“Sing to the LORD, for he has triumphed gloriously;
horse and rider he has thrown into the sea.”
(Exodus 15:21 NRSVue)
So sings Miriam, after the waters of the parted sea crash back onto the dry land that the fleeing Israelites had just crossed, drowning the pursuing Egyptian armies. As recorded, her song is much shorter than that of Moses, which takes up most of the chapter before it. Yet hers seems to release music whereas his seems to define the experience.
God has done a mighty thing. Opponents — even enemies — have been overcome and/or destroyed. There is need to tell of what happened — the Moses instinct — to frame it and relate it in a way that shows its significance and power so others get it too. But there is also need to release praise for what God has done — the Miriam instinct — to let go and allow the simplicity of worship be enough.
Let me pause to say that neither is inherently better or worse than the other; there are no value judgments being issued here — just observations.
I am convinced that there is something about worship that is as natural to us as breathing — that is (in part) the Miriam side of things. I am likewise convinced that staying on that side of the “chapter” in Exodus 15 only deals with half of our selves, and God made our whole selves. The Moses side is important too — we must wrestle and learn to articulate meaning out of God’s involvement in our lives.
I am likewise convinced that as we are being shaped in likeness to Jesus, we will become increasingly uncomfortable with celebrating others coming to harm. How could we not? Living like Jesus means we embody — as did he — turning the other cheek, forgiving those who do harm, and even loving enemies. And yet when God delivers us from those who harm us, praising God for doing so can feel a bit like celebrating that “horse and rider [God] has thrown into the sea.” Perhaps there is room for us to acknowledge that on this side of Glory, there are still those people and forces that position themselves as enemies to God and to us. Perhaps on this side of Glory, there is room for us to acknowledge God’s saving work of triumphing over these entities in our lives — we are praising God for what God has done, after all. Perhaps on this side of Glory, there is room for us to acknowledge that we are still learning to let go of our vindictiveness and selfish need for revenge, and the best way to do that is to bring it to God and leave it in the hands of the only One who can be trusted with it.
And maybe somehow along the way, we can learn to recognize that we who praise God and name victory are not the same as those who deal death and celebrate it with spectacle. May God have mercy, and may we learn to do the same.