Who Shall Cross?
Posted on Mar 21, 2025
TEXT STUDY: Talmud Bavli, Hullin 7a–b
Watch Rabbi Uhrbach lead a webinar that explores this text.
The following text may be thought of as an alternative maggid, the telling of the story of the Exodus,
which forms the center of the Passover seder. Here, the rabbis of the Talmud tell a story set in their
own time, about one of their own, that parallels part of the Exodus—the crossing the Sea of Reeds.
Once, Rabbi Pinhas ben Yair was on his way to redeem captives, and came to the River Genai. He said to it: “Genai, part your waters for me, that I may pass through you.” It said to him: “You are going to do the will of your Maker, and I am going to do the will of my Maker. Regarding you, there is doubt whether you will do it or not. Regarding me, it is certain I will do it.” He said, “If you do not part, I will decree that no waters ever flow through you.” It parted for him.
דרבי פנחס בן יאיר הוה קאזיל לפדיון שבויין פגע ביה
בגינאי נהרא
אמר ליה גינאי חלוק לי מימך ואעבור בך אמר ליה
אתה הולך לעשות רצון קונך ואני הולך לעשות רצון
קוני אתה ספק עושה ספק אי אתה עושה אני ודאי
עושה אמר ליה אם אי אתה חולק גוזרני עליך שלא
יעברו בך מים לעולם חלק ליה
There was also present a certain man who was carrying wheat for the Passover. He [Rabbi Pinhas] said to it: “Part for this man, too, for he is engaged in a mitzvah.” It parted for him.
הוה ההוא גברא דהוה דארי חיטי לפיסחא אמר ליה
חלוק ליה נמי להאי דבמצוה עסיק חלק ליה
There was also an Arab accompanying them. He [Rabbi Pinhas] said to it: “Part for him too, that he not say, ‘Is this how they treat a fellow traveler?’” It parted for him.
הוה ההוא טייעא דלווה בהדייהו אמר ליה חלוק
ליה נמי להאי דלא לימא כך עושים לבני לויה חלק ליה
Rav Yosef said: How great is this man! Greater than Moses and the six hundred thousand [who left Egypt]! As there [at the Red Sea], the waters parted one time. Here three times. But perhaps here too one time [and the river began to flow again only after all three of them passed]. Rather, this man was like [as great as] Moses and the six hundred thousand.
אמר רב יוסף כמה נפיש גברא ממשה ושתין רבוון
דאילו התם חד זימנא והכא תלתא זימנין ודלמא הכא
נמי חדא זימנא אלא כמשה ושתין רבוון
This brief tale is clearly crafted to evoke the Exodus narrative and Passover. Rabbi Pinhas ben Yair’s mission to redeem captives recalls the freeing of the Israelites from slavery, and the parting of the River Genai parallels the parting of the Sea of Reeds. A second traveler carries wheat to make matzah for Passover. A third traveler, an Arab, may represent the erev rav, the Egyptians (or perhaps a group of people from other nations) who left Egypt along with the Israelites. And lest the reader miss the obvious, the Talmud makes the connection to the Exodus explicit by comparing Pinhas ben Yair to Moshe.
What lessons for Passover might this story convey? Some thoughts and questions to consider:
Fulfilling the Will of One’s Maker
This story expresses a belief that all of creation serves God. What is the nature of the river’s challenge to Rabbi Pinhas ben Yair, that while both of them seek to fulfill the will of their Maker, only the river has certainty of doing so?
One possibility is that it refers to the specifics of the mission to redeem captives: the rabbi may or may not be successful in accomplishing what is undoubtedly a holy task.
But another possibility is that it’s a more general statement about humanity’s unique gift and challenge, free will. Seemingly alone within the created world, human beings are not existentially compelled to fulfill our purpose. We are created with the ability and responsibility of choice. We can choose whether to strive to live in response to a Divine demand, or not. If we seek to do so, we must choose the work of discerning what is asked of us, and our discernment may or may not be correct. When we do sense a demand, we must choose whether to respond—whether or not to act on what we believe we’re called to do.
More broadly, while a river can never lose its “riverness” or a tree its “treeness,” in the exercise of our freedom human beings may lose or forfeit our humanity. As Abraham Joshua Heschel famously said, “Man is a messenger who forgot the message.”
- What do you see as the central message of the Passover story? What causes you to forget the message, or fail to deliver it?
- Do you believe in “the will of your Maker”—a larger purpose for you personally, for Jews, and/or for humanity in general? If so, what blocks the path of your fulfilling that mission, whether in particular moments or in the overall arc of your life?
- Philosophers sometimes speak of the distinction between “freedom from” and “freedom to”—that is, freedom as the removal of oppression and restraint, and freedom as a positive opportunity/obligation to exercise agency. Similarly, in the Exodus narrative, God’s demand to Pharaoh is not merely “Let My people go” but “Let My people go that they may serve Me.” What do
you understand that service to involve? What types of “freedom to” are most precious and important to you?
Is This How They Treat a Fellow Traveler?
The river splits not only for both Rabbi Pinhas Ben Yair and the other Jewish journeyer, but at the rabbi’s insistence it splits also for an Arab travelling with them.
- What is Pinhas ben Yair concerned about when he says, “lest he say . . . ?” Does he see this as a practical PR problem only, or is it a deeper concern, related to fulfilling the will of our Maker?
- Who are your “fellow travelers?” What obligations do you owe them and why?
- This story is also told in the Talmud Yerushalmi. The earlier text, which the editors of the Bavli may have used to craft this longer narrative, does not include the Arab traveler or the explicit connection to Passover. In the Yerushalmi, Pinhas ben Yair focuses on ethical treatment of fellow Jews only, while in this story he cares specifically for a non-Jew as well. What is the significance of the inclusion of the non-Jewish traveler specifically in a story crafted to evoke the Exodus?
Genai and Genut
Likely coincidentally, the name of the river, Genai, echoes the rabbinic requirement that the story told at the Passover seder begin with disgrace/genut and conclude with praise. Poetically, the story might suggest that disgrace or shame can prevent the journey toward freedom—like a “river” that must be parted and crossed.
- Why would the rabbis insist that our national story begin with the open expression of our own degradation or shame? What different types of degradation and shame do they envision?
- What happens when we openly acknowledge our experiences and feelings of degradation or shame? How might those stories be freeing? What happens when we are unable or unwilling to acknowledge these experiences or feelings? How might that silence keep us stuck?
