Imagine what it must have been like for our ancestors. Having known nothing but slavery and servitude to Pharaoh, having never made a decision for themselves, to flee in the dead of night at Moses’ instruction. No time to pack, no time to think. They grab what they can and go. One foot in front of the other, they march out of the mud pits of Egypt and toward freedom. Realizing what has happened, Pharaoh leaps to action. He is on the move with his army in pursuit. The chase is on as our weary ancestors come to the Sea of Reeds—a dead end—Pharaoh’s men are closing in. Just when it looks like their brief encounter with freedom will come to an end, something miraculous happens. Moses stands on the shore of the sea, raises his staff, and the waters part. Awestruck, our ancestors keep walking toward freedom—right across the bottom of the seafloor. Now that’s what I call a miracle! Too bad it doesn’t work like that anymore. Read moreEach week, a member of the clergy offers their personal perspective on a topic of their choice, such as the week's Torah portion, a Jewish holiday, ritual, custom, or history.