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3 Mah Nishtana
DANI ROTH Its role in the Seder 4 Multiverse
RABBI MOSHE BEN-CHAIM Refutations from Isaiah & why God must be last
6 10 Plagues
RABBI MOSHE BEN-CHAIM Insights into each plague
8 Happiness
RABBI ELIE FEDER PHD
Torah lessons from a mom’s parting words 12 Dressed for the Road
RABBI REUVEN MANN The attitude of the Jews at the first Seder
15 Leaving Egypt
17 Bread
RABBI MOSHE BEN-CHAIM
The significance of bread, matzah and chametz
19 Seder Images
How can we prove what didn’t take place yet, and why is this a vital lesson? (page 5)
PASSOVER
DANI ROTH
RABBI ISRAEL CHAIT Lessons from Maimonides’ precise formulations Mah
At the start at Maggid, right after filling the 2nd cup of wine, the first thing said is Ma Nishtana. Ma Nishtana has no mention of the events of Yetzias Mitzrayim, so why should it be included in Maggid? How does this fit in with the mitzvah of “Sipur Yetzias Mitzrayim”? Is it different than the mitzvah of “Vihiggadita Levincha”?
Gemara Pesachim 116a discusses the recital of Ma Nishtana. The Mishna says:
The attendants poured the second cup for the leader of the seder, and here the son asks his father the questions about the differences between Passover night and a regular night. And if the son does not have the intelligence to ask questions on his own, his father teaches him the questions.
The Gemara then comments on this:
The Sages taught: If his son is wise and knows how to inquire, his son asks him. And if he is not wise, his wife asks him. And if even his wife is not capable of asking or if he has no wife, he asks himself. And even if two Torah scholars who know the halakhot of Passover are sitting together and there is no one else present to pose the questions, they ask each other.
The Mishna says that if the son can’t ask the Ma Nishtana, then it is the father’s job to teach him the questions one should ask. It seems from here that the father would fulfill the Chiyuv to recite the Ma Nishtana. But the Gemara says if the son is not intelligent enough to ask, the wife asks instead. It seems contradictory, why would the father’s recital of the Ma Nishtana in the capacity of teaching fail to fulfill the Chiyuv?
The answer is that the Mishna and the Gemara are talking about two different “Kiyummim” of the Chiyuv Sipur Yetzias Mitzrayim. One means of being
Mikayame Supur is Vihiggadita Levincha, teaching your sons so that the story will be passed down to the next generation, which the Mishna addresses. The father has to make the son recognize the distinctions of the night, even if the son doesn’t ask. The Gemara, however, is dealing with the obligation of the “format” of Sipur, a different Kiyyum. The best way to do Sipur is through a question-answer format in a dialogue. This is why the Gemara states that the wife must ask if the son cannot partake in a question-answer format. The father teaching the son, without the son initiating the question, is lacking dialogue. This is why both the Mishna and Gemara are needed.
According to Rabbi Yisroel Chait, the best format is teaching a son, where there is dialogue format and transference of knowledge to the son, fulfilling “Vihiggadita Levincha”. The next best format is teaching your wife, where there's no “Vihiggadita Levincha”, but there's transference of knowledge and dialogue. The third level is between two Chachamim, where there's no transference of knowledge, but you have dialogue. And the lowest level is where there is no real dialogue, but you have a dialogue format when one is alone and asks himself.
On further explaining the role of Ma Nishntana, the Gemara later mentions Rav Nachman:
Rav Nachman said to his servant, Daru: “With regard to a slave who is
freed by his master, who gives him gold and silver, what should the slave say to him?” Daru said to him: “He must thank and praise his master.” He said to him: “You have exempted us from reciting the questions of: Why is this night different”. Rav Nachman immediately began to recite: ‘“We were slaves.”
This further proves that the function of Ma Nishtana is to render Sipur (“Avaddim Hayinu”) in the framework of dialogue, and that Sipur is a “response”. After Daru’s answer that a slave should thank his master, Rav Nachman goes straight to Avadim Hayinnu, making it not just a monologue, but a part of a dialogue. But without Daru saying anything, Rav Nachman commencing with Avaddim Hayinu would not be a “response.”
