The Secret of the Sea and the Dry Land: The Splitting of the Red Sea According to Chassidus | Shabbos Shirah

00:00 What exactly happened at the Splitting of the Sea? What is its message? What does it mean for us? We know that one of the greatest miracles and wonders of the Exodus from Egypt was the great miracle of the Splitting of the Sea. He turned the sea into dry land—something with no explanation according to nature—and we make a whole point of it. We mention it every day in prayer. In Shacharis, we recount the details, down to the smallest details, and recite the Song at the Sea as well. The siddur and Shulchan Aruch say that we should recite the Song at the Sea with concentration and joy. But what actually happened at the Splitting of the Sea? When we stop to think about it, what was the purpose of the miracle? We know that Hakadosh Boruch Hu does not perform miracles for nothing. “Hakadosh Boruch Hu does not perform a miracle in vain.” If a miracle happens, it has a particular, very important purpose. What exactly was the purpose of the Splitting of the Sea? After all, if we think about the details, the Jewish people entered and came out at the same place, as Tosafos says in Pesachim. In other words, they did not actually cross the sea. So just to go in and come out—why cause such an upheaval? And if we say, as the commentators suggest and Tosafos cites, that it was to destroy the Egyptians, who fell into the sea and drowned, Hakadosh Boruch Hu could have done that in many other ways too. Was such a miracle necessary, such a historic miracle, overturning all the rules of nature and splitting the sea just so the tribes could enter and come out at the same place, and just to kill—to punish—the Egyptians? Hakadosh Boruch Hu could have done that in many other ways.

02:04 It’s very interesting. In the Pesach Haggadah, in the famous refrain of Dayeinu, we also say: “Had He—had He brought us across...” It says there: “Had He split the sea for us but not brought us through it on dry land, it would have been enough for us.” What does that mean? One straightforward reading of those words is that if Hakadosh Boruch Hu had split the sea for us and we had not crossed it, that too would have been enough. What does it mean to split the sea without crossing it? What purpose would that serve? True, some commentators explain that “but not brought us through it on dry land” means we would have crossed, but it would not have been dry. There would have been some mud, some dampness, and we would still have been happy. That’s a nice explanation, but what is the message of the Splitting of the Sea itself? It seems there is something absolutely central and essential about it. That is why we make such a celebration of it, to the point that this Shabbos is called Shabbos Shirah. Besides being Shabbos Parshas Beshalach, it is also Shabbos Shirah, named for the Song at the Sea that the Jewish people sang when they saw the great miracle of the Splitting of the Sea. Halachah also requires us to mention the Splitting of the Sea every day, because it is an essential part of the Exodus from Egypt. Until they crossed the sea, they still lived in fear of Egypt. In other words, it marked the completion of the Exodus. Once it was over and they saw that not a single one of the Egyptians remained, the miracle was complete. That does give us some explanation, a satisfying reason why the Splitting of the Sea is considered the conclusion of the Exodus and therefore has special importance. But our question is: What is so important about the Splitting of the Sea itself? This act of splitting the sea into pieces—“He divided the Sea of Reeds into parts and brought Israel through it.”

04:09 What is the great kindness in that—“for His kindness is everlasting”? So today we’re going to explore the essence of the Splitting of the Sea through the explanations of Chassidus, which open our eyes to see that something much deeper is happening here than appears on the surface. The Splitting of the Sea was an essential part of the process the Jewish people went through as they became a nation, left Egypt, and headed toward receiving the Torah. It was something deeply significant in preparing for that long-awaited, historic moment of receiving the Torah. And it will open our eyes to understand the whole subject of observing the mitzvos. What was new about Matan Torah? The observance of halachah, the study of halachah. There is another reason to speak about this subject right now: these days, we are also celebrating the great occasion of completing the Rambam. In the coming days, on Sunday, we complete all the books—all the halachos—of the Rambam, in accordance with the wonderful practice the Rebbe taught us of studying the Rambam. Those who study three chapters a day generally complete the Rambam in a year or a little less. Those who study one chapter a day complete the Rambam every three years, and this year they too will complete the Rambam next week. And those who study Sefer Hamitzvos—those who find it difficult to study the Rambam and study Sefer Hamitzvos, like the children—will complete Sefer Hamitzvos on the same day as well. So this year all the Rambam completions come together precisely on the days when we read about the Splitting of the Sea in the Torah. There is a very deep connection between these things. If

