As my wife and I complete our fourth month of self-isolation and social distancing, we, along with all New Yorkers, look forward to an appropriate easing of the essential restrictions that were necessary to turn back the marauding devastation of the Covid-19 plague. It has been a difficult, but necessary lockdown period, providing us with unexpected opportunities for self-reflection and self-appraisal.
As we reenter the physical world outside our homes, there are powerful social movements that await us on the street. Our society is convulsing with eruptions of manifest racism. But there is also an increasing inclination to eradicate systemic inequalities in our nation. Each of us will react differently to the complicated challenges ahead, but in this regard, I believe our religious traditions can provide guidance as we make our decisions. They chronicle the spectrum of human behavior and provide examples both of deplorable behavior and extraordinary decency. Traditional Jewish sources highlight models of the two extremes of human behavior.
Bad behavior is exemplified in this Talmudic parable taught by Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai: “A group of people were on a ship. One of them took a drill and started drilling underneath his seat. The others said to him: What are you doing?! He replied: What do you care. Is this not underneath my seat that I am drilling?! They said to him: The seat may be yours but the water will rise and drown us all.”
The implications of this parable are playing out in our own day. Scientific data demonstrates that wearing a face covering and keeping social distance dampens the spread of Covid-19, so city and state regulations have made it mandatory. But there are people we pass on the street who, for whatever their reasons, don’t obey the rules. As in the parable, they would argue that they have the right to do what they want as long as, in their belief, it does not directly affect others. But our tradition continuously reiterates that private actions for good or bad have public consequences. What any of us does ripples in ever-increasing circles (especially in the matter of contagious disease). In so many ways, we are all in the same boat.
An alternate model of human behavior is contained in the noble story of Nahshon ben Aminadav. Though his name appears in the Torah, the story for which he is best known is from the Midrash (a folkloristic commentary on the Torah).
The episode occurs when the Israelites are fleeing their enslavement in Egypt. Just as they arrive at the shore of the Sea of Reeds (the Red Sea) which blocks their journey to the “Promised Land,” Pharaoh’s armed troops appear at the top of the hills around them. Riding in chariots and mounted on horseback, Pharaoh’s soldiers charge at the Israelites, intending to slaughter them. The Israelites were trapped between the waters of the Sea of Reeds and the Egyptians. There was no apparent means of escape.
According to the Midrashic account, Nahshon ben Aminadav began to walk into the water with no assurance of divine intervention. He continued walking into deeper water when it reached his knees. He continued forward as the water encircled his waist, and then reached his chest, and finally lapped at Nahshon’s neck. And only when the water reached just below his nose did the sea split. And the people were saved and walked between the parted walls of water to the far side.
The lesson in the Midrash is clear. Rather than despair, Nahshon took action. When the future seemed dire, Nahshon forged ahead.
In recounting this story, a rabbinic colleague concluded, “Often we do not know our own mettle until we are tested. Only in the midst of our troubles, do we marshal the courage, the strength we possess to make for a better life, a better world.”
Nahshon is a model of courage, faith, determination and belief in a better future. We can be Nahshon in our generation when, no matter what the obstacles, we muster the courage to imprint this creation with our faith, commitment and vision of a better society and then forge forward to make it happen.