Shemot

Shemot - Angela Gluck 

Angela Gluck teaches young people and adults at the London Jewish Cultural Centre and across the Jewish community, and has authored about 40 books on religion, history and education. She dedicates this 'Taste' to the wise and wonderful students in her 'Shivim Panim' class, who are studying the Book of Shemot (Exodus) with her this year and from whom she learns a lot.

From Charlton Heston in The Ten Commandments to Steven Spielberg's The Prince of Egypt, parshat Shemot is the stuff that Hollywood is made of, bursting as it does with drama and dynamism from start to finish. And it begins and ends in Egypt, with a sojourn to Midian in between. We know it well: the rescue of a certain Hebrew baby, his dual identity, his rage at injustice, his flight, his marriage to the Midianite Tzipporah and the birth of their son, his burning bush experience with the revelation of the divine name and the mission to "let my people go..." It's with great reluctance that Moshe accepts his brief but accept it he does.

What we know less well is a mysterious episode during Moshe's return to Egypt that occupies just three verses (Shemot 4: 24-26):

At a stopover on the way, God encountered him and sought his death. Tzipporah took a flint and cut off her son's foreskin, and touched his leg, saying, "You're bridegroom of bloods to me." When he let him alone, she said, "A bridegroom of bloods because of the circumcisions."

Moshe has just been reminded of his mission, then this happens and then the narrative returns to the 'big story', with God telling Aaron to help.

Two things are immediately striking about this passage. First, it seems to be in brackets, as some sort of aside. It can be exciting, as well as frustrating, when the Torah does that: just when we're comfortable with the story-line and the journey we're on - and we’re confident we get it - we're suddenly and unexpectedly taken somewhere else. It's tempting to see the position of this incident as an afterthought, a text misplaced. Why aren't we going straight to Egypt and capitalising on the momentum that's been created to confront Pharaoh? And in our story-journey, why are we being slowed down and stopping over? Here, the Torah's power to startle and to challenge - to discomfort - is perhaps at its very best.

Secondly - and maybe more importantly - what's going on here? Tzipporah is unequivocally identified, though motives for her behaviour are far from clear. But what of the other players? Who's 'he'? And are they all the same 'he'? Whose leg does Tzipporah touch - and why? Does she have two bridegrooms? Why is it "damim" (literally, bloods) when 'dam' (blood) would do? And is she performing more than one circumcision? Perhaps most discomforting of all: surely God isn't trying to kill Moshe, the one tasked with a sacred mission?

Though ancient and medieval commentators paid relatively little attention to this passage, their responses show that they, too, grappled with the enigmas and the challenges of interpretation. It is one of the Torah texts that seems most open to diverse interpretations.

For the modern commentator Nahum Sarna, the text is not at all parenthetical but rather well placed. He notes that the birth of the first-born is reported (4: 22-23) just before this event and is followed by circumcision here. Later, in Egypt, there will be a reference to circumcision in the context of Passover (12: 48) and another to the first-born (13:1).

We could say that circumcision is sandwiched between first-born sons - Moshe's and all the Hebrews' - and that the juxtaposition highlights the connections between them. In both cases, circumcision is linked with avoiding disaster and death. Blood is life, as well as death. As such, this event pre-echoes the liberation of the Hebrews and is indeed part of the 'big story'.

Other contemporary commentators point to Tzipporah as another female saviour in Moshe's life, following the midwives, his mother, his sister and Pharoah's daughter. At some level, Tzipporah realises that circumcision is required - and she's right. We've already seen Moshe's vulnerability and perhaps here the Torah is telling us that Moshe is so low in spirits, so threatened by the pressure of his momentous task that he feels as though God wants his death. Tzipporah, though, knows that she must be strong, must act decisively, to save life. Through "damim" - bloods - she is speaking not only of her child's circumcision but also of the generations that will follow and will also be brought into the covenant.

But why does she say it twice, almost identically? Perhaps she's speaking to both Moshe and their son. Moshe is already a bridegroom and this act names and re-enacts the covenant of their marriage. With her son, she is affirming his belonging to the people of the covenant and pre-echoing the covenant of love into which he will enter as a man. They are both bridegrooms of the Torah and also of their wives.  

But Tzipporah's knowing that she needs to do this - and saying what she's doing - remains an enigma. She is not a Hebrew but a Midianite. Rabbi Tzvi Dov Kantopsky suggests that she’s reminding Moshe of his identity as a Hebrew and as a saviour, and of her commitment to him and to his people. It's as if she is saying, "My bridegroom, who is part of the great eternal covenant, will now go to the community of Israel and redeem them, that they may realise the fulfilment of their historic mission."

One of the great privileges of my life is teaching Jews who are rediscovering or reclaiming their Jewish heritage, and those who wish to enter the covenant of the Jewish people. There are Jews whose Judaism has been 'dead' to them and whose 'new Jew' partner is coming to it with the freshness of a first-born, breathing new life into it or even giving it birth. It is an act of redemption, and I am proud and pleased to have met 'Tzipporah' many times.