06:19 we understand what the Splitting of the Sea is telling us, we will also understand what is so wonderful about studying halachah. What does studying the Rambam really represent? Why is it so important? Why is it so precious and wonderful, this practice the Rebbe taught us of studying the Rambam’s halachos every day? Well, as we said, at the Splitting of the Sea, He turned the sea into dry land, and the Jewish people walked on dry land in the midst of the sea—or through the sea on dry land, as the verses put it. In other words, at the Splitting of the Sea there was a kind of joining, a uniting of sea and dry land. What does the sea represent? What does dry land represent? When we look at it, the sea is a place full of water. When you look at the sea, the only thing you see is water. You see nothing but water. The water covers the entire area, “as the waters cover the sea.” Beneath the water there is a whole world—fish, every kind of fish, and all the creatures of the sea. The sea is a place teeming with life, but everything is covered by water. So much so that, as the Gemara teaches us—and as we can see in reality—the creatures of the sea cannot be separated from it even for a moment. Take a fish out of the sea for a moment, and it dies. We all know the story of Rabbi Akiva. When people came and asked him why he was risking his life to study Torah when there were decrees against it—perhaps he should stop studying Torah for a while—what did he answer? He gave the famous parable of the fox and the fish. The fish were in the water, distressed and darting about, and the fox said to them: “Come with me; let’s live on dry land.” They told him: “Fool! In the sea we have life. Outside the sea we have no life.” So the sea represents this connection between the creatures in it and

08:28 Their source of life is present so powerfully that, apart from the sea, the water, you see nothing else. Every creature in the sea must remain connected, attached, and united with its source, with its root, in a way that it cannot separate from it. Dry land is the opposite. The creatures on land are not visibly connected to their source of life at all. After all, it says that creatures came from the earth: “Let the earth bring forth living creatures”—“let the earth bring forth.” Man was created from dust of the ground. All the animals on land came from the earth, and yet they do not have to remain attached, connected, and united with the ground. On the contrary, human beings, animals, and trees are separate from it. Trees do need to be connected to receive their nourishment, but ultimately they grow above the ground. All the more so animals, birds—and people. A person can even spend time at sea; it does not harm him. So what exactly does each one represent? The sea and dry land represent two kinds of life, two kinds of created beings, two entirely different worlds. The sea represents a creature that must remain attached to its source of life at all times. Dry land represents the complete opposite: a creature that is separate and apart. If we translate this into spiritual terms, as Chassidus does, it is the difference between the physical world and the spiritual worlds—the difference between what Kabbalah calls alma de’iskasya and alma de’isgalya. In other words, when Hakadosh Boruch Hu created the world, He created two kinds of beings. There are beings like the angels and the souls above in Gan Eden, which are constantly united and connected with their root and source, with Hakadosh Boruch

