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piece of wood: The wood of the oak contains tannin, which neutralizes albuminous matter, coagulates it, and makes it sink to the bottom. Rabbi W. Gunther Plaut
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The devastation of the ten plagues concluded, the newly liberated Israelites celebrate Passover and begin their exodus from Egypt. This week's Parasha Beshalach describes the climactic scene where they reach Yam Suf, the Sea of Reeds (not to be confused with Israel's "Red Sea" -- also called Yam Suf) but probably a shallow, fresh water lagoon in the north-eastern region of Egypt). The Israelites- chased by Egyptian chariots and trapped by the sea- initially (and understandably) panic. The Torah then describes the miraculous splitting of the sea, the Israelites' passage to safety, and the annhiliation of the Egyptian army. After witnessing the plagues of Egypt, and now this amazing display of God's power and deliverance, they break into song: Shirat HaYam. (This Shabbat is therefore given a special name: Shabbat Shirah; the Sabbath of Song, and many synagogues offer special musical programming.) This special "Song of the Sea" poem is written in a distinctive pattern in the Torah scroll with alternate half-lines (the Talmud describes them as a half brick over a whole brick) which some liken to the waves of water. The poem is also sung with its own unique melody when the Torah is chanted.
You would think that the story at this point would have a fairy-tale ending; everyone should live happily ever after. But instead, immediately after this amazing display of God's redemption, we hear the beginning of the complaints which will become a theme for the remainder of the Torah. First, the water is bitter. Then the Israelites miss Egyptian cuisine and complain that there is not enough food. Then there was no water. Complain, complain, complain. In each case, God (and Moses) patiently solve the crisis. There are lots of miracles: manna, quail, water from rocks.
This first miracle in the wilderness subtly parallels the first plague on the Nile. Ibn Ezra points out that the Nile waters were initially sweet and made undrinkable. Here we have the reverse: the waters of Marah were initially bitter, and made potable. In our story, God instructs Moses to put in a wood that 'sweetens' the water. What was the identity of this mysterious wood, I wonder? The Torah doesn't say. Since this week's parasha falls on the Shabbat before Tu B'Shevat, let us consider this anonymous tree in honour of the 'holiday of the trees'. Rabbi Plaut suggests a possible scientific, natural explanation: an oak's tannins would interact with the water's albuminous matter to make the water potable. Ramban agrees that the plain meaning [pshat] of the text is that there exists a tree with this quality, and God showed (literally: taught) Moses.
The medieval Arab philosopher, Avicenna believed that the carob tree (since it has sweet fruit perhaps) could sweeten brackish or saline water. The carob (kharuv) is an attractive broadleaf tree that grows wild in Israel and stays green all year long. Although the carob tree and its curved, brown seed pods are mentioned many times in rabbinic literature, surprisingly, there is no mention of the carob in the Bible. In ancient times, the pods were collected by the poor for food, and considered the lowliest of foods. Carobs are associated with Tu B'Shevat since in Eastern Europe, no other perishable fruit from Israel could be obtained, and many readers can probably remember when they were children 'breaking their teeth' on the sweet, hard pods. The Yiddish 'Bokser' is a corruption of the German Bocks'horn, or ram's horn. Carob is also called 'St. John's bread' and 'locust bean'.
(Although we mentioned last week that the locusts of the eighth plague were actually edible, when the Christian Bible tells us that "locusts and wild honey" were his food (Matthew 3:4) it is referring to carob, not the insect variety!) (Many processed foods today, like cream cheese and ice cream, include 'locust bean gum'. It's a thickener made from the lowly carob that helps prevent ice crystal growth and is especially suitable for dairy products!
Another identification is the olive. Here, instead of imagining something sweet to remedy the bitter waters, the rabbis use a homeopathic principle. God uses something bitter to undo the bitterness. And fresh olives really are very bitter because of oleuropin, the acrid, bitter tasting compound found in their skin. On our recent trip to Israel we saw many olive trees, and some still had fruit on them, and anyone who tried to taste them found out how bitter they are before they are 'cured.' In the story of Noah and the flood, the Rabbis imagine the dove who plucks the olive leaf to be saying, "Better the food which comes freely from the Holy Blessed One [even though it is bitter] than the most succulent of dainties if one is dependent on humans." Although I think we intuitively would associate the idea of freedom with sweetness, in the Torah both the olive leaf, and in our story the freedom of the Israelites with the bitter water, connects freedom with bitterness. What can we do to sweeten the bitterness?
The answer, in honour of Tu B'Shevat, is that there is one other 'tree' that we can connect to sweetness. The Rabbis notice that God doesn't 'show' Moses, but instead, 'instructs' him "VaYoreihu", from the root (yoreh) like the word Torah. On the word: VaYoreihu the Midrash suggests: "Adonai taught a word of Torah which is likened to the tree of life." The Torah is called the Tree of Life, and the two wooden rollers of the Torah scroll are called 'atzei hayyim'. (Etz Hayim is the name of the wonderful Conservative Chumash and commentary.) The famous midrash Shir HaShirim Rabbah compares the Torah to a variety of fluids: water, wine, oil, honey, and milk. The phrase 'milk and honey' is usually understood to refer to the land of Israel, but the Rabbis see it as a metaphor for Torah. Just as milk and honey are sweet and nourishing throughout, so are the words of the Torah, as it says, "Sweeter also than honey" (Psalm 19: 11).
Lessons for Today
The Torah is also likened to water: the Rabbis saw the Israelites without water for three days as a metaphor for Torah. Just as the body cannot survive for three days without water, the soul cannot go three days without Torah. Hence the sages instituted Torah readings on (the market days) Mondays and Thursdays in addition to Shabbat, so we never go more than three days without having contact with the words of Torah. Isaiah compared Torah to water: "Ho everyone that thirsts come ye for water" (Isa. 55, 1). Rabbi Akiva, defied the Romans' prohibition against Torah study arguing: "Just as fish cannot survive outside of water, we too, cannot survive without Torah."
The Torah says, "they couldn't drink the water because it was bitter." In Hebrew, water, mayim is a plural noun, so a literal translation would be: 'because they were bitter.' It then is not clear who 'they' refers to. Who was bitter: the water, or the people complaining? Itturei Torah adds: "Bitterness was not the actual condition of the water; rather, the Israelites felt bitter and, therefore, whatever they tasted was bitter to them." Further on, in verse 22, it says they found no water, not that there was no water. In fact, the water was right there at the oasis of Eilim that we read a few verses later on. They didn't find it because they were so busy complaining.
Was the water truly bitter, or were the Israelites just whiners? Were the Israelites complaining because they had no water, or no Torah, i.e. no set of instructions by which to live? So often our attitude colours our experience. If we are bitter, then everything around us will seem acrid. The theme of bitter and sweet is at the core of the religious experience; a religious attitude can sweeten life's bitterness. Whether the Torah is the tree, the water, or the manna, it is Torah that can 'sweeten' our life. How are we going to respond to life and its challenges? The daily morning prayers provides an answer, "Adonai, our God, may the words of Your Torah be sweet in our mouths and in the mouth of your people, the house of Israel." May the sweetness of the carobs and figs and dates we eat this coming Tu B'Shevat remind us of the sweetness in our lives and inspire us to bring sweetness into the lives of those around us.
Shabbat Shalom, and a Happy sweet, Tu B'Shevat.
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