B’shalach – Stuck In the Middle With You

There’s something fascinating about the structure of this week’s parasha. The third word in this portion, B’shalach, is “Pharaoh,” and the third-to-last word is “Amalek.” Pharaoh represents oppression—he enslaved Israel, killed its firstborn, and attempted to destroy the people entirely. Amalek, on the other hand, was the first to attack Israel with the sword. These two figures are not just historical figures, but symbolic enemies of Israel, their hatred persisting spiritually through the ages. Even though Pharaoh and Amalek no longer walk the earth, their spirit lives on in figures like Haman, Hitler, Hamas, and neo-Nazis. All who oppose the Jewish people carry the legacy of Pharaoh and Amalek.

This use of Pharaoh and Amalek is a literary device called an inclusio. It draws our attention to the narrative between these two names. While the victories over them are crucial moments of God’s protection and deliverance, it’s easy to overlook the long, difficult journey Israel takes in the interim.

The Human Tendency to Forget

What stands out is how quickly our ancestors forgot the miracles they witnessed. After the splitting of the Reed Sea, they soon fell back into complaining about the lack of water, food, and even their longing for Egypt. The Psalmist captures this well, saying, “But they soon forgot His deeds; they would not wait to learn His plan” (Psalm 106:13).

No matter how much God did for Israel—parting the sea, providing quail and manna, making undrinkable water pure—it wasn’t enough. The more God gave, the more Israel acted like spoiled children, singing praises when things went well but complaining when challenges arose.

The lesson here is not to single out Israel’s behavior; anti-Semites have misused this for centuries. It’s actually a reflection of a broader human flaw: the tendency to grow in expectation and entitlement. Groupthink, mob mentality, and self-centeredness often amplify these flaws, making it difficult to work for the community’s greater good. Reforming human character requires more than just divine miracles—it needs consistent education, discipline, sacrifice, and shared values.

The Long Road to Maturity

Perhaps this explains why God led Israel on such a roundabout route out of Egypt.

After Pharaoh freed the people, God didn’t lead them directly toward the land of the Philistines, even though it was closer. God feared that if they encountered war, they might return to Egypt. Instead, He guided them through the wilderness toward the Sea of Reeds (Shemot 13:17-18).

It was along this journey that Israel learned faith, endurance, and reliance on God’s protection. This path also led them to Sinai, where they would receive the Torah, an inheritance for all of Israel. Along this same path, we, as descendants of Israel, adopt practices that allow us to grow into our legacy as bearers of God’s image.

It may feel like a stretch to compare our experiences to those of the patriarchs, matriarchs, and great figures of scripture. It’s easier to relate to their struggles in the wilderness. Like them, we often find ourselves caught between past challenges and future fears. But by staying connected to God and to each other, and by committing to the highest standards of Torah, we can keep moving forward.

Earlier, I mentioned that the third and third-to-last words in the parasha are Pharaoh and Amalek. The “Pharaohs” in our lives continue to pursue us, trying to pull us back to past dysfunctions. The “Amaleks” ahead of us present obstacles that make us fear progress. But if we combine the first two and the last two words of the parasha—Vay’hee b’shalach meedor dor (“And it was that God sent them from generation to generation”)—we are reminded that our journey is part of a much larger, ongoing story. From Egypt, we were sent to sing a song of liberation. And I believe that we are still being sent, with God as our banner, ready to sing a song of triumph as we move forward—no matter how tough the road may be.