The reason for the dialogue format is because knowledge is better received when it is a response, because a response satisfies curious minds already engaged in the discussion. Telling a friend a new idea wont impact him as much as if that idea was part of a discussion. This is important for Sipur as this mitzvah is all about transmitting knowledge. This is the reason Ma Nishtana comes at the start of Maggid. It starts the conversation which Avadim Hayinnu responds to, creating a dialogue format that best engages the son and best fulfills Sipur. ■
PHILOSOPHY
UnMultiple lverses?
GOD: THE FIRST & THE LAST THE TEST OF A GOD
RABBI MOSHE BEN-CHAIM
Isaiah says the Jews didn’t sacrifice to God, but to their handmade idols. God responds:
“I am the first and I am the last, and there is no god but Me” (Isaiah 44:6).
Isaiah intends to correct the Jews and steer them back to worshipping God alone. And this idea that God is the “first and last” is so crucial it forms part of our morning prayer Ezras Avosanu. But how does God being first and last help the Jews reject idolatry, and how can we prove God is last? For God doesn’t communicate anything that cannot be proven beyond doubt. The question is that the Jews might think, “Although it is historically proven that God is first, perhaps new gods will outlive God.” As the end has not yet arrived, this view is not yet rejected by any evidence, so the Jews might feel justified to defect from God and follow idols. How does God refute this 100%?
Do Things exist on their Own?
Man errs by thinking that once an entity exists, it no longer requires God’s will to remain existing. For people view a thing’s very existence as its “own” property, independent from God. The “end of time” has not yet arrived when God is last, and therefore people think, perhaps, their god or idol will outlast God. However, God being the “last” here, does not refer to time. Here, “last” means that God determined the duration of all His creations. He alone is permanent, all else exists only as long as God wishes: God not only grants existence, but also maintains existence.
By Virtue of God being First, He Must be the Last
In His creation of every single entity, God granted both, their existences, and their properties. And the most essential property of all existence is its nature “not” to exist, explaining why it could not exist without God’s will. Thus, God alone is permanent. He alone will be last, should He ever decide to cease His will that the universe continues. It is by virtue of God being first, that He will be last, as being first, He created all existences and continually wills all to remain, as our prayers state, “He renews the works of creation with His goodness each day.” God being “last” means God determines the lifespan of all else. Thus, we need not witness the end of time; evidence is unnecessary when logic provides ironclad proof. And perhaps “first and last” belong in a single Torah verse to convey the integral relationship between being first and last: being first demands that all but God is temporal.
“I
am the first and I am the last, and there is no god but Me”
Thereby, the Jews understand that their worshipping manufactured gods and idols is foolish for 2 reasons: they can’t be gods as they required God to make their substances, and they can’t be gods as their lifespans depend on God’s will. Their very creation from nothingness reveals they exist due only to God, and they also cannot prevent their destruction. They are not gods.
The Test of a God
Multiverse theorists attempt to deny God by suggesting the following:
“There are an infinite number of universes, necessitating all possible universe variations, which ultimately means one universe must emerge perfect for human life. We live in that universe.”
Multiverse theorists (atheists) suggest our universe is merely a chance happening and not God’s design. However, that thinking is wrong for a few clear reasons.
One: Infinite universes do not dictate infinite variations. Without this universe’s laws of probability, nothing dictates that infinite other universes must produce infinite variations; “variation” may not apply in other universes!
Two: Infinite splashes of ink against a wall will never create even a single page of Shakespeare, let alone a complete book. But multiverse theorists say, “Forget a book, a fine-tuned universe perfect for life—far greater than a novel—will result from random universe variations over infinite time.” Wow. Astounding. In his desperation to deny God and escape religious life, multiverse theorists resort to absurd claims. Can chance events produce thousands of animal species, each of which knows how to find its proper prey, how to catch it, how to eat it, how to feed its young…a universe where just by chance, animal organs would evolve that match the universe in terms of the need for air, food, water and suitable temperatures? Where animals evolve with
systems of respiration, digestion, blood and circulation? And we’re not even talking about a human metaphysical soul that can think…is that too a result of a randomly evolving physical universe? Can a physical evolution produce a metaphysical soul? All this is clearly absurd, a transparent attempt for man to free himself from his obligation to follow God.
