Beshalach - The Red Chiefs
Our attitudes and perspectives matter more than just faith.
Last Shabbat at Kiddush, Professor Adam Ferziger, who is visiting from Israel with his wife, Naomi, for the next few months, shared something fascinating about predicting the outcome of Sunday’s Super Bowl (which Rabbi Gotlib later repeated at Seudah Shlishit.) He pointed out a reference in this week’s parsha that, according to him, supports an Eagles victory.
In Az Yashir, the song at the Sea, there is a verse that says
אָ֤ז נִבְהֲלוּ֙ אַלּוּפֵ֣י אֱד֔וֹם
Then the Chiefs of Edom were confused [Exodus 15:15]
He joked that אָ֤ז (then) refers to the present moment, and אַלּוּפֵ֣י אֱד֔וֹם—literally “the Red Chiefs”—could be interpreted as a reference to the Kansas City Chiefs, whose uniforms are red. In other words, “Then, the Red Chiefs will be lost.” This must be a sign the Eagles will win!
This seems like an even better omen than the last two times the Super Bowl fell right after Parshat Yitro. Everyone was excited about the verse
וָאֶשָּׂא אֶתְכֶם עַל־כַּנְפֵי נְשָׁרִים
I carried you on eagles' wings [Exodus 19:4]
But that verse led to one win (in Super Bowl 52 in 2018) and one loss (in Super Bowl 57 in 2023) for the Eagles. So this year, I’m putting my faith in Beshalach!
This week is called Shabbat Shira, named after the Shira (song) at the sea, the defining moment of the parsha. But what follows is shocking. The Jewish people go from the heights of faith to complete spiritual collapse. Immediately after singing Az Yashir, they start complaining—first about the lack of water, then about the taste of the water, then about the lack of food. When God provides manna, they ignore His command not to save it, and it rots with worms. When commanded to keep Shabbat, they immediately violate it by going out to get the manna from the camp. Then they run out of water again, and this time, their frustration turns violent. Moshe fears for his life, saying, “They are ready to stone me!” The place is named Mei Meriva—the Waters of Conflict. Finally, their faithlessness reaches a breaking point, and Amalek attacks.
The Midrash explains that Amalek’s attack was a direct consequence of the people’s doubts. The Jewish people questioned, “HaYesh Hashem b’kirbenu im ayin?”—“Is God among us or not?” Their spiritual instability made them vulnerable. But how could the same people who had just witnessed the greatest miracles in history — a people who about them it says: וַיַּאֲמִינוּ בַּיהֹוָה וּבְמֹשֶׁה עַבְדּוֹ (They believed in Hashem and Moshe His servant) - see their faith collapse so quickly.
The answer may be embedded in the parsha’s opening words: Vayehi Beshalach Pharaoh—“And it was when Pharaoh sent them out.” According to the Gemara in Megillah 10b, the phrase Vayehi often signals an impending misfortune. But what was so tragic about this moment of Exodus? This should have been the most exhilarating time in history!
The key is in the wording Vayehi Beshalach Pharaoh—the verse credits Pharaoh with sending the Jews out. Where is God in this statement? This suggests that, on some level, the people attributed their freedom not to divine intervention, but to Pharaoh’s decision to let them go. Their excitement over the miracles of Yetziat Mitzrayim distracted them from recognizing this flaw in their perspective. But once they encountered hardship, their underlying doubts surfaced.
No miracle—no matter how grand—can permanently change a person’s perspective if their fundamental attitude remains one of dependence rather than empowerment. A person who believes that Pharaoh, not God, controls their fate will always feel vulnerable, no matter how many times they are saved. If their default mindset is one of defeat, no miracle will ever be enough to sustain them.
A similar story occurs in Sefer Melachim with the prophet Eliyahu at Har HaCarmel. Before an audience of idol-worshippers, Eliyahu calls upon God, and a fire descends from heaven, consuming his offering. At that moment, the people are astonished and declare, “Hashem Hu HaElokim”—“God is the true God!” It seems like a dramatic moment of national repentance.
But when the evil queen Izevel heard about Eliyahu’s triumph, she was unfazed. She sent him a chilling message:
וַתִּשְׁלַח אִיזֶבֶל מַלְאָךְ אֶל־אֵלִיָּהוּ לֵאמֹר כֹּה־יַעֲשׂוּן אֱלֹהִים וְכֹה יוֹסִפוּן כִּי־כָעֵת מָחָר אָשִׂים אֶת־נַפְשְׁךָ כְּנֶפֶשׁ אַחַד מֵהֶם
Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah, saying, “Thus and more may the gods do if by this time tomorrow I have not made you like one of them. [I Kings 19:2]
She was essentially saying, “By this time tomorrow, you will be dead, just like the prophets you defeated.”
Eliyahu, instead of standing tall after his greatest victory, was overwhelmed with despair. He fled and "vayish’al et nafsho lamut"—he asked God to take his life.
My Rosh Yeshiva, Rav Yaakov Weinberg zt”l, would ask: What did Eliyahu expect? That Izevel, the embodiment of idolatry, would suddenly do teshuva? And even if she remained defiant, why did her threat shake him so deeply?
Rav Weinberg offered a brilliant answer: Izevel’s message wasn’t just a death threat—it was a statement about human nature.
You may be untouchable today, a hero of the moment, but tomorrow, no one will remember. Eliyahu realized that she was right. The spiritual high of Har HaCarmel would be fleeting, and the people would inevitably slip back into their old ways.
It wasn’t the fear of Izevel that devastated him; it was the realization that his greatest achievement—the undeniable miracle at Har HaCarmel—would not be enough to create lasting change. The root of the problem wasn’t just idol worship; it was the people’s underlying attitude. Their default mindset was not one of faith in God but of skepticism and resistance. No miracle, no matter how grand, could single-handedly shift a perspective so deeply ingrained. Eliyahu saw that unless the people themselves changed from within, even the most dramatic divine intervention would only be a temporary inspiration, soon overshadowed by their old doubts.
This teaches us that miracles alone don’t determine our faith—our attitude does. The Jewish people saw the greatest wonders imaginable, yet their mindset led them to doubt and despair. Likewise, Eliyahu performed a miracle of biblical proportions, yet the nation quickly reverted to its old ways.
Much is happening in the world today, especially in Israel, and events are unfolding at a rapid pace. At times it is hard to know whether to be optimistic or pessimistic. But one thing is certain: the way we frame events matters. If we approach today’s challenges with fear and defeat, even victories will feel hollow. But if we approach them with confidence, faith, and the right perspective, we may find that the reality is far better than we expected.
And for Eagles fans, here’s the takeaway: If we go into the game with the right attitude, if we don’t let doubt creep in, if we don’t let the alufei Edom—the “Red Chiefs”—intimidate us, then az nivhalu—the Chiefs will be lost. So, show up with confidence, and maybe—just maybe—the signs in Beshalach will hold true.
Shabbat Shalom, and Go Birds!