No chosenness without unity
Torah Study
RABBI ISMAR SCHORSCH
Yitro/Exodus 18:1 - 20:23
Three months after fleeing Egypt, the Israelites arrived at Mount Sinai: "Having journeyed from Rephidim, they entered the wilderness of Sinai and encamped in the wilderness. Israel encamped there in front of the mountain" (Exodus 19:2).
Lost in this translation is the fact that although the verb "encamped" appears twice in this verse, the first time it is plural in form, while the second time singular (even though the subject remains the same).
Rashi notes the sudden shift from plural to singular and throws the following bombshell: "The singular verb form suggests that the entire nation encamped at Sinai like one man with one heart. All the many other encampments of Israel in the wilderness, however, were marked by complaining and controversy."
Unity is not the normal state of affairs for the people of Israel. Indeed, it is an experience about as rare as the revelation at Sinai. Gathered to receive their divine mandate, the culmination of the Exodus ordeal, the Israelites attain a moment of complete harmony and concord, among themselves, with Moses and with God. The singular verb is not a slip by a careless scribe, but the overt indicator of an inner transformation.
But neither divine miracles without number nor Mosaic leadership are enough to impose a semblance of lasting unity on Pharaoh's former slaves. The pattern of interminable grousing is established early and persists. Although the Torah states that the miraculous deliverance at the Sea of Reeds imbued the people with a deep faith in both God and Moses (Exodus 14:31), how quickly did they revert to their habit of rejecting Moses's leadership at every instance of hardship! The Song at the Sea is followed by three quick instances of bitter disgruntlement.
In the public ceremony ratifying the covenant, the people obligate themselves with one indivisible voice: "All that the Lord has spoken we will faithfully do" (Exodus 24:7). But again, as subsequent episodes, such as the Golden Calf, attest, the upsurge of faith and unity is short-lived. Later, civil war would often mar the period of the Judges and the First Temple.
Yet surely the covenant, which rendered Israel a kingdom of priests and a holy nation, implied the ideal of national unity. A fractured Israel brings no glory to God. Nor does a "saving remnant." The world is cluttered with "saving remnants," the fossil remains of once-vibrant religious or national communities.
The permanent exhibition of the Diaspora Museum in Tel Aviv begins with a replica of the relief from the Arch of Titus, depicting Jewish prisoners bearing Temple artifacts (a large seven-branched menorah, for example) into exile. Nearby, a piece of signage unfurls the Museum's concept of Jewish history: "This is the story of a people which was scattered over all the world and yet remained a single family, a nation which time and again was doomed to destruction and yet out of ruins, rose to new life." These stirring words attest to an unbroken national will to live.
This same lofty affirmation of Jewish unity is voiced in the synagogue when we recite the prayer for the advent of a new month, as we do this Shabbat for Adar One. The prayer closes: "May the One who wrought miracles for our ancestors, taking them from slavery to freedom, soon redeem us, gathering our dispersed kin from the four corners of the earth. For all Israel is one fellowship."
There is no chosenness without unity. The key to unity is a healthy respect for diversity. God's revelation abounds with a multiplicity of meanings. Membership in the Jewish people is defined not creedally or behaviorally, but in terms of a relationship. As long as one is engaged in the study of Torah, one is a member of God's chosen people.
Rabbi Ismar Schorsch is chancellor of the Jewish Theological Seminary in New York.
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