“Adonai is my strength and might! Adonai—a Man of War—Adonai is God’s name! Horse and driver hurled and drowned in the Sea of Reeds!”
These words are a summation of the opening lines of the Song of the Sea, a song known by our tradition as the formative moment of liberation and freedom—and yet, the Song of the Sea is ensconced in biblical context as a war epic.
How can we hold these two seemingly opposed ideas—freedom and violence—simultaneously? It would seem that our tradition has been wrestling with this dichotomy for a long, long time, and it offers no easy resolution. The Song of the Sea invites us to rejoice in our liberation, but it also forces us to witness the cost. It is a celebration of justice, but not without bloodshed.
Our ancestors sang with joy after crossing the sea, but the midrash teaches that even as the Israelites danced, the angels were rebuked for trying to do the same—teaching us that, even in moments of joy, we should acknowledge the brokenness in how that joy might have been attained. How could the angels rejoice while God’s creations—the Israelites’ oppressors—were drowning?
This moment captures the tension between necessary defense and the moral burden it carries. Yes, sometimes peace must be protected—even fought for. But Torah calls us never to glorify violence, never to allow power to become the sole language we speak. We are taught to temper the sword with tears, to temper justice with mercy. To carry not only the bludgeoning stick, but also the balm.
We honor our tradition best when we remember that even in our strength, our goal is always peace—and the freedom, prosperity, and liberation of all peoples—yet never at the cost of our safety. Adonai is a warrior, yes—but also a healer, a nurturer, a bringer of justice. May we have the courage to fight when we must—and the wisdom to know when to lay our weapons down and build something better in their place.