RETURNING TO ROOTS: PESACH
Shira Smiles shiur – 2016/5776
Summary by Channie Koplowitz Stein
The Mishnah notes that we begin recounting the events of
the evening with words describing our disgrace, and we culminate with words of
praise. Rav and Shemuel dispute whether these refer to our physical
disgrace, and hence begin with “we were slaves to Pharoh in Egypt, or our
spiritual disgrace, with “our forefathers were idolaters,”. We follow
both opinions, and include both in our recounting. The
commentators are troubled why we focus on our negative beginnings on this night
of celebration of our redemption. The words of praise are
formulated as “and now Hashem has brought us close to His service.” When
is the “now”?
The Seder if full of contrasting and
contradictory symbols to help us in the retelling of the exodus narrative.
Within each symbol itself we have an allusion to both servitude and freedom,
notes Rabbi Mattisyahu Salomon. The word karpas,
for example, the vegetable, can be read backwards as s porak
– 60(x100,000) = 600,000 who did backbreaking work. Yet we take that symbol of
slavery and dip it, a custom associated with freedom and wealth, (albeit we dip
it in salt water, also a symbol of tears). We drink four cups of wine, perhaps
the ultimate symbol of freedom, yet our rabbis urge us to drink red wine to
remind us of the Jewish blood Pharaoh bathed in when he was stricken with
leprosy. Certainly, the ultimate symbol of Pesach, the matzoh, is
quintessentially a symbol of both slavery and freedom; it is both the poor
man’s bread and the quick bread that had no time to rise as we were rushed out
of Egypt into freedom. We remember both the pain and the salvation, continues
Rabbi Salomon, so that we will increase our gratitude and praise of Hakodosh
Boruch Hu. And both the pain and the salvation include both physical and
spiritual elements, hence the twofold beginnings of our story.
Nevertheless, it would seem
embarrassing to bring up our disgrace. Why do we do it? Our practices and Torah
are valid not only in the distant past, but are relevant to the present and
future as well. Rabbi Moshe Feinstein gives us a psychological insight into
this question. While many people who reform themselves try to forget their past
completely, we understand that there will be times when we may falter in our
resolve. It is during those times that we can look back at our inglorious past,
note how far we’ve come in spite of our current failure, and gain encouragement
for continuing to improve.
It is along these lines that the Talelei
Chaim the Chalban writes that it is precisely because we came from
such dark places, spiritually and physically, and that we are now in the light
that we can appreciate this constant theme in our personal and national
history. It is with this understanding that we realize that we could not do
this alone, that now as then, it is Hashem Who brings us close to Him out of
the darkness into the light to His service. While it was our free will that
chose to come into Hashem’s service, writes the Vilna Gaon, we would not have
been able to achieve this without Hashem’s help and the resources He has given
us.
If Hashem wanted to bring us close
to Him, why take us down to Egypt and the persecution that our sojourn
there entailed? In Darkness to Destiny Rabbi Imanuel Bernstein presents
an interesting case that ties directly to our discussion. We were not a nation
born in purity. We had within us the DNA of Terach, Avraham’s father, a
preeminent idol worshiper of his day. Although our forefathers, Avraham,
Yitzchak and Yaakov, founded monotheism and instilled those beliefs within
their progeny, it is likely that over the course of generations, we could have
reverted back to those practices. To prevent that problem, Hashem had to excise
the cancer of the allure of those ideas from our psyche. By taking us down to
Egypt and allowing us to experience the decadence and ugliness of that society,
we would not be tempted to fall back into its clutches for any length of time,
even if we were to falter on occasion. In this context, being slaves in Egypt
was the cure for our ancestor being an idol worshiper and was the beginning of
Hashem bringing us close to Him. Therefore it is appropriate that of the three
symbols necessary for the fulfillment of Pesach – Pesach (sacrificial lamb),
matzah and marror (bitter herbs) – marror comes last, for it is
only after the events of Pesach and matzoh that we can appreciate the value of
the bitter herbs representing our enslavement, writs Rabbi Gedalyah Schorr.
Hashem needed to purify us not only
of the genetic DNA of Terach, but also of the DNA of Lavan, the father of all
of Yaakov’s wives and mothers of all the twelve tribes. The smelting pot that
removes the impurities from precious metals, the kur habarzel
to which Egypt is compared, removed the impurities that Bilhah, Rachel,
Zilpah, and Leah brought with them from their fathers’ house. It was
this purification process that enabled my ancestors to be redeemed, and
therefore the process itself, painful as it was, needs to be celebrated.
