The prophetess Miriam has breathed her last breath; how shall we eulogise the prophetess Miriam?
Miriam was a third of the triumvirate of siblings who led the people Israel through the wilderness. She brought with her the gifts of song, dance, vision, righteous anger, hydration, healing and hope.
As a young child, back in Egypt, Miriam convinced her father, Amram, that there was a future for the enslaved Israelites. When Amram refused to have sex with Miriam’s mother, Yocheved, because he couldn’t bear to bring another child into this broken world, Miriam convinced Amram to return to his wife. Miriam foresaw that Yocheved would give birth to Moses, the man who would bring about the redemption of the Israelites. After Moses’s birth, Miriam negotiated a situation in which Pharaoh’s daughter would raise Moses as her own child, but he would be nursed by his birth mother, Yocheved.
After the liberation of the Israelites, Miriam knew exactly what her people needed. It was Moses who parted the Sea of Reeds, who allowed the people to escape through a path of dry land, and then closed the Sea over the heads of the Egyptian soldiers. But it was Miriam who looked around at her people and saw them in shock. They had experienced years of slavery; freedom felt foreign to their broken bodies. They had witnessed the devastation of their oppressors at the hands of the God who would become their God. They were tense, frightened, overwhelmed, unsure of what to do with themselves. So, Miriam grabbed her frame drum and commanded them, “Shiru!” – “Sing!” She led the people in a call and response chant, making sure everyone could participate. The song was a song of rage and gratitude, naming the mixture of conflicting emotions in the hearts of her people. She called them to dance in circles, inviting them to experience freedom with their whole bodies.
As the Israelites wandered in the desert, Miriam channelled her rebellious spirit for justice. She noticed how her brother, Moses, was consumed by his work, leaving little time for his wife, Tzipporah. She confided in her brother, Aaron, about Moses’s abandonment of his wife. Miriam also dared to wonder aloud, “Has God not spoken through us as well?” Her cry was the cry of every woman throughout history, demanding a place at the table, calling out for her contributions to be recognised. For these speech acts, God punished Miriam with tzara’at, a disease that made her skin flaky and white; she was exiled from the camp for seven days. But the people saw the injustice of God’s behaviour and refused to journey onwards without her. They had learned righteous rebellion at the feet of Miriam herself. God had no choice but to soften God’s stance; God took it upon God’s self to tend to Miriam in her illness. Once she was healed, the people journeyed onwards.
After Miriam’s death, the people of Israel were without water. They say that this is because of the magical well that followed Miriam throughout the desert. Miriam sustained her people through the waters of her well; with the death of Miriam the well, too, died.
How did the people eulogise Miriam? In her absence, they continued her work. Without Miriam’s well, the people took it upon themselves to dig their own well. As they dug, they sang a song: “Rise up, O Well, sing to her!” Miriam had not only given water to her people, but also the gift of communal song. She had shown them that just as water was nourishment for the body, music was nourishment for the soul. The people of Israel understood that the best way to honour their beloved prophetess was to carry on her legacy through their own behaviour. She was no longer there to fill their mouths with water, so they filled their own mouths with water. She was no longer there to fill their mouths with song, so they filled their own mouths with song.
How shall we eulogise the prophetess Miriam? Not only by telling her story, but by continuing to embody her gifts. Let us offer water to those who need it. Let us raise our voices in song. Let us move our bodies to the beat, each of us dancing in our own way. Let us raise our voices in righteous rebellion. Let us remind ourselves that a future exists beyond the reality in which we find ourselves; may we always live as though another world were possible.
Yael Tischler, LBC rabbinical student
The views expressed in this D’var Torah do not necessarily reflect the position of Leo Baeck College.