Three: Multiverse theorists propose “The Infinite.” Yet, the infinite is not observed. There’s nothing with infinite size, infinite time, infinite space, and we don’t witness infinite creations. Claiming anything infinite, a scientist veers from scientific thought which must be based on observation. But suggesting the infinite, multiverse theorists refute their own theory by denying what reality dictates. There is only one universe to examine, not many universes. Multiverse theorists do not act intelligently as scientists must act.
In Isaiah’s time too there were people denying God and committing idolatry. God responds:
“And whomever is like Me, let him announce and tell us the order of creation as it took place, and predict the future” (Isaiah 44:7).
God refutes multiverse theories for He says creation embodies knowledge, not randomness. God coerces man to expose the fallacy of idol worship by summoning man to the impossible: defend your gods by explaining creation’s ordered origins, step-by-step, and future predictions. For only the true God—the Creator—can explain how creation took place, its great ordered wisdom and knowledge of the future. “God” refers to the Creator. Only God can explain creation, and as time too is a creation, God is above time and He alone knows the future. The test of the true God is the being who can explain creation and the future. ■
10 PLAGUES
As is true regarding all God’s acts, the 10 Plagues contained great wisdom and direction for man. As is true regarding all Torah sections, God provides hints to His underlying lessons and clues to His brilliance. In the Biblical verses recording the 10 Plagues, which convey God’s words to Moses, Moses’ words to Pharaoh, and Pharaoh’s reactions, we discover such messages.
Dam, Tzefardaya: Blood & Frogs
God wished the plagues to unveil Egypt’s idolatrous beliefs as fallacies and recognize Him alone as the Creator. The first plague—Dam—intended to refute the Nile’s divine status. How can a god be subjected to other forces converting it into blood?
Rabbi Reuven Mann wrote: “Pharaoh went to his house and did not give credence even to this” (Exod. 7:23). What do I care where he went after blood took place? Pharaoh took comfort and security in his house and this enabled him to deny reality. And that is why in the next plague, Tzefardaya, Torah makes the point that the frogs invaded his very living quarters to remove that basis of denial.
And I believe Exodus 8:8 proves Rabbi Mann’s point, as this verse refers to frogs as a plague that God “gave to Pharaoh,” and not more inclusively, that He “gave to Egypt.”
Lessons: The Nile was no god; one cannot escape God’s lessons.
Kinnim: Lice
When the astrologers could not reproduce the plague of lice, they hid their weakness behind the excuse “it is the finger of God” (Exod. 8:15). God records their feeble attempt at duplicating lice precisely to disarm their claims to astrological power and magic. However, until Shechin, the astrologers retained their positions, for they attributed only this plague of Kinnim to God, but not Dam and Tzefardaya. A purpose in exposing the astrologers was that although their duplication of the previous two miracles were mere sleight of hand, some ignorant onlookers might
attribute powers to them. Saadia Gaon explains that the astrologers used dyes to mimic blood and used chemicals to cause the frogs to leap from the chemically polluted waters. Saadia Gaon remarks that Egypt’s magic was sleight of hand, and nothing more (The Book of Beliefs & Opinions, pg. 153).
Lesson: Powers do not exist outside God.
Arove: Mix of Wild Animals
“And I will distinguish on the day the land of Goshen that My people stand [dwell] upon, restricting Arove from [entering] there, that you may know the I am God in the midst of the land” (Exod. 8:18).
