BS"D

ENSLAVEMENT AND ENNOBLEMENT: PESACH I

Shira Smiles shiur 2025/5785

Adapted by Channie Koplowitz Stein

The Passover Seder is a ritual filled with contradictions that give rise to questions beginning before the traditional Four Questions and extending far beyond them As Rabbi Zucker notes, we begin with pointing to the matzah and calling it "the bread of affliction/the poor man's bread." Yet we continue by inviting others to join us in a sumptuous feast fit for kings and the wine that accompanies such a meal. The men come wearing a kittel, reminding them of death while also symbolic of the wedding of Kllal Yisroel to Hakodosh Boruch Hu. And the women come bedecked in ornaments, a reminder of the many mitzvoth and customs that adorn our souls on the Seder night.

The incongruities continue with the ritual platter containing the symbolic foods necessary for conducting the Seder, notes Rabbi Kluger in Bni Bechori Yisroel. The egg reminds us of both the Festival Sacrifice, and of the destruction of our Holy Temple on Tisha B"Av. The charoset reminds us of the mortar we used for building Pharaoh's storehouses while also alluding to the women who gave birth "under the apple tree" to evade the murderous Egyptian eyes. Both the karpas and the salt water, which on the surface seem to be an appetizer with dips [think hummus with challah and cut up veggies on the Shabbos table] hint at luxury, כרפס can also be divided into "ס andפרך , the 600,000 who were forced into hard labor, and the salt water, here used for dipping, certainly represents the bitter tears we shed during our enslavement.

Even the wine we drink, associated with celebration, is traditionally red to remind us of the blood of the Jewish children killed for Pharaoh's bath, writes Rabbi Matityahu Salomon zt”l, the Matnas Chaim. Even the bitter marror has a positive aspect, for the overwhelmingly compounded suffering shortened the term of that suffering.

Rabbi Mirsky quoting the Abarbanel zt”l notes that the structure of the Mah Nishtanoh highlights this dichotomy. Although we refer to this passage as " The Four Questions," it is actually one question with four parts: why do we have symbols of both freedom and slavery here? And the very first sentence of the response answers this question: "We were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt and Hashem took us out of there with a mighty hand..." So it seems we are focused on both slavery and freedom. But why?

The Torah states that when the elders were at Har Sinai, Hashem revealed to them a sapphire brick He always kept before Him while Bnei Yisroel were enslaved. The Matnas Chaim, citing Rabbi Simcha Zissel of Kelm, explains that remembering the hardship amplifies the joy of redemption. Therefore we begin telling the story of Pesach with the negative, with our enslavement, to magnify the joy we feel at our redemption. The way the mitzvah is transmitted to us validates this same idea. והגדת לבנך לאמר /And you will tell your son saying... Telling is a harsher tone of communication than saying. We use both. To really appreciate our redemption, writes Rabbi Bernstein, we must first put ourselves into the harsh conditions we faced in Egypt.  Then, in contrast, we can really appreciate our later redemption.

But the only way to really experience anything is through tangible association, continues the Matnas Chaim. Matzah and marror help us concretize the words of the Haggadah. When the Torah tells us va'asitem otam/observe, make them, the Gemorra reads it as va'asitem atem/make yourselves, recreate yourselves so that you become, as much as possible, that slave in Egypt. The mitzvoth of the Seder are sensory mitzvoth that immerse us into the experience, not just teach us intellectually. Before actually eating the matzah and the marror, stop, contemplate, eat slowly, let the tears form in your eyes.

It is after we have actually experienced the enslavement through these symbols that we are obligated to thank, praise, exalt and glorify Hashem, not as an obligation, but as an expression of gratitude and personal joy, of someone who has lived through these contrasting experiences, writes Rabbi Friedlander, the Sifsei Chaim.

 One of the main elements of freedom is control over one's time and how to use it. There are three dimensions of time. The past constitutes memory and introspection; the future is for aspiration, anticipation, and fulfillment of dreams. The present is extremely valuable as it uses memory of the past to form the basis of actualizing the future, writes Rabbi Besdin in Reflections of the Rav. Only a free man can move from one dimension of time to another. Our awareness of time is reflected in the Seder and is an indication of our freedom.

We ask, "Why do we eat matzah/al shum mah? We strive to reach the level of Moshe and Aharon who humbly asked, "Mah anachnu/Who [what] are we," writes the Shvilei Pinchas citing the Vishnitzer Rebbe. When we daven, we must try to keep two thoughts in mind simultaneously. First, the loftiness of Hakodosh Boruch Hu as, "Mah adir Shimcha.../ How lofty is Your Name..." together with, "Mah enosh ki tizkerenu/What in man that You should consider him?" Matzah brings us to both these realizations. Why do we eat the matzah? Because when we left Egypt, they couldn't delay any longer, lo yuchlu lehis-mah-m(ei)ah. Because there was no time to contemplate these two realities then, we do so at the Seder. The Netivot Shalom and Rabbi Kluger contrast chametz and matzah. Colorless, white matzah, without any additives to basic flour and water, has no individual identity. It remains exactly as it was made, reflecting a man who does not inject his own desires, but submits to the will of his Baker. Chametz, on the other hand, changes its shape and conforms to his own whims and times. To reach the level of perceiving the concealed light of this night, "A night illuminated like the day," requires humility and self negation, adds Rabbi Schorr in Halekach Vehalebuv, as symbolized by the matzah.

We left the servitude of Egypt to become servants of Hashem. Did we merely exchange one servitude for another? In Orot Hamoadim, Rabbi Zucker refers to Shirat Hayam, The song of the Sea at the splitting of the sea and the drowning of the Egyptians. Rabbi Zucker notes several allusions to the Beit Hamikdosh throughout the Song, perhaps the most obvious, "Machon leshivtecha poalto Hashem/The foundation of Your dwelling place... Your hands established." Pharaoh, who considered himself a god who created the Nile, saw his entire army drowned in the depths of the Sea, while Bnei Yisroel were lifted up, would physically build the Sanctuary for the true God's presence, and become elevated through service to Him. The haughtier and more boastful you are, the more you eventually reveal how truly empty, powerless, and lowly you truly are.

We become great by associating with the Greatness of Hakodosh Boruch Hu. True, three times a year we are to visit our Master bearing gifts, but we are also princes, sharing in the meals of the King through the sacrificial animals. The greater a servant you are, the higher you can raise yourself and access the majesty within yourself. That is why we begin Hallel by praising ourselves as avdei Hashem /servants of Hashem. We talk of Hashem's greatness through which I can be elevated. Both the poor man's bread and royalty are included in the idea of matzah. We are part of Hashem's entourage. The bitterness and the lowliness have prepared us to be kings tonight.

Sovereignty is the seventh sephirah/ the seventh attribute, a state of being that is so elevated as it is a state of service, its ability to receive. The place this attribute is manifest is in the mouth. Therefore, King David described himself as being the personification of prayer, va'ani tefillah writes Rabbi Zev Reichman in Flames of Faith. What is the name of the holiday we are celebrating? Pesach, a peh/mouth that sach/speaks. The dual themes of the Seder are again validated with the terminology of the Seder. Not only is the festival's name indicative of freedom, but our ability to speak freely and retell our history is the very name of our liturgy, the Haggadah/Telling.

This night we celebrate our freedom in both humility and pride. [Not haughtiness.] We are privileged to be servants of the King. We recognize our lowly slave beginnings and are grateful for being elevated to the freedom of being Hashem's national emissary to the world.