Meeting God on the Battle Line
Parashat Beshalach, Exodus 13:17–17:16; Haftarah, Judges 4:4–5:31
Rabbi Stuart Dauermann, PhD, Shuvah Israel, Plainview, NY
There comes a time when God’s people need to battle, when a crisis demands we mobilize to face obstacles and opposition. At such times, while some prefer to remain spectators, and others to be support personnel behind the lines, some will engage in the thick of things, believing themselves called to give their all in a time of transition, opportunity, or threat.
In our readings today, we see God mobilizing his people, providing wisdom for facing the battles before them.
Our haftarah (Judges 4:4–5:31) teaches us that God is pleased to use improbable people.
Consider D’vorah the Prophetess, a rarity in the Tanakh as a front-line woman leader. She is the visionary—with a divinely charged inner knowledge of what’s coming up and what needs doing. Then there’s Barak, the military man who needs propping up. He is the functionary—who takes care of business and manages the battle. Finally, there’s the foreigner, Ya’el the Kenite, the activist who, in a moment of opportunity, takes matters into her own hands and does what needs doing. All three of these people were improbable and even imperfect, but each in turn was crucial to winning the battle. And such improbable people needed to work together to gain the victory.
Shof’tim/Judges chapter five reflects on this battle, reminding us that even victory can be messy. Only some of the tribes came up to battle while others malingered. But the passage commends the leaders who served and the people who volunteered freely.
What lessons can we draw? First, in fighting any battle, there must be a division of labor, of gifts and calling. Some will be visionaries, others functionaries, and some activists, troops, or support personnel. All are needed, and none should despise the other.
From our Torah reading, we find one more lesson, not so much about who fights the battle, as when the battle will be fought.
In this week’s parasha God leads Israel the long way around in their journey to the Land of Promise. The stated reason is that they were insufficiently formed and not yet strong enough to withstand the opposition they would encounter from the Philistines arrayed in their path.
Adonai was concerned with their unprepared and fearful condition (Sh’mot/Exodus 13:17–18). But shouldn’t his desire to get his people to Sinai and give them his law have overruled this consideration? Couldn’t he have just subdued the Philistines while his people made the shorter journey?
No, because God’s intention for his people then, as now, was not simply a utilitarian one. It was a relational intention. He was not shaping an army as much as forming the hearts and souls of his people.
Look at it this way: God could have called Moshe to deliver Israel from Egypt 40 years earlier than he did, without that Mosaic interlude tending sheep in Midian.
But while Moshe was tending sheep, God was shaping a shepherd for the flock of Israel.
And later, when Israel arrived at the border of the Land of Promise (at Kadesh Barnea), and ten of twelve spies spooked the people into rebelling against going into the Land, Israel would then spend another 38 years stuck in the wilderness until that entire generation died off, with the exception of Y’hoshua and Kalev (B’midbar/Numbers 14:26–30).
In D'varim/Deuteronomy 1:2 we’re reminded that it was only eleven days’ journey from Kadesh Barnea to the Land of Promise. But God took 38 years to make the trip! What was he doing? The God who was calling his people to do his work in the world was more interested in the workers than the work
To live with God, and to fight his battles, requires us to respect matters of timing. We long for something good, we pray for something holy, we wait and wait and wait . . . but nothing.
Because God’s view differs from our own, he may be preparing us for things we cannot see, and protecting us from battle-dangers we cannot fathom. And all along he is shaping us into an image that at this time is too bright for our eyes to see.
What does this mean for us? It means we must give the right answer to this question he asks of us: Do you trust me?
In many passages of life, in peace or in war, this is the central, transformational question. When we settle that issue, stormy seas grow calm, battles are won, and our impatient grumbling is transmuted into a humbled, “Yes, Lord!”
The Letter to Ya’akov steers us in the right direction, reminding us three times to be patient: “Be patient, therefore, brothers, until the coming of the Lord. See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, being patient about it, until it receives the early and the late rains. You also, be patient. Establish your hearts” (Ya’akov 5:7–8).
Whether we are visionaries, functionaries, activists, troops, support personnel, or even bystanders, may God give all of us established hearts, as we await the outworking of his perfect purpose and pleasure.