huddled at the shores of the Yam Suf, the Sea of Reeds. In front of them, the waters stretch out as an impossible obstacle to cross. Behind them is the sound of the pounding hooves of Pharaoh’s army intent on bringing them back as slaves to Egypt or leaving them dead at the side of the sea.

What was their response? Panic, fear, fighting within themselves? Surely they felt all these emotions. The Torah describes their bitter cries so poignantly, “Was it for lack of graves in Egypt that you brought us to die in the wilderness?” (Ex 14:11). But with guidance from G-d and Moses (and the courage of one person brave enough to walk into the waters – another story for another time – they do two things: they walk forward into the parted waters on dry land, and they sing a song. Walk and sing.

We know how the story continues as we recount it every year around our seder tables – crisis passed, redemption achieved, path set to Mount Sinai and the promised land beyond. How can we adapt this teaching to our present situation? How can this moment in our collective history give us the tools to cope with the terrible plague we are afflicted with in our time?

Let’s begin by walking. This is a sore point, as a big part of why I live in Cape Town is the unmitigated joy of walking in the beauty of the Table Mountain Nature Reserve. And this I can’t do right now. But for us today, walking means something else. It means to journey, to go forward. Like when G-d commands Moses and the Jewish people at the sea, “Vayisa’u (go forward)” (Ex 14:15). Don’t just stand there – do something! We can’t walk far right now. For me, it’s a maximum 30 metres from one side of our flat to the other. But what we can’t do now is be paralysed with fear.

Walking now means to reach out (not literally) to neighbours over the fence, and speak, connect in ways you might have never done before corona. To call someone in your contacts you haven’t spoken to in years. To send that email you’ve been wanting to write, but never had the time. To get off Netflix, and read an inspiring poem, learn a skill, and commit to studying something Torah-related to nurture your soul. To think how you can bring hope and positivity to the members of your family or community – and to yourself. This is the way forward.

Now, let’s speak about singing. The song our ancestors sang is complex, a pouring out of emotions at their moment of redemption. It contains their fears of dying, and the relief they felt when they were saved. Surely this is the song we need now.

While we can’t control the plague, and we can’t control the actions of those out there, some of whom seem to deny the responsibility they have to stay home, what we can control is our own actions. We can respond with panic and fear (both valid, but it won’t help us going forward), or we can respond with song. Let us sing out from our lockdown, from our pods to the world outside, and to Hashem who saves, heals, and redeems. Let us sing all our hopes and fears, all our yearnings for health and healing. Sing from your heart, from your soul. For this is in our power to do.

You see, song is prayer, and prayer can be an expression of gratitude for something good already experienced. But prayer can also be a reassuring statement of faith in the midst of uncertainty, a chance to voice our belief that in the midst of chaos, gam zeh ya’avor (this too shall pass), and we can get through this together. More than that, prayer can also be a defiant attempt to talk a better reality into existence. It can be a call out to the creator and sustainer of our world that we need help. Right here, right now. As we say, repeatedly, in our prayers, “Oseh shalom bimromav [may the one who makes peace in the high places]; ya’aseh shalom aleinu [make peace for us down here].” It’s one thing for the angels to enjoy peace up there, but we’re afraid, we’re suffering, we’re dying down here. We would like some of that shalom (peace) right here, please.

That Batmitzvah who gave her song as a gift for everyone locked down, her Torah portion was the song at the sea. And she chanted that song in such a moving way that everyone in shul that day will never forget it. The song is introduced with the words, “As yashir Moshe uVnei Yisrael” (Ex 15:1), which literally means, “And then Moses and the children of Israel will sing…” Most translations have “and then Moses and the Israelites sang” in the past tense, but the verb is future tense. One midrash (commentary) explains it as follows, “Moses not only sang then, but will sing in the future as well.” (Mechilta Shirata 1).

We sing now in the hope that we’ll continue to sing in the future. As the psalmist puts it, “I will sing to my G-d while I exist.” (Ps 146:2). May we keep our songs singing for the days and weeks ahead until we can once again fill our synagogues with the sound of our voices.

• Rabbi Greg Alexander is part of the rabbinic team at the Cape Town Progressive Jewish Congregation. See all online offerings at www.templeisrael.co.za