PESACH:
POTENCY OF PRAYER
Shira
Smiles shiur –
March 23, 2014/Adar II 21, 5774
Summary
by Channie Koplowitz Stein
Every event in history, every story in life has a main plot line set in
a
supporting background that lends it both credibility and richness. The
Passover
chronicle is no exception. While the main theme of Pesach is the story
of our
redemption and of our unflagging faith in Hashem both before the
redemption and
as a reference point throughout our history after our redemption, the
sub theme
of prayer, of speech and communicating with Hashem provides a strong
background
for the major theme. As proof, Ramban writes that we were redeemed only
through
the power of our prayer, for we had already fallen into a state of
unworthiness.
Let us begin tracing the thread of prayer through the Pesach narrative
and
understanding the special voice of the Jew for, as Rabbi Broide writes
in Sam
Derech, since Yitzchak blessed Yaakov by recognizing his special
voice (hakol
kol Yaakov), the cries of Bnei Yisroel no longer need to be
specific, for
Hashem is always there, and, like a mother who gives her attention and
fulfills
the wordless needs of her crying child, so does Hashem care for us as
well.
Therefore, when Moshe asks Hashem by what Name he should identify God
to Bnei
Yisroel when they will ask, Hashem’s
response is, “I
will be (with you) as I have been (with you).”
In other words, let them call out to me and I will answer, and they
will know
Who I am.
One of the questions raised by the Pesach events goes back to the
prophecy of
these events in the Covenant Between the Halves when Hashem tells
Avraham Avinu
that his progeny will be enslaved for four hundred years. However, the
entire
time in Egypt was only two hundred ten years, and that includes the
time pre
enslavement, when Joseph’s
family was revered in Egypt. The most often quoted reconciliation of
this
mathematical dilemma is to say that we begin counting the years of
enslavement
from the birth of Yitzchak who was the progeny through which the
prophecy would
be realized and whose birth was alluded to as the seed promised to
Avraham at
the beginning of this prophecy.
Nevertheless, how was this calculation determined? Rabbi Ber in Maaseh
Rokem
posits that in fact the four hundred years was meant to be nebulous.
Its end
would be determined by when Bnei Yisroel would call out to Hashem, and
then
four hundred years would be counted backwards. So it was that the
beginning of
the four hundred years coincided with the birth of Yitzchak. Had Bnei
Yisroel
cried out sooner, the beginning of the enslavement could have been
calculated
back to the time of the original prophecy.
And yet, once Bnei Yisroel cry out, the situation in Egypt gets even
worse, the
suffering intensifies. Why? Because, Rav Schwadron explains, the
suffering was
preordained. If the time is now telescoped into two hundred ten years,
the
suffering must be concentrated to fill that timeframe. So too, when our
own
challenges seem to become unbearable, perhaps it is because Hashem is
now
hastening our deliverance.
Rabbi Shimshon Pincus notes in Tiferes Shimshon that most of
the terms
used to describe the prayer of Bnei Yisroel were wordless cries or
groans that
Hashem listened to, for Hashem doesn’t
need to hear words to understand the pain in one’s
heart, and when one cries out when he feels lost, his cry is
non-specific to
whoever can help him. Ultimately, this is none other than Hakodosh
Boruch Hu.
After all, when we are in a tight place and in pain, Hashem is there
with us,
in our very hearts, feeling our pain, as the verse states, “Imo
Anochi
betzarah - I am together with him in his troubles.”
So when Bnei Yisroel cried out from
the depths of their hearts, Hashem understood and knew what had to be
done.
The situation, though, begs the question: If the servitude was so
painful, why
didn’t
Bnei
Yisroel cry out sooner, or, alternatively, what spurred Bnei Yisroel
into
crying out now? One response is that of Rav Tzadok Hakohen who tells us
that
when Hashem wants to save us, he inspires us to pray and cry out to
Him.
Through our search for intimacy with Hakodosh Boruch Hu that prayer
implies, we
will merit salvation.
We can approach the question and timing of our prayers in Egypt from an
entirely different perspective. The Maor Vashemesh, the
mystical Rabbi
Kalonymus Epstein, writes that in Egypt not only were our bodies
physically
enslaved, but our power of speech was also in exile, signified by the
very name
of the tyrant of Pesach, PaRoh, an anagram
for Peh
Ra, an evil mouth, a tyrant who denies everyone free speech,
and
certainly the ability to pray. Moshe understood Pharaoh well, for he
asks
Hashem how he can approach Pharaoh when Moshe himself has difficulty
speaking.
Therefore, as Rabbi Tatz notes in World Mask, Hashem assures
Moshe that
He will be with him, and Moshe’s
speech will be a reflection of God’s
voice coming face to face with Pharaoh, while Pharaoh himself will turn
his
back (neck) on the words of God, as signified by another anagram of the
name PaROh
= OReF(P), or the back of the neck.
Maor Vashemesh continues to explain the centrality of speech and
prayer
to the Seder. Of primary importance is the name by which we designate
the
holiday, Pesach, a contraction of Peh Sach, the mouth speaks,
for not
only were we freed from our bondage, but the power of speech was
unshackled as
well. Further, the entire ritual of the Seder is conducted through
speech,
through questions and answers, and he who increases telling the story
of our
exodus from Egypt is praiseworthy. In fact, the overriding charge of
the Seder,
as specified in the Torah, is to tell the story with its ramifications
to our
children.
The events immediately following the exodus further point to the
importance of
speech and prayer in the narrative. After Bnei Yisroel leave Egypt.