10:42 Hu. They cannot be separated or disconnected from Him. And then there is the physical world, which Hakadosh Boruch Hu also creates and brings into being. Yet the connection between a created thing and the Divine power that brings it into being is not visibly apparent. In the higher worlds, that connection shines clearly and plainly. Just as fish live within the sea, so the beings in the higher worlds—the angels above and the souls in Gan Eden—are constantly attached and united with the Divine light, with the infinite light, like fish in water. That is why Kabbalah calls it alma de’iskasya, a world entirely covered over. You do not see the world; you see only the Divine light, and the created being is completely covered and surrounded by it. The physical world is alma de’isgalya, a revealed world—a world in which the concealment is out in the open. The word olam, “world,” is related to he’elem, “concealment.” You see the physical, material world; the Divine light, not so much. You do not see it, even though it is there. This is what we call nature. Chassidus tells us that the Hebrew word for nature, teva, is related to the word for sinking, as when something sinks in the sea. Then you see the water, not the thing that sank. But with the physical world, the reverse is true: the Divine light is submerged and out of sight. You see the physical thing, but not the Divine light within it. So that is the great difference between sea and dry land. If we translate it into our own lives, it is the difference between our soul as it exists above, in the higher worlds before descending into this physical world, and the soul as it exists here. Above, it is in the state represented by the sea. Every one of us has a soul: “The soul You have given me is pure.” The soul is Divine. It is in Gan Eden, in the higher world, standing before Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and it is

12:43 completely united and attached to Him, like a fish in water. The Zohar calls souls “nunei yama,” fish of the sea. The souls in Gan Eden are like fish in the sea. When a soul descends into this world and is clothed in a physical, material body, amid a physical world, with an animal soul and a yetzer hara, that is the state represented by dry land. These are two worlds completely separate from each other. What exactly happened at the moment of the Splitting of the Sea? The sea became dry land. The great miracle was that two utterly different, separate worlds came together. That is the whole essence of the Splitting of the Sea: it followed the Exodus from Egypt and prepared the way for the Giving of the Torah. As we all know, the Jewish people had been in Egypt, “the nakedness of the land,” living among the Egyptians, who treated us harshly and afflicted us. While the Jewish people were in Egypt, they were also, as we know, at the gates of impurity. They were very, very far from Divine holiness, from spirituality, from Divine light, and they kept sinking to the lowest levels. In His great mercy, at the Exodus from Egypt, Hakadosh Boruch Hu took the Jewish people and brought us out of all that filth, all that defilement, all that impurity. Hakadosh Boruch Hu Himself descended to rescue us—not through an angel, not through a seraph, not through a messenger, but Hakadosh Boruch Hu Himself: “I, and no other.” He came to bring us out of “the nakedness of the land,” took us, and led us across the sea. Now we are on our way to receive the Torah. What is about to happen? Look at the sea and you will see. The sea has become dry land. In other words, there is a sea here, and within the sea there is dry land. The two can exist

14:53 together, even though they are opposites. They are together, one within the other: dry land within the sea, and the sea within the dry land. This tells us that a new era is about to begin, in which a Jew can live in this physical world and be connected with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. These are not two opposing worlds. One can have a spiritual life, the life of the soul, a life of G-dliness and attachment to Hakadosh Boruch Hu like a fish in water, while still being here in the physical world, living a physical life. One can take the world as it is—a physical, material world—and bring Divine power into its physicality, making physical things part of Divine holiness. Take something physical from the world and use it to fulfill a mitzvah: physical tefillin, physical tzitzis, physical Shabbos candles. All kinds of physical things in the world become holy objects, articles of holiness, objects used for mitzvos. That is what the Torah’s laws are about. Halachah. The Rambam. The Rambam’s work that we study, the books of halachah that we study. The Rambam teaches us laws in fourteen sections, each dealing with another area of halachah. The laws concern physical things. There is the Book of Knowledge, where the Rambam explains the important subjects of faith in Hashem, but he also discusses good character traits in our relationships with other people, and idolatry, with all its rules and details. Then there is the Book of Love, on the mitzvos of tefillin, mezuzah, a Torah scroll, and the recitation of Shema. After that comes the Book of Seasons, where he discusses the laws of Shabbos, Yom Tov, festivals and holidays, and so on and so forth. All the mitzvos are connected with material, physical things. Whatever the mitzvah may be, there is always some connection to the physical. A mitzvah with no connection to the physical is not a mitzvah. One

