Beshalach 5773 - English

By Rabbi Gustavo Kraselnik

Kol Shearith Israel - Panama

“I myself alone have more memories than those held by all humankind since the beginning of the world.” Thus speaks Irineo Funes, the main character of one of the most famous stories by the Argentinian writer Jorge Luis Borges: “Funes, the Memorious” (1942). 

Bedridden due to an accident, he suffered from hypermnesia, a rare condition that allows the person to remember with great accuracy everything he/she has lived. In the author’s words: “Twice or thrice had he reconstructed an entire day; with not one doubt, but each reconstruction had required an entire day.” 

I remembered young Funes when reading a gripping Midrash that appears associated with the beginning of Parashat Beshalach. According to the Torah, while the children of Israel were departing from Israel, “Moses took with him the bones of Joseph, who had exacted an oath from the children of Israel, saying, ‘God will be sure to take notice of you: then you shall carry up my bones from here with you’” (Ex. 13:19). 

The Talmud sages (Sotah 13a) underline Moses’ generosity at such a time, when he bothered to fulfill the promise made by his ancestor to Joseph on his deathbed: to take his bones with them, in order to bury them in the land of Canaan (Gen. 50:25). 

Furthermore, seeing how succinct is the text in the Torah, they ask themselves, how did Moses know where Joseph was buried? And they answer by including in the story one of the most enigmatic female characters of the entire Bible: Serah, daughter of Asher, Joseph’s brother. 

Moses goes to her for information, and she tells him that the Egyptians laid him to rest in an iron casket, which they threw into the Nile. Moses goes to the Nile, throws a stone, and asks Joseph to come out, so that he may fulfill the promise and not delay the redemption of the people of Israel. According to the Talmud, Joseph’s casket rose to the surface as soon as Moses spoke. 

Who was Serah bat Asher? Why did she know where Joseph’s remains were? 

Zerah bat Asher’s name appears twice in the Torah (Gen. 46:17 and Num. 26:46)) and once in the First Book of Chronicles (7:30). In the three cases she is mentioned in genealogies, which is surprising, since usually, in those long lists of descendants only the males are mentioned, except for very specific exceptions (Dinah, daughter of Jacob; Yocheved and Miriam, mother and sister of Moses; the daughters of Zelophehad, who inherited their father’s land; and of course, the aforementioned Serah bat Asher). 

There is no additional information explaining why Serah is included in the genealogies; however, there’s a not so minor detail, which places her in an outstanding place, at least within the midrash world.

Serah bat Asher (Gen 46:17) is first mentioned among the descendants of Jacob who arrived in Egypt. (There are even some midrashim – for instance, Pirkei of Rabbi Eliezer, chapter 37 – which affirm that Serah was in charge of telling Jacob that his son Joseph was alive.) 

The second time, she is included in the second census carried out forty years after the departure from Egypt (Num. 26:46). In his commentary, Rashi affirms that the reason to mention her name is because she was alive at the time of the census, which means that she lived approximately 400 years!!! 

This extreme longevity seems to invite the sages to grant Serah a role which she will begin to play in the post biblical world, reflected well in the Talmudic story, when she shows Moses the place to find Joseph’s bones. In this story and in other midrashic creations, Serah becomes a source of wisdom and experience, and an unavoidable model of collective memory. She is the voice that amalgamates knowledge and tradition, allowing the new generations to learn about the past, so as to project the continuity of shared identity. 

Joseph Yerushalmi, Judeo-American historian (died December 8, 2009), devotes his wonderful book “Zachor” (Remember) to establish a clear difference between Jewish history (the study of events) and Jewish memory (the meaning given to these events). In Yerushalmi’s opinion, up to modern times, the Jewish people favored the development of its collective memory, at the expense of historiography (writing of history). 

Near the end of the book, Yerushalmi evokes the figure of Funes the Memorious, as a metaphor of Jewish modern historiography (where information abounds, but with not much meaning). Perhaps we may place Serah bat Asher, woman of low profile and timely word, at the antipodes, symbolizing the need and desire to preserve collective memory, in order to pass it on to the next generations. 

Shabbat Shalom, 

Gustavo