In Shirat Hayam, the jubilant song of praise sung by Bnei Yisrael after the miracle of the splitting of the sea, they proclaim, “U’v’ruach apecha ne’ermu mayim” (Shemot 15:8), which is commonly interpreted as, “And with the breath of Your nostrils, the waters were heaped.” As several commentators (including Rashi, Ibn Ezra, and Seforno) explain, the word “ne’ermu” stems from the word “areima,” which means “pile” or “heap,” as in the phrase “areimat chittim” – “pile of wheat” (Shir Hashirim 7:3). The waters of the sea are described here as having been transformed into two tall “piles,” forming a path of dry land through which Bnei Yisrael were then able to safely cross.
Targum Onkelos, however, translates the word “ne’ermu” as “chakimu” – “were intelligent,” or “sly.” According to the Targum, the word “ne’ermu” is associated with the word “arum,” which is used, for example, to describe the sly, conniving snake in Gan Eden (“V’ha’nachash haya arum,” Bereishit 3:1). The waters were “cunning” in the way they split to form a dry path through which Benei Yisrael could cross. Chizkuni explains that the Targum’s translation means the waters of the sea were “wise” in that they drowned the Egyptians. The waters receded at the right time to allow Bnei Yisrael to cross and then fell back into place when the time came to drown the Egyptians.
It should be noted, however, that the word “ne’ermu” appears in the context of the sea’s initial splitting, when it miraculously formed two “walls” around Bnei Yisrael. In contrast, the drowning of the Egyptians is described only several verses later (10). Therefore, we might assume that if Targum Onkelos translates “ne’ermu” as a reference to wisdom and cunning, this description relates specifically to the waters’ splitting, and not to their drowning of the Egyptians.
Perhaps, the “wisdom” of the waters was the wisdom to discontinue one’s normal course of action. Since the time of the world’s creation, the ocean’s waters had remained in place in their basin, but now the time came for them to do something drastically different, to rise to either side in order to form dry land. It takes a degree of wisdom and intuition to make drastic changes, to discontinue something to which we have grown accustomed, when the need arises. Like the waters of the sea, we all have familiar habits and routines that have become second nature. There is a certain level of intelligence required to recognize when we must act differently and reverse our normal, habitual course of action. While habits and routines are, of course, vitally important for our stability and productivity, there are also times when, like the waters of the sea, we need to adjust our course due to extenuating circumstances. The “wisdom” of the waters is the wisdom to know when we need to follow our usual routine and when we need to disrupt it and do something different in light of new realities.