17:15 One of the wonderful things explained in the sefarim—and the Rebbe speaks about it so often—is that even the mitzvos we call spiritual mitzvos, such as loving Hashem, Ahavas Yisroel, fearing Hashem, and believing in Hashem, are not merely spiritual. One might think they are, but no. According to halacha, the mitzvah of loving Hashem is fulfilled when that love penetrates the physical heart. You begin to feel it: the heart responds differently when you feel that love. And the same is true when you contemplate in order to bring faith into your mind. The physical brain grasps that contemplation of faith in Hashem, connects with it, and becomes deeply absorbed in it. This is true of all the mitzvos, and all the more so of the other mitzvos that directly involve the physical parts of our bodies. That, in essence, is what the splitting of the sea was about. When the Jewish people left Egypt, they crossed through the sea. This is what we say: “Had He taken us out of Egypt; had He split the sea for us but not brought us across it...” According to the interpretation that He would not have brought us across at all—we would only have seen the sea—it would still have been enough. For the Jewish people saw there the great transformation of sea into dry land, the joining of two worlds that seem unable to coexist. Either you are in a spiritual world or you are in a physical world—make up your mind. But a Jew can live in the physical world and at the same time be connected to the spiritual, with spirituality being central to his life. And conversely, spirituality can permeate his everyday physical life: his eating, his sleeping, his walks, and other physical activities. As the Rambam says, just as a wise person is recognizable by his wisdom, his Torah learning, and his knowledge, so too he is recognizable by the way he eats, walks, conducts his business, and handles all the physical matters of daily life. This connection began at the splitting of the sea. So now we understand that the splitting of the sea was not just a miracle that happened along the way. There the Jewish people saw where

19:31 Torah and mitzvos were going to lead them. What is the goal? What is the direction? What would become new with the giving of the Torah? As is known, before the giving of the Torah there was a decree separating the upper worlds from the lower worlds. As the Midrash says, the upper worlds remained above: “The heavens are Hashem’s heavens, but the earth He has given to mankind.” Two worlds, with no connection between them. There are spiritual, G-dly worlds, and there are physical worlds. Even the holy Patriarchs, who were a chariot for Hakadosh Boruch Hu, observed mitzvos and served Hashem primarily through spiritual things: intentions, cleaving to Hashem, ascents of the soul, and lofty levels of elevation, love, and awe. Avraham served Hashem through love, Yitzchak through awe, and Yaakov through compassion. These were primarily spiritual forms of service. The Patriarchs were shepherds, people who lived out in the fields, removed from the physical concerns of the world. The giving of the Torah, which we are approaching in these parshiyos, was the opposite: to join the spiritual and the physical, to break down the barrier between the two worlds and bring them together. For that to happen, something new was needed. The Jewish people needed the splitting of the sea: Hakadosh Boruch Hu had to break the divide between sea and dry land and join them, to give us the strength to join these two things. So this, in essence, is the message of the Torah’s halachos—and of the Rambam’s book. Look at something remarkable. The Rambam, as we said, wrote a book of halacha, the path of light. He was the first to take material from across the Talmud—as the Rambam himself writes, he gathered from the Midrashim, the Talmud, the Mishnah, the entire Oral Torah, and the writings of the Geonim—and compose a book of halacha alone. It does not even include the explanations, intricate discussions, reasons, and lines of reasoning. The Rambam wrote a book of halacha that might seem as dry as can be—dry land, so to speak: permitted, forbidden, liable, exempt, and so on. That is the Rambam. And yet, what do we find specifically in the Rambam’s book? We find something remarkable in the book of the