It is this elevation in our status
as Hashem brought us closer to Hashem that Rav Dovid Hofstedter uses to explain
why we eat only matzah with the korban Pesach, and not both bread and matzah as
with other thanksgiving offerings, Rabbi Hofstedter quoting the Chasam
Sofer, notes that his offering is more closely akin to the offering a priest
brings upon his elevation from being an ordinary priest to becoming the High
Priest. As the newly appointed High Priest brings a thanksgiving offering
accompanied only with matzah, so do we eat only matzah on this night in
commemoration of our newly elevated status from the worship of strange gods to
a relationship with Hakodosh Boruch Hu. On this night, we celebrate not only
our liberation from physical slavery, but also our liberation from spiritual
slavery and reliance on false gods. We must see ourselves as leaving our own
constraints and growing.
Now we can understand that there are
two kinds of enslavement, writes the GR”A, the Vilna Gaon. Along with physical
slavery, one can also by subjected to spiritual slavery. While “We were slaves
unto Pharaoh in Egypt” refers to our physical enslavement, “Our ancestors were
idol worshipers, Terach ...” refers to our spiritual enslavement. Pesach
commemorates our redemption from both, and we need to discuss both of these aspects
of our liberation during the Seder, writes Rabbi Twersky. The goal is for our
entire soul and the souls of all living things to sing praises to the Creator.
Rabbi Twersky offers an incisive
explanation of exactly what idolatry is. He explains that man was not so
foolish as to believe in the powers of metal or wood. Rather, he sought to find
a way to indulge his passions and desires. What better way than to create a god
who condones or even prefers such otherwise taboo behavior. It is worthwhile
here to quote Rabbi Twersky directly: “According to Torah, God created man and
dictates how man should behave. In idolatry, man creates his own gods and
dictates to them to tell him what he wishes to hear.” This would also refer to
all the philosophies, isms, and politically correct behaviors we use to
convince ourselves that our behavior is correct when it obviously is not so.
“And now...” Hashem does not look at
our past, writes Rabbi Spero citing the Chasan Sofer. He brings us closer to
Him now, at this moment, irrespective of our past. This is a night of
transformation. As Rabbi Biderman notes in Be’er Chaim, constantly
dwelling on the past is its own form worshiping strange gods. This is a time to
move forward and cherish the moment to come closer to Hashem.
Perhaps by discussing Rabbi Eliyahu
Roth’s essay in Sichot Eliyahu we can better understand exactly what
happens when one is enslaved. Man was destined to be king on earth as God is in
heaven. Hashem created Man with unlimited potential, who could see from one end
of the earth to the other. True, after Adam’s sin, Hashem set some limits upon
him, but Man still was fashioned in God’s image with the ability to create.
Slavery takes that potential, that form, and sets constraints upon it. It takes
boundless man and confines it. It takes the boundless yam/sea and puts a
meitzar/constraint around it so that it no longer has an independent
form of its own. This is what Mitzrayim/Egypt,/meitzar yam
signifies. Man becomes no better than a chamor, a donkey, a beast with
no identity of his own, consisting only of lowly earth, nothing more than a
beast to serve others. (Anyone interested can read The Man with the Hoe,
a remarkable poem by Edwin Markham that powerfully coveys this idea. C.K.S.)
When you constantly “go with the
flow”, you are no more than water without form, constantly being drawn to the
fashion, technology, and mores of the times. You have no independent sense of
self. I must first realize that I can have a form of my own, and not just
remain raw material. I can break away from the constraints of “everybody” and
come closer to Hashem.
But water is an integral part not
only of life but of the very process of baking matzah. However, we do not use
water directly from the tap to bake our matzah The water is required to rest
overnight, for twelve hours, before it can be mixed with the flour. Rabbi
Eisenberger, in Mesilot Bilvovom gives us some insight into why this may
be so.
When Hashem created the waters, the
upper waters were closer to Hashem and were therefore very spiritual. The lower
waters originally complained, but soon became content with their lower identity
and mission. While the lower waters were involved in so much good, they didn’t
allow these deeds to affect them, much like our souls that are often involved
in so many mitzvoth but still remain distant from Hakodosh Boruch Hu.
What do we do to the water for the
matzah? We separate it from its source and make it stay overnight. It becomes
water of reflection as it now has the time to contemplate its mission. When we
ingest the matzah kneaded with this water, we too can contemplate our souls and
yearn again to come closer to Hashem. We too can make eating the matzah a
spiritual experience. We can transform every mitzvah from rote performance to a
path of closeness to the Creator. The night of the Seder is a night of
redemption, but you need to see where you’re at and what needs improvement. We
need to break out of our limitations and develop our potential. The time is now.
Our Seder ends with the chad
gadya/one goat. Rav Leibel Eiger asks why we focus on a goat instead of on
a sheep? A sheep is passive, just chomer, material without form or
actions of its own. A goat, on the other hand, leaps and moves forward. This is
our opportunity to leap forward. If you believe that Hashem is our Lord in the
heavens and on the earth, and we believe that He leaps over mountains to bring
us closer to Him, then the water of the matzah is calling to you. The night of
the Seder is a night of opportunity and growth. Hashem is knocking on our door,
asking us to open it for Him. How are we responding?