October 2004 Crossing Jordan By Rabbi Alvin Kass One of the most dramatic episodes in all of Biblical literature takes place in the third chapter of the Book of Joshua. The Israelites stand on the banks of the Jordan River in preparation for their entrance into the Promised Land. It is the climax of forty years of wandering in the desert, during which time an entire generation has lived and died. But there is no bridge, and the Jews are confounded by the challenge of crossing the waters. Joshua tells the priests to carry the Holy Ark upon their shoulders with the rest of the people queuing up behind them. When the priests step into the river, the waters miraculously split asunder and the Israelites are able to march dry shod to the other side. There has long been a debate among Biblical commentators as to whether that episode took place exactly as described and should be understood literally. Or whether modern, scientific, and rationalistic students of the Bible must discount the historical character of such tales. Regardless of how you solve that controversy, there is no question that the principal significance of the event is symbolic. The priests represent the children of Israel; the waters of the Jordan stand for the trials and tribulations of human existence; while the ark embodies our hope, faith, and trust in God. What we are being told, therefore, is that if people will only face the troubles and difficulties of life directly, even as the Israelites stepped fearlessly into the Jordan, while holding on to their religious principles, then somehow, mysteriously, incomprehensibly, and inexplicably they will manage to reach safety unscathed and untouched. Can this be proved? Hardly. But there is abundant testimony down through the ages of people who managed to transcend the most arduous trials of life by clinging to the teachings of their religious faith. Surely this must have happened to David when he wrote: "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not wantÉthough I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I shall fear no evil for Thou art with me." Quite similarly, Jeremiah proclaimed: "The Lord is my strength and my fortress; my refuge on the day of my affliction." I know many a patient in the hospital, many a bereaved child, many a persecuted political subject, and many a frustrated artist who found in religious faith a cure for afflictions of mind and soul. Some people regard religion as excess baggage, a useless drain on their energy, time and means. To adhere to the rules of our faith is for such individuals to fetter themselves with burdens that interfere with the acquisition of wealth and the pursuit of pleasure. In truth, religion doesn't withhold anything from us that is really beneficial to us and necessary for our well-being. On the contrary, it protects us from harmful and noxious influences in our surroundings. The religious Jew is actually very happy, and he knows how easy it is to fulfill the Biblical injunction: "Serve the Lord with joy!" The key is holding on to our religion as fervently as the priests held on to the Holy Ark when they crossed the Jordan River. Then you will be able to distinguish between true happiness and its spurious manifestations. You will likewise achieve comfort in the face of sadness, power when confronted by the unknown, and fortitude in response to disappointment and disillusionment. Nothing can vanquish the unconquerable faith and will of the religious soul. Nothing can obstruct the forward thrust of the believing human being. If we hold on tight to the Aron Hakodesh wherever the vagaries of human existence may bring us, we shall eventually find that refuge which God has promised to those who "are near to Him and call upon His name in truth."