Egypt believed in general powers with their many gods: Ptah (god of creation), Ra (god of sun/wind), Matt (god of stars/seasons), Horus (god of the sky), Osiris and Anubis (gods of death), etc. God taught the profound lesson that His dominion extends to Earth: “in the midst of the land.” A distinction between lands exhibited God’s awareness of various peoples. This was a first step in educating Pharaoh on God’s “specific” providence: a view different from the Egyptian view of “general” powers. Secondly, animal attacks were alien to the idolatrous view (invented from human insecurity) that gods provide only good. An extension of this second idea was that animal attacks forced the Egyptians to question animal deification, as animals no longer “favored” them as they had believed. This is alluded to as the word “sacrifice” is repeated five times in this plague, indicating Egypt’s reduced veneration of animals, to the extent that Pharaoh approved animal sacrifice.
Lesson: God’s reign extends to the Earth.
Dever: Animal Deaths
“Pharaoh sent [messengers] and behold, not one of Israel’s cattle died…” (Exod. 9:7).
Dever was a second step displaying God’s specific providence: reward and punishment of individuals expressed through only the sinners’
loss of property. With this verse, God isolates Pharaoh’s intrigue that a God will distinguish between individuals, punishing some and sparing others. From Pharaoh’s response of intrigue, it appears that Egypt did not view their gods as relating to individuals, but as relating to Egypt on the whole. Lesson: God relates to individuals; He knows man’s thoughts; man is rewarded and is punished based on his relationship to the Creator.
Shechin: Boils
“And the astrologers could not stand before Moses because of the boils; for the boils were on the astrologers and all of Egypt.” (Exod. 9:11) How do boils—a malady of the skin, not bones or muscles—affect posture? Also, of what relevance are the boils on “all of Egypt?” Why mention that, “all Egyptians” had boils, if the message concerns only the astrologers’ inability to stand? Furthermore, of what significance is the astrologers’ inability to stand before Moses, as opposed to standing before Pharaoh or others? And if they truly could not stand, let them sit! But “standing before” someone has another meaning... The primary lesson is that we use the verse as the starting point, and let it teach us. We must not to start with our own unchecked thoughts and then look for some supporting verse. The posture of lying mystics adds no great wisdom to God's Torah. The real lesson must address the basic theme of the 10 Plagues, as the plague of boils was delivered together with the other nine. Standing also means to “present one’s self”…to appear before others. The astrologers attempted to reproduce the plagues, only to expose their inabilities. When they could not reproduce the plague of lice, they hid their weakness behind the lying claim, “…it is the finger of God (Exod. 8:15).” It is significant that God records their feeble attempts. So significant, that it appears from the very few words concerning the plague of boils, that the objective of this plague was precisely to disarm their claims of superiority through astrology and magic. Torah verses are selective in their messages, not
merely recounting every single historical occurrence. Our verse means to teach that boils purposefully targeted the astrologers. “And the astrologers could not stand before Moses because of the boils; for the boils were on the astrologers and all of Egypt” refers not to posture, but to their ability to sustain their dignity...they could not “appear” before Moses who outperformed them. They were ashamed. But why were they any more ashamed during the plague of boils? The answer is the second part of the verse: “…for the boils were on the astrologers and all of Egypt.” A comparison is made: both, the astrologers and the Egyptians possessed boils. What about this comparison prevented the astrologers from appearing before Moses? Why was their “equal” status to all other Egyptians an embarrassment to them? We see the answer quite readily. It was the astrologers’ very equality to all other Egyptians that discounted their claims of possessing powers. They were no better. They could not defend themselves from boils. What type of powerful astrologer allows painful blisters to afflict him? It is the liar who allows this to happen, since in fact, he has no more defense from boils than any other Egyptian. Worse than Kinnim, Shechin embarrassed the astrologers personally, explaining why they could not “appear” before Moses.
From this plague and further we never hear from the astrologers again. God’s plan worked. Additionally, not standing before Moses thereby raised Moses’ status. Lessons: Astrologers are liars; political positions do not validate people; Moses was God’s true emissary.
