Dvar Tefillah: Mi Chamocha

I looked at the context in liturgy and in Tanakh (Shmot 15, Shirat Hayam), both of which make it clear that this cry is a cry of awe about God's power, in its reflection in the drowning of the Egyptians in the Sea of Reeds. I've been thinking about the issue of what God does to the Egyptians through the plagues (and especially in hardening Pharaoh's heart to extend the plagues). So my first reaction is disappointment -- "Ugh, why can't this cry of awe just be an uncomplicated celebration of God's power, instead of being a celebration of God's violence?" But then looking at the text of Mi Chamocha itself, I can see that the words itself reflect this complicatedness -- נורא clearly emphasizes the fearfulness, and even נאדר and עושה פלא emphasize God's scary, unfathomable, unbearably radiant aspects. In that sense, it actually feels less complicated to me to cry out in awe in response to this incredible act of violence, because the words of this cry truly express awe -- not celebration, but fear and wonder and perhaps some doubt about whether it's safe to be in relationship with a God like this one.

Which brings up the other incredible thing about this text, which is the inclusion of the word אלים, the clear idea that this is a comparison between the God of Israel and all the other gods. This brings to mind ideas about who the characters are in the Shmot narrative, which is an idea I've been obsessed with this entire semester. If the Exodus narrative is a contest of power between Pharaoh and God, there is the question of whether this is a human vs. divine encounter, or whether it's more accurate to understand this as an encounter between the Egyptian divine and the Israelite divine. It seems like Mi Chamocha points clearly to the idea that the Exodus narrative is an encounter between the Israelite divine and the Egyptian divine -- and that this outcry is a moment in which the Israelites feel that their divinity has won the contest.

In most davennen spaces that I spend time in, folks don't relate to (or don't want to relate to) the idea of a warlike God who is championing our people by conquering the gods of other peoples. It may be worthwhile to try to reinhabit this idea in order to explore what's at stake in the tension between universalism and particularism (and perhaps to uncover and work honestly with repressed particularist tendencies). For now, though, I'm more interested in the first aspect -- the God who is unbearably radiant and a bit dangerous. Perhaps we can identify experiences in which we receive some great and unexpected benefit, but which also have painful consequences for other people (for example, if we get a job we really wanted, and perhaps we even know some of the other people who applied for the job and who are now really disappointed). I can see Mi Chamocha as a liturgical text that gives voice to that experience of simultaneous gratitude and ambivalence/צער -- what is this world in which sometimes wonderful things come at a high price?

In light of that, I can understand the text in this way:

מי כמכה באלים ה' מי כמכה נאדר בקדש נורא תהילות עושה פלא

God, what kind of Divinity are You and how does that shape the possibilities of our world? Why is Your holiness so painfully exquisite? Is Your awesomeness always praiseworthy? Why are Your deeds sometimes so unfathomable?