Hashem has
them turn around and backtrack to Pi Hachirot which our Sages
say is non
other than PiThom, one of the storage cities that Bnei Yisroel
had
built. But now there is a difference, for Bnei Yisroel have gone
through the
process of forced silence, the closed mouth, pi thom, and have
emerged
into pi cherut, a free mouth, free to connect to Hashem through
speech
and prayer. This, says the Chochmat Hamaspun was the
entire purpose
of leading them this way and having the Egyptians chase them, for
Hakodosh
Boruch Hu wanted to hear the sweet voice of His children call out to
Him, the
voice He hadn’t
heard in so long. Once we called out, the connections were made for the
miracle
of the splitting of the sea to occur. Indeed, the purpose of all the
challenges
and troubles Hashem puts before us, writes Rabbi Nissel in Rigshei
Lev,
are to offer us an opportunity to call out to Hashem and develop a
relationship
with Him.
If we backtrack for a moment, we are still left with the question of
the timing
of Bnei Yisroel’s
cry to Hashem that activated the redemption process. The verse tells us
that
the king of Egypt died at which point Bnei Yisroel groaned because of
the work,
and they cried out. Why did they cry out now and not earlier? According
to
Rabbi Gamliel Horowitz in Tiv Hatorah, the Jews were prohibited
from
crying or praying, but now, with the general mourning of the land for
the death
of the leader, Bnei Yisroel joined in the general grief. However, their
tears
were not about the death of Pharaoh, but rather for their own
circumstances.
(What will it take for Jews to be allowed to pray on the Temple Mount?)
As a
variation, a similar ploy was used by victims of the Holocaust in the
face of
the Nazi oppressors, as noted in the book Touched. By a Story.
The pious
Jews appeared to be bemoaning their fate by intoning, “Aye,
aye, aye,”
when in fact they were mouthing a
mnemonic for remembering the six mandated daily remembrances in
defiance of
their oppressors. Further, getting back to Egypt, says Maayan Hamoed,
when no relief came with the ascension of the new king, Bnei Yisroel
finally
cried out to Hashem.
How did the enslavement begin? Rabbi Twerski notes that the servitude
began
with false overtures of friendship; voyoreu othanu haMitzrim,
has the
double meaning of the Egyptians being evil to us and its exact
opposite, the
Egyptians were friendly to us. This pseudo friendship created an
emotional
connection to the Egyptians that kept Bnei Yisroel from crying out
writes Rabbi
Dovid Hofstedter in Drash Dovid. Further, adds Rabbi Avraham
Schorr in Halekach
Vehalebuv, Bnei Yisroel suffered from a mindset that glorified
Egyptian
culture, making it seem like a privilege to be working for them. Only
after the
death of the king and the ascension of a new monarch did Bnei Yisroel
realize
they had been duped. So when Hashem takes us out of the oppressions of
Egypt,
He is taking us out of the psychological oppression of Egyptian culture
as well
as from the physical oppression of servitude. In fact, continues Rabbi
Schorr,
the charge to continuously see ourselves as if we personally left
Mitzrayim
refers to our tendency to be seduced by the mindset of the prevailing
culture, so
that we are caught up in its materialism or its technology at the
expense of
our spiritual growth. If we ask for Hashem’s
help, we too can free ourselves from the shackles that bind us to these
oppressors that can rob us of our time and our dignity as free and
spiritual
human beings.
What was the overriding problem in Egypt? After all, it was described
as a
second Eden, lush and beautiful and requiring minimal cultivation. And
in fact,
that was the problem, writes Rabbi Baum in Lilah Kayom Yair.
Because the
land was so fertile and was watered regularly by the overflowing Nile,
the
people relied only upon themselves and nature, never needing to form a
connection to a higher Power. This was what Hashem wanted to negate,
for He
desires a connection with His creations.
The Matnas Chaim notes that the theme of prayer is so integral
to the
story of our redemption that it is even woven into the Egyptian
subplot, for
the plagues are removed by dint of Moshe’s
praying for their removal. The entire purpose of the redemption, as
testified
to when we sing Dayenu was to enable us to build the Beit
Hamikdosh, a
place where we could approach Hashem in prayer. Even the structure of
the Seder
hints at prayer, for there are eighteen blessings (nineteen if you
count netilat
yodayim separately) that parallel the eighteen blessings of the Amidah
prayer.
Therefore, speaking extraneous words irrelevant to the Seder
discussion is
prohibited, for this is a night of deep prayer when our entire nation
prayed
for their redemption as destruction and death swirled around
them.
The Rabbenu Yona notes that the Jews in Efypt spent the entire night in
prayer,
not relying on their own merits to protect them from the destruction
around
them. We therefore see that this is indeed a central motif for us
as we
relive theevents of this auspicious night.
Rabbi
Meisels writes in Sichot Baavodat Hashem, this night is
dedicated to
receiving our prayers, and Rabbi Meisels points out specific areas in
the Seder
service which seem to be very receptive to individual prayers. Not only
is the
holiday called Peh sach, the mouth speaks, but matzoh, the
necessary “bread”
of the Seder is
called lechem oni, the bread with which Hashem answers (our
prayers), a
variant translation of oni.
So where are some of the most suitable places in the Seder to
insert our
prayers? The Seder itself indicates, before the Mah Nishtanah, “Here
the son asks,”
and here we can
ask our Father in heaven for what we need. Certainly, when we eat the
matzoh,
we can ask that Hashem answer our prayers, and when we mention the
child who
cannot ask, we ask Hashem to open our own mouths to ask for spiritual
growth.
Perhaps most of all, we ask Hashem, “Why
is this night, this exile, different from all other nights?”
Please Hashem, let
Your anger pour forth on our enemies, let the day come soon when we
will greet
Eliyahu Hanavi, the harbinger of our redemption, so that we can conduct
our
Seder next year in the rebuilt Yerushalayim –
leshan habaah b’yerushalayim
habenuyah.