The blessing after the Shema concludes with the recognition of G-d as “Redeemer of Israel.” It references the exodus from Egypt as the archetypal redemption, and goes into great detail about how, exactly, that redemption took place: “You rescued us from Egypt; You redeemed us from the house of bondage. The firstborn of the Egyptians were slain; our firstborn were saved. You split the waters of the sea…etc., etc.”
Why all the detail? Because the depictions of G-d in this prayer are profoundly contradictory. Six times (in the Sephardic version, seven times), the prayer states: “It is true that…”. Among these declarations is the statement: “It is true that You are Lord of Your people, their defender and mighty King.” This is the G-d in history, who intervenes directly in human affairs. But the very next verse states, “You are the first and You are the last.” In other words, You are the G-d who transcends time, who stands above history.
Which serves to remind us, as Elie Wiesel has taught, that contradictions are a sign of normality. As hard as it may be to wrap our heads around, G-d is the G-d of the universe in all its vastness, and at the same time our G-d, directly involved in our lives.
And that carries with it enormous responsibility. As the great theologian Emil Fackenheim has pointed out, “…as G-d enters into history an ominous threat makes its appearance—the fact that men can frustrate the divine purpose. ‘When ye are not My people, I am, as it were, not G-d.’ What if His people, every one of them, [i.e., us] were to refuse to be His people?” Then we would not be. And G-d would not be.
This daring theology comes to expression in the most surprising but unassuming way—in a children’s song we all know: am yisrael chai. “The people of Israel lives.” As Fackenheim reminds us, that song has a second verse, linked, as it turns out, linked intimately, with the first: “od avinu chai” “Our [Divine] Father still lives.”
Why be Jewish? Because the existence of G-d in the world depends on us.