Barad: Hail
“For this time I will send all My plagues upon your heart, and your courtiers, and your people, in order that you may know that there is none like Me in all the world” (Exod. 9:14). Egypt feared the heavens (Rabbi Israel Chait) explaining their invention of Horus, the sky god. With Hail, God intended to show His dominion over another domain: the heavens. We see Egypt’s fear of the
heavens, for once the hail commences, Pharaoh said to Moses, “Plead with the Lord that there may be an end of God’s voices and hail. I will let you go; you need stay no longer” (Exod. 9:28). Pharaoh’s deification of the heavens is seen in his mention of God’s “voices,” Pharaoh personified thunder, as if some angry being is behind it, as stated earlier, “For this time I will send all My plagues upon your heart.” More than Dever, Barad displayed a “will” that caused Pharaoh to feel victimized. This lesson is extended to Moses’ rebuke: “Now the flax and barley were ruined, for the barley was in the ear and the flax was in bud [they were stiff and snapped under Hail’s force], but the wheat and the emmer were not hurt, for they ripen late [they were soft and bent]” (Exod. 9:31:32). Moses was not teaching agriculture to Pharaoh. He was showing how this plague was designed around Pharaoh’s personality, to teach that his obstinance would cause him to be broken like stiff plants, but that he could survive if he “bent” to God’s will as did the soft, late-ripening crops. Here, Moses tells Pharaoh that God has singled him out, and knows him.
Lessons: The lofty heavens too are nothing more than another creation and not to be deified; God includes lessons in His acts.
Arbeh: Locusts
“They shall devour the surviving remnant that was left to you after the hail” (Exod. 10:5). “Then the Lord said to Moses, “Hold out your arm over the land of Egypt for the locusts, that they may come upon the land of Egypt and eat up all the grasses in the land, whatever the hail has left” (Exod. 10:12).
Torah repeats the intent of Arbeh: to finish Barad’s job. God teaches that He controls weather and animal life. Polytheism is false. For how can weather and animal life target the same objective—destruction of crops—were there not a Being orchestrating an identical purpose from both realms?
Lesson: A single God controls all realms of the universe; polytheism is false.
Choshech: Darkness
“People could not see one another” (Exod. 10:23).
Solitary confinement is the worst punishment, as man’s greatest need is to be social. When isolated from others, the social need is so powerful that man conjures images of people (shadim) to offer him company. [Rashi says that on the Ark there were shadim, as Noah too was isolated.] The gemara (Gittin 66a, Tosfos) does not say these shadim are dangerous, for they are phantoms of the mind, and not real. The gemara merely says not to greet them as this would raise their status from imaginary to real, and Torah rejects all lies.
There is a purpose in Choshech which emanates from isolation. The Egyptians’ loss of social intercourse combined with darkness prevented shadim (even phantoms require a visual basis) thereby forcing their yearning for dialogue to be converted into confronting God, the source of this darkness. Understanding this plague was God’s work, the Egyptians were offered the opportunity to face God: a force that controls the universe: “For it is not My desire that the wicked shall die—declares the Lord God, [rather] repent, therefore, and live!” (Ezek. 18:32). Lesson: God knows the human mind and how to make it confront truth.
Bechoros: Firstborn Deaths
As Rabbi Chait taught, this plague intended to terminate the transmission of Egyptian culture, which was passed on by the first borns.
In summary, God exposed Egypt’s gods and leaders as phony. He exhibited His control over all corners of the universe. Polytheism is false. God taught Egypt His specific knowledge of individual man and that He rewards and punishes. ■
HAPPINESS IN THE FACE OF ADVERSITY
Part 3 of 5: Focus on Today
RABBI ELIE
FEDER PHD
“Enjoy and cherish every day – don’t worry so much about tomorrow, on what might or might not happen. Do the best you can – but if you focus your worry on tomorrow, it makes you lose today and tomorrow. If something bad is going to happen, it will happen. You won't be able to deny it. At least you have today, and so many wonderful things happen in today.” — My mother’s letter
This powerful part of my mother’s letter touched so many people. Who doesn’t feel that their worries have caused them to squander so many todays and tomorrows? While we all sense its truth, my mother expressed it clearly, insightfully, and convincingly. Her words remind us that our worries are so counterproductive.
