This Sabbath is known as Shabbat Shirah—the Sabbath of the Song—because the Torah portion Beshalach contains one of the most consequential moments in Jewish history: Shirat HaYam, the Song of the Sea.
The crossing of the Sea of Reeds is not merely a miracle story; it is the moment Israel ceases to be a collection of freed slaves and becomes a people. God does not simply rescue Israel from Egypt—He places them in an impossible position and then acts decisively within it. Trapped between the sea and Pharaoh’s army, Israel learns, all at once, what it means to trust, to move forward, and to be delivered.
For this reason, when the Song of the Sea is read, the congregation rises. This is not liturgical politeness; it is recognition. The song marks the first collective response of Israel to God—not a command, not a law, but praise that erupts spontaneously from survival. It begins with ashirah—“I will sing”—a declaration of intention, not obligation.
The tradition remembers that God did not lead Israel by the shortest route to Canaan. He led them toward Yam Suf deliberately, even directing them to encamp near Baal-Tzefon, an Egyptian idol left standing as bait. Pharaoh is drawn back into pursuit, convinced that Israel is lost and that Israel’s God has limits. He is wrong.
When the Egyptian cavalry closes in, the Pillar of Cloud moves to stand between oppressor and people. Darkness falls on Egypt; light remains with Israel. Moses raises his staff. An east wind blows through the night, and the sea divides—walls of water to the right and left—and Israel walks through.
By morning, Israel stands safely on the far shore. The cloud lifts. Egypt follows—and collapses under its own violence. The ground turns to mud, chariot wheels seize, and the power that once enslaved Israel is swallowed whole. There are no survivors. The threat is finished.
Only then does the song come.
Moses sings. Miriam dances. The people respond together: “Sing to the LORD, for He has triumphed gloriously; horse and rider He has thrown into the sea.” Fear gives way to joy, memory replaces terror, and praise becomes the people’s first shared act of freedom.
This is why the song is remembered daily in prayer, why it is sung on the seventh day of Passover, and why Shabbat Shirah still matters. The Song of the Sea is not nostalgia—it is testimony. It reminds us that redemption often comes only after the road narrows, the escape vanishes, and the sea stands in front of us.
And that when the moment comes, the only faithful response is to sing.
