When the horses of Pharaoh with his chariots and his chariot drivers went into the sea,
the Lord brought back the waters of the sea upon them; but the Israelites walked through the sea on dry ground.Then the prophet Miriam, Aaron’s sister, took a tambourine in her hand; and all the women went out after her with tambourines and with dancing. And Miriam sang to them: ‘Sing to the Lord, for God has triumphed gloriously;
horse and rider have been thrown into the sea!’ – Exodus 15:19-21
Laura James
I thought they were in a hurry. No time to let bread rise. A hasty departure ahead of a pursuing army that deprives them even of the capacity to make basic preparations for the journey ahead. But someone remembered to bring the percussion instruments.
We will soon find out that this band of refugees, has no water for the journey, and only poorly made bread to eat. They will come to rely on miraculous divine interventions for these simple necessities. Water flowing from a rock struck by Moses’ staff, and manna from heaven that cannot be saved.
All the perils of the wilderness before them and what’s the first thing that comes out of their hastily packed bags? Tambourines.
At first glance, it seems that grabbing musical instruments in place of more practical necessities is irrational, and perhaps even suicidal. But I think there is great wisdom in the impulse to grab a tambourine in the midst of danger. The sort of wisdom that perceives even in the midst of profound fear and dramatic existential threat, we need to preserve our capacity to engage the emotional experiences of our future.
These women’s’ actions are paradoxical . They are preparing for a miracle. Expecting to celebrate. As commentator Avivah Zornberg writes, “They are a set for wonder, carrying the instruments of song with them through the corridors of fear. They have always known that the future is incipient in the present.”
Still, in the eyes of most rational observers, these women brought the wrong things. Food, water, weapons, all make sense… But not tambourines! And yet what do the people find themselves needing? Those same tambourines. They did not need weapons to escape Pharaoh’s army, they would have their food and water provided for them. These women did not grab hold of the objects of fear and scarcity in their haste, but instead imagined with incredible courage the likelihood that there may be a need to dance before too long.
And there was. On the banks of the sea, the community had need to sing and dance, and here were the wise women of Israel, prepared for the miracle, ready to facilitate an unanticipated emotional experience.
And this is what we do, those of us that wander into churches, who hang around in communities of faith. We carry peculiar things. We have a high concentration of people with that rare and beautiful tendency to pick up and hold onto peculiar things. The sort of stuff that others think we are crazy to have around. Strange old stories, hokey hymns, bizarre rituals. The sort of things sensible people can’t imagine needing. And by holding onto all this strange stuff we bear witness to the vast constellation of human experience which outruns our sight and outpaces our imagination. We prepare ourselves for miracles. We stay ready to experience something wholly unexpected.
What do have in our bag for a moment like this? How can we see beyond what we know most immediately? What is packed in your bag so that you are ready for God’s next surprising miracle?