While her point is clearly true, what can we do about it? We can’t just tell ourselves that our worries are interfering with our happiness and – poof! – make them disappear. It’s just not that simple. What if we are worried? How can we implement my mother’s beautiful and meaningful letter in our own lives?
Men of Trust
The Mishnah in Sotah 48a says: “From the time when the Second Temple was destroyed…men of trust ceased to exist.” Rashi explains that “men of trust” refers to “those who find security in God, and rely on Him to do good, and aren’t worried about a loss.” In the Gemara, Rabbi Yitzchak explains that men of trust are “people who find security in the Holy One, Blessed be He. As it’s taught in a Beraisa: Rabbi Eliezer the Great says that whoever has bread in his basket to eat today and says, ‘What will I eat tomorrow?’ is nothing other than from those of little trust.”
But doesn’t this perspective seem extreme? Do men of trust simply assume that God will provide for their needs and ignore planning for the future? Isn’t this relying on a miracle? How can we make sense of this praiseworthy description of men of trust?
Reward and Punishment
To understand the men of trust, let’s first differentiate between two vastly different perspectives on the laws of nature. Atheistic scientists consider these laws as the be-all and end-all of existence. On the other hand, the Torah view recognizes the laws of nature as the amazing system that God created to govern His universe.
Since we know that the laws of nature are merely Hashem’s method of governing the world, we recognize that they’re not everything. Besides His natural laws, Hashem’s reward and punishment influence the laws of nature to provide us with what we deserve. As such, we know that our success isn’t entirely dependent upon how we take advantage of our chance opportunities but is significantly impacted by our service of Hashem and the corresponding Divine providence.
To highlight this important distinction between atheists and Torah, let’s take an example. Yaakov Avinu prepared for his confrontation with Eisav in three ways: gifts, a military strategy, and tefillah. If Yaakov adequately prepared himself with gifts and a military strategy, why did he need to daven? Conversely, if he davened, why did he need to prepare gifts and a military strategy? The answer is obvious: attaining success demands that we follow a two-pronged approach: on the one hand, we must analyze Hashem’s laws to formulate and implement an intelligent plan; on the other hand, we must recognize the limitations of this plan, and seek out Divine assistance to help bring it to fruition.
We can learn from Yaakov Avinu that, no matter how righteous we are, we can never be fully confident that Hashem will protect us. We can never simply ignore Hashem’s laws, act foolishly, and then sit back and trust that He’ll answer our prayers. Rather, we must analyze Hashem’s laws, make the best possible plan, and only then pray that the details will fall into place. This unique two-pronged Torah approach can help us appreciate the seemingly reckless perspective of men of trust who have bread in their basket and don’t ask, “What will I eat tomorrow?”
Planning vs. Worrying
The key to understanding men of trust is differentiating between planning and worrying. Men of trust plan, they don't worry. Once they formulate and implement a thought-out plan, as Rashi says, “they find security in God, rely on Him to do good, and aren’t worried about a loss.”
What’s the difference between planning and worrying? Planning is rational and productive; worrying is irrational and counterproductive. We plan to maximize the probability of our success. But, since even the best plan has a small probability of failure, we worry it may not work out. While we know that this worry doesn’t accomplish anything, we can’t help it. On the other hand, a man of trust realizes that once he has bread in his basket – meaning, a rational plan for his sustenance – it’s counterproductive to say, “What will I eat tomorrow?” It does no good to worry that things won’t work out and to make endless plans for that unlikely eventuality. The man of trust thinks, “I made a good plan – if things don’t work out, I’ll deal with it then.”
Stop Worrying
But how can we stop the worrying? To answer this question, let’s analyze worry a bit deeper. Why do we worry? Because we know that our plans aren’t guaranteed to bring about our success - that there will always be chance factors that are out of our control. We worry about these factors going wrong instead of right. But we must recognize that worrying cannot solve our problems.