21:44 Rambam. He opens his book: “The foundation of foundations and the pillar of wisdom is to know that there is a First Being.” The Rambam begins his book of halachos with the knowledge that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is the only true existence; He brings all beings into existence, and everything in the heavens, on earth, and between them exists only through the truth of His existence. In the very first halacha, the Rambam tells us to know this profound truth about the oneness of Hakadosh Boruch Hu: He is the only true existence above, below, and in between, and everything in the world exists through Him. This is the foundation before all the halachos begin. From there, the Rambam takes us through his fourteen books of halacha, covering all 613 mitzvos in all their details, until we reach the end of the Rambam. After all the halachos, the Rambam concludes with the laws of Moshiach the King—two chapters that tell us the purpose of creation, what we are waiting for, and why a Jew must not only believe in Moshiach’s coming but also anticipate and await it. What, the Rambam tells us, is the goal? The goal is that when Moshiach comes, “there will be neither famine nor war, neither envy nor competition, for good will flow in abundance and all delicacies will be as common as dust. The occupation of the entire world will be solely to know Hashem.” It is that same knowledge of Hashem with which I began the book: “to know that there is a First Being,” that He brings all beings into existence, and that all beings exist only through the truth of His existence. This knowledge of absolute Divine oneness is what will come to be. It is the purpose of all halacha. At the beginning of his book of halacha, the Rambam tells us that halacha is founded on knowledge of Hashem’s existence. From the very first moment, that is its foundation, and it is also its ultimate purpose: that a Jew, through observing the mitzvos and studying and fulfilling the Torah’s halachos... So, as we said, “His are the ways of the world”—

23:46 “Do not read ‘ways’ but ‘halachos’”—the ways of the world. He leads the world toward Hakadosh Boruch Hu. He brings Hakadosh Boruch Hu into the world. He joins the sea and the dry land. He joins the boundless Divine light with the water, the earth, and this physical world—the waters of wisdom and the waters of knowledge. He brings it all down here. How does the Rambam end his book? “Therefore the Jewish people will be great sages and will know hidden things. The occupation of the entire world will be solely to know Hashem, as it is said: ‘For the earth will be filled with the knowledge of Hashem as the waters cover the sea.’” What will happen? What is the point of it all? What is the purpose, the culmination, the goal? What are we awaiting after all the halachos? “The earth will be filled with the knowledge of Hashem as the waters cover the sea.” This is precisely what we have been discussing about the sea and dry land. “The earth will be filled”—the physical earth, the dry land, will be filled with knowledge of Hashem “as the waters cover the sea.” When Moshiach comes, the union of dry land and sea, of the spiritual and the physical, will reach its fullest perfection: Divine light will permeate creation. That is why it is written that before Moshiach’s coming, something similar to the splitting of the sea will happen again. In the well-known haftorah read on the last day of Pesach, it speaks of this: “He will wave His hand over the river with the force of His wind and strike it into seven streams,” and “Hashem will destroy the tongue of the Egyptian sea.” It is written that when Moshiach comes, Hakadosh Boruch Hu will once again split the sea, and also the river. Hakadosh Boruch Hu will divide the Euphrates River into seven parts, and all the Jewish people will cross there from every place of exile. For this, too, conveys the same point. It is not merely a physical event. There is a lofty, profound, and wonderful message here: the purpose of creation, and the union a Jew must bring about. The Jew’s task is to transform the earth so that “the earth will be filled with the knowledge of

25:53 Hashem as the waters cover the sea.” The joining of the physical and the spiritual, of the world and Divine light—we accomplish this by studying halacha and observing the halachos that we are able to observe. This is what each and every one of us needs to do, especially in these days as we approach the great and holy day of Yud Shvat, the day of the Frierdiker Rebbe’s passing and the day on which the Rebbe assumed the leadership. Among the wonderful things the Rebbe taught us is the daily practice he instituted of studying the Rambam’s halachos. Each and every one of us should take this practice upon ourselves, so that not a single day passes without studying the Rambam’s halachos. “His are the ways of the world”: we will prepare ourselves and the entire world for the great revelation of the coming of Moshiach Tzidkeinu. May we merit to see the Rambam’s words fulfilled exactly as he says, and truly see, in the most revealed way, that “the earth will be filled with the knowledge of Hashem as the waters cover the sea.” Amen.