Parashat Chol Hamoed Pesach: The Singing of Freedom

This Friday, at nightfall, we begin the seventh day of Pesach. 

According to our tradition, it was on this day that the sea split, and the Children of Israel crossed between walls of water: upright, trembling, but free.

And what happened next?

They sang.

That’s why this Shabbat, we read Shirat HaYam, the Song of the Sea, one of the most powerful, emotional passages in our entire tradition.

I’ve always been struck by the force of that moment, and let’s be honest, it’s a striking image for anyone who sees it. Whether in their imagination… or in the movies. But in my own inner film, what stands out is this:

The people have just crossed the sea.

They’re still afraid.

The danger hasn’t fully passed. And yet… they sing.

First, Moshe sings. His words are grand, majestic, solemn.

He sings of the crossing, the redemption, the future.

His is an epic song… the song of a leader carrying the burden of an entire people.

Then Miriam steps forward.

What does she do?

She picks up a tambourine.

She calls to the women.

And she dances.

She doesn’t repeat the whole story.

She doesn’t give a speech.

She simply moves; with her body, with her emotion, with her soul.

While Moshe leads with words, Miriam leads with presence.

And in doing so, she teaches us that there is more than one kind of leadership.

There is the leader who protects, organizes, decides.

And there is the leader who listens, embraces, strengthens — from a place of heart.

Both are essential.

Both are profoundly human.

And to me, this is one of the most beautiful images of love.

Two people who walk together.

Who take care of one another.

Who make decisions… but who also connect with their whole being,

with emotion, passion, movement, with the full heart.

It is no coincidence that on Pesach we read Shir HaShirim , the Song of Songs, a poem of love, attributed to King Solomon, filled with beauty and longing.

The Kabbalists of the Zohar saw in it hidden mystical secrets; a song not only about the people of Israel, but about every soul and its yearning to unite with the Shechinah, the Divine Presence.

Our sages, Chazal, interpreted it as a love story between Israel and God.

Some read it on Shabbat Chol HaMoed Pesach, others at the first Seder. But whenever it is read, it speaks of passion, choice, connection.

It isn’t part of the Talmud.

It’s first mentioned as part of the liturgy in Masechet Sofrim, a post-Talmudic work from the 8th century, preserving ancient customs from Eretz Israel. Later, great halachic codes like the Tur and Shulchan Aruch included it as a custom of both Ashkenazi and Sephardi communities.

But beyond tradition, let’s return to what the text is really about:

Pesach celebrates not just freedom from slavery, but the beginning of a relationship.

A covenant.

A love story.

The Exodus is the courtship. Shavuot, the giving of the Torah, is the wedding. With freedom comes the ability to choose, to create… to love.

Shir HaShirim, with its passionate language, its searching and longing, reminds us what spiritual freedom makes possible: a relationship that is voluntary, deep, and committed.

Today when 59 of our brothers and sisters remain in captivity, when so many homes are still waiting for the return of loving arms, the Song of the Sea… and the Song of Songs… speak more loudly than ever.

Because singing and dancing are not just celebrations. Singing and dancing are resistance.

They mean:

We are still here.

We have not given up.

We still hope.

We still feel.

And we still love; deeply.

May this Shabbat find us with Moshe’s strength…and Miriam’s warmth.

May we continue to sing and dance even when it’s hard to do so.

And may it not be long before we can finally…embrace those who have not yet come home.

Shabbat Shalom Umevorach.

Rabbi Gustavo Geier