So, what’s the alternative? Trust in Hashem. How does this help?
Once we do our best to make a rational plan for success, we are left with intangible factors that we can’t control. Though we never know exactly what will occur, we know and trust that Hashem runs the world according to justice. Even after we make our best plans, there’s something more we can do: we can learn Torah, perform mitzvos, and daven to Hashem. Even though these activities don’t guarantee results, they’re the best we can do in the face of uncertainty.
Our trust in Hashem can help us avoid, or at least minimize, the worrying. Why? Because worrying is based upon a feeling that we’re hopeless and are simply left to blind luck. However, if we embrace our limitations of fully accomplishing our goals on our own and instead turn to the Master of the universe, we can find a degree of security in knowing that we’re on the right track. This is the attitude of men of trust who “find security in God, rely on Him to do good, and aren’t worried about a loss.”
My Mother’s Trust
Now I’m beginning to understand my mother’s secret! She realized that as much as she could go to top doctors and take the best care of herself, she had limited control over her health – that her life (as all of our lives) is ultimately in the hand of God. That’s what she meant when she wrote, “If something bad is going to happen, it will happen. You won’t be able to deny it…Only God knows what lies ahead, what’s just around the corner. We cannot write the script.”
My mother recognized the negative effects of worry. That’s what she meant when she wrote, “Don’t worry so much about tomorrow, on what might or might not happen…But if you focus your worry on tomorrow, it makes you lose today and tomorrow.” If she had let herself worry every time something wasn’t right, she would’ve lost life’s most precious moments.
My mother exemplified the model of those who “find security in God, rely on him to do good, and aren’t worried about a loss.” If she could enjoy today, she wouldn’t ask, “Will I be healthy tomorrow?” She recognized the important distinction between planning and worrying. Instead of worrying, her trust in Hashem allowed her to focus on davening, learning, making good decisions, and, of course, enjoying today.
Practical Steps
Here are some thoughts that can help you incorporate the lessons gleaned from my mother’s letter and the Torah’s eternal messages into your own life.
A major impediment to happiness: Unproductive worrying about the future.
Why this causes unhappiness: Instead of enjoying what you have today, you worry about what you may or may not have in the future.
How this can be avoided: By staying focused on the good that you have today.
Practical steps to stay focused on the good you have today:
• Carefully consider which parts of the future are within your control and which are beyond your control.
• Regarding those things that are in your control, devote your energies toward making thought-out plans for success.
• Since the things that are out of your control are truly out of your control, acknowledge that worrying about them won’t enable you to control them.
• Instead, strive to serve God as best as you can, and then put your trust in Him. After all, He controls that which you can’t, and He runs the world according to His justice.
Why this helps you be happy: There is generally much good in your life to be happy about, as long as you avoid focusing on all the worries.
My mother’s life demonstrated that true happiness comes from a mindset deeply rooted in Torah values and principles. For a deeper analysis of Torah sources on happiness, or to explore more lessons from my mother about living a joyous Torah life, you can find Happiness in the Face of Adversity on Amazon at https://amzn.to/4i8PkLg and at Mosaica Press, or at your local seforim store.
Bio: Rabbi Elie Feder PhD, a Rebbe at Yeshiva Bnei Torah and a math professor at Kingsborough Community College, is the author of Gematria Refigured (2022) and Happiness in the Face of Adversity (2024). He is also a cohost of the podcast “Physics to God” and the host of the podcast “Simply Deep.”
CLUES IN THE TEXT REVEAL MYSTERIES
All books depict history, facts, theories, fiction or poetry. No book is coded with hidden messages beyond the words or patterns revealing marvels. But the Bible (Torah) was written by God, and is “coded.” The order of verses, use of certain phrases, apparent contradictions and other Biblical patterns are pur poseful clues to God’s wisdom.
This book unveils those patterns and shares the hidden messages.
Dressed for the Road
Rabbi Reuven Mann
The Korban Pesach in Egypt: Unique Instructions and
Their
The instructions regarding the Korban Pesach (Passover