Unity. If we could only put aside our differences and come together humanity could move mountains. Revolutions topple empires. If America spent even half of what it does on the NFL, Marvel movies, and designer footwear, worldwide hunger could be eradicated overnight. But as powerful as unity is, it’s not always a good thing. Between this week’s parsha Yisro and last week’s parsha Beshalach, the Torah makes a bold juxtaposition to demonstrate a profound difference between two types of unity. 

In Beshalach, the Israelites crossed the Yam Suf on dry land as split waters stood as walls on either side. Pharaoh’s army charged after them with a vengeance. Why? They had just suffered a year of earth-shattering plagues which ravaged their nation and slew their firstborns. Now they’re going to follow those same people into the most miraculous phenomenon ever witnessed? Even if they caught the Israelites, there’s no good outcome waiting for them. But they charged in anyway.

Just before the sea splits, the Israelites see the Egyptians charging after them. The text describes the scene. “Pharaoh drew near, and the children of Israel lifted up their eyes, and behold! The Egyptians were advancing after them.” (Shemos 14:10) But in the Hebrew there’s something odd in the grammar.  “Advancing after them.” The Hebrew word for advancing is in the singular, while “after them” is in the plural. Rashi notes the conjugation irregularity and says “b’lev echad, k’eish echad,” meaning “with one heart, they were like one man.” The Torah is telling us that when unity comes from emotion it can be dangerously illogical. This is the unity of a riot, a mob, the proverbial village with torches and pitchforks. That sort of unity is easy to get swept up in and a dissenting voice of logic is likely to be ignored, if not targeted. That’s how a mob of soldiers can find themselves rushing into a crystal clear death trap without a second thought. 

Then we have the opposite form of unity in this week’s parsha. Just before the Israelites experience Hashem’s revelation at Sinai, they prepare for the most extraordinary of events. Shemos 19:2 reads, “​​They journeyed from Rephidim, and they arrived in the desert of Sinai, and they encamped in the desert, and Israel encamped there opposite the mountain.” Once again Rashi points out the same grammatical issue on the phrase, “Israel encamped there.” Encamped is in the singular. But here Rashi says, “k’eish echad, b’lev echad.” “Like one man, they were with one heart.” What difference does the order switch make? The unifying factor now isn’t emotion, it is purpose, shared goals, and ideas. When unity comes from reason and aspirations the passion can follow (with one heart) and that can become a movement. The unity serves the purpose which makes participants bigger. In the case of the Israelites, their unity brought the Torah into the world and elevated beyond the limits of human potential. 

We live in a world where one kind of unity clearly dominates the discourse. Fear and anger shape the news, politics, and social media. Genuine understanding has become almost impossible. But unity does not mean unanimity, nor does it require majority rule. The Or HaChaim, commenting on Yisro, warning that Torah scholars who study alone “shall become fools” (Ta’anit 7a). Wisdom emerges only when people gather, challenge one another, sharpen each other’s thinking, and show one another a welcoming face. The unity that is driven by emotions such as fear, outrage, or even pleasure, is powerful, but volatile. It demands conformity, punishes dissent, and easily spirals out of control.

Then there is the other kind of unity: one rooted in shared purpose rather than viral panic. It does not erase disagreement; it depends on it. When people come together to pursue truth, engaging opposing perspectives rather than silencing them, they break out of the echo chamber and stay focused on the goal while gaining a deeper understanding of it. Only this second kind of unity can lead to extraordinary achievement, fulfilling a potential that exists nowhere else. With it we can reach heights that are truly greater than the sum of our parts.