The person who runs away from a prophecy ends up running right into it.  It’s probably the most cliché plot device in all of storytelling. Oedipus Rex. Return of the King. The majority of time travel films. Even in Kung Fu Panda Oogway says, “One often meets his destiny on the road he takes to avoid it.” It’s so overdone, it’s comical. 

A whole genre of comedy thrives on the absurdity of someone stubbornly insisting on their own way, only for it to backfire spectacularly. The more frantic and rushed they are, the funnier it is when they slip on a banana peel. Likewise, the more dignified and pompous a person tries to be, the more hilarious the pie in the face becomes.

This irony of humor is attributed to God’s revelation all over the Tanach. “Then in the future our mouths will fill with laughter.” (Psalm 126:2) Psalm 2:4 refers to the conspiring nations against Hashem, “He Who sits in Heaven will laugh, Hashem will mock them.” In the end of days, those who opposed Hashem and the Jewish people will not only be defeated, they will be the source of their undoing, and ultimately they will play right into Hashem’s hand. We see a preview of this phenomenon in this week’s parsha Beshalach at the splitting of the sea. 

After the 10th and final plague, the Israelites are freed from slavery. However, Hashem purposely guides the Jews in a circuitous path, leading the Egyptians to believe their former subjects have become lost and disoriented. They mount their horses and their chariots and rushed head first into the miraculously split sea. 

The whole set up is hilarious. Who, in their right mind, after suffering ten unexplainably miraculous and devastating plagues, wouldn’t learn their lesson and leave these clearly protected Jews alone? But instead they think, “It’s a great idea to run into that canyon of free standing water! What could go possibly wrong?” 

But the joke goes even deeper. As the Torah describes Egypt’s preparation and pursuit, it repeatedly mentions their horses and chariots. Between verses 14:6 and 14:28, the Torah uses the word chariot no less than 10 times. And that’s before the Song of the Sea which has even more mentions. Those who are familiar with Jewish mysticism and Ezekiel’s prophecy are well aware of the Masay Merkava, or “God’s Chariot.” 

As with all prophetic imagery, God’s Chariot is a metaphor. But essentially (as I understand it, which is quite limited) God’s Chariot is His plan for how history will play out. A chariot is made up of a horse and a rider. To someone unfamiliar with chariots, they might think the horse is the one in charge. The horse is clearly pulling the chariot, and as the horse turns, so does the chariot. But in truth, the person is steering the chariot and the horses follow the driver’s command. The question we have to answer is, in life do we believe we’re the horse or the rider? 

So when the parsha mentions 10 times the chariots of Egypt, it is stressing how stubbornly the Egyptians were trying to take control of the ship so to speak. But when the waters started to fall, they lost control of their horses and the chariots rode towards the tidal wave, not against it as the verse says “…the sea returned to its strength while the Egyptians were fleeing toward it.” (Shemos 14:27)

Egypt’s whole part in the Exodus story was about control. The Jews are becoming too numerous and might betray us? Let’s enslave them. There was a prophecy about a Jewish savior? Throw all the newborn boys into the Nile. Moses demands their freedom? Double their workload. Even as the first plagues happened, Pharaoh had his magicians recreate the miracles so to say, “I can control this too.” 

“Man plans, God laughs.” We’ve all felt this to be true at one point or another. Maybe you’re anxious about a plane flight or a job interview. You make special plans or arrangements to ensure everything is perfect and you can leave on time. But suddenly, there’s a blackout or the President is in town and the most used street in the city is closed. The more we try to take control of life, the more our plans backfire. That’s the joke. 

But when we accept that we are part of something bigger than ourselves and we have an important part in that grand picture, then everything goes much more smoothly. There are still hiccups in life. But instead of getting angry at them, you can learn to laugh at them. Life is a joke. But is the joke on you? Or are you in on it? You just have to see the humor in the delicious ironies that are there to guide you to your destiny. 

Note: This post was inspired by an amazing class taught by Mrs. Esther Wein on TorahAnytime.com. If you want more depth and elucidation about this idea, do yourself a favor and listen to it!