Written for Kol Zimrah’s Feb 2nd, 2007, Tu’Bishvat minyan:

Last week’s parsha featured the ten miracles and the ten doubts of the Israelites as they flee Egypt for the Holy Land. Ten times, the Israelites lose faith in Moses and God and ten times they return to God and Moses’ leadership after an appropriate miracle.

The people say to Moses, “Dude, we’re gonna die!” So Moses says to God, “Dude, gimme a trick!” And God says to Moses, “Here, try this.” Moses then turns to the people and displays a miracle, “Ta dah!” And the people say, “Whew, Moses that was close. We almost lost faith in you there. Thanks for the manna/water/victory/pillar of fire.”

Can I say that this is really stupid? We can all see it. This level of faith endurance is pretty shallow, this reliance on miracles. And I want to say that I don’t need miracles to be faithful. As a post-modern, post-Enlightenment, seriously spiritual but definitely down to earth guy, I’m not a fan of big miracles. When I set out to write this d’var, I was ready to be very condemnatory. But when I sat down to write this d’var, recent live events prevented me from being so:

My friend, due to a prior unrelated surgery, had a damaged stomach. The nerves operating her stomach had been severed and thus the doctors opted to disconnect it from her system. Your stomach is the size of your fist–all she had remaining were about two knuckles worth. This meant that in order to get enough nutrients, she ate all the time. She began taking intravaneous food in her arm, then through a special catheder into her chest, then directly into her heart.

She slipped from 140 lbs to 120. Her liver stopped working. She slipped to 100 lbs. Her kidneys ceased too. She was bloated and a simple cold would make her vomit all night. She underwent a score of surgeries in a year. She slipped from 100 lbs to 90 lbs to 80 lbs. She and I shared what we thought could be our last conversation together.

Finally at great risk and against the confidence of her doctors she underwent one final surgery–-and lo and behold what they discovered that when her intestines were put back inside her after her initial stomach surgery, a couple sections were kinked-–just a simple twist! They unkinked it, cut away former scar tissue, sewed her up and gave her permission to eat what she wants and go rock climbing in eight weeks.

I want to believe that I don’t need miracles to be faithful. But in those moments with my friend, the sad and the joyous, it was impossible to not feel bewildered by the mechanisms of my innards. It is weird to think that God’s voice is not only in still and silent moments but also in the gurglings of your tummy. In the farts and burps, the sniffles, squeaks, creaks, pops and unflattering slurps of your body–your awe-inspiring, always-speaking-to-you, miraculous body.

We cannot rely on fireworks for our inspiration, on a whizbang faith of oohs and ahhs, because as soon as there aren’t any, what’s left? It’s hard in a town of Blackberrys and cellphones and perpetual advertising to find those soft, quiet moments to focus on small miracles. And for all that I want to look down on the Israelites in this parsha for their lack of faith endurance, I am not so holy myself that I do not need to be reminded about the majesty of the Divine Creator through miracles. In this parsha is the Mi Chamocha–which Miriam sings after the Egyptians are drowned in the sea–but when you sing it next, please, take a second to think of the miracles that really matter.

I leave you with just this prayer, the standard bathroom prayer, which has a whole new meaning in light of this story:

“Blessed are You, Hashem, our G-d, King of the universe, Who formed man with wisdom and created within him many openings and many hollows (cavities). It is obvious and known before Your Throne of Glory that if but one of them were to be ruptured or if one of them were to be blocked it would be impossible to survive and to stand before You (even for a short period of time). Blessed are You, Hashem, Who heals all flesh and acts wonderously.”