Throughout the Exodus event, at significant points in their journey of faith, the ancient Hebrews stopped & intentionally thought of ways in which they could pass their story on to future generations – how they could keep the experience, or at least the memory of the experience, alive.
That is the meaning behind an old Hasidic tale told of the rabbi Baal Shem, who when faced with a significant task, would go to a certain place in the woods, light a fire and meditate in prayer, and what he had set out to perform was done.
When a generation later, another rabbi was faced with the same task, he would go to the same place in the woods and say: “I can no longer light the fire, but I can still speak the prayers,” and what he wanted done became reality.
Again, a generation later, another rabbi had to perform this task. And he too went into the woods and said: “We can no longer light the fire, nor do we know the meditations belonging to the prayers, but we do know the place in the woods to which it all belongs, and that must be sufficient,” and sufficient it was.
But when another generation had passed and another rabbi, three times removed from the original experience, had the same task, he said: “We cannot light the fire, we cannot speak the prayers, we do not know the place, but we can tell the story of how it was done”. And… the story which he told had the same effect as the actions of the other three.
Throughout the Exodus event, at significant points, Israel stopped, reflected and meditated on their experience of God’s gracious deliverance, and sought ways to commit to memory the story.
When the ancient Hebrews painted their doorposts and lintels with the blood of the sacrificed lambs, saving them from the angel of death which “passed-over,” we read:
“And when you come to the land which the Lord will give you, as He has promised, you shall keep this observance. And when your children say to you, ‘What do you mean by this observance?’ You shall say…” and the story was told.
On the night of the Passover Seder, it is the youngest child who asks: “Why is this night different from all other nights?” And the story is told.
This way of instruction does not assume that the child must find the answers in his or her own experience. Children are not expected to do this in Israel because truth is not about individual, private conjurings or feelings. The secular world, which has taught us, has taught us well, so that we assume that what each of us feels or thinks is true.
The biblical understanding of education believes that truth – that which is really real, that which is ultimately important in life – lies outside the individual. Biblical education is not primarily about self-actualization, but rather about revelation & disclosure.
The Church, as a story-telling community of faith, from generation to generation, tells the old, old stories of Jesus and His love; and, as with the Hasidic tale, the story has the same effect, is as real, as the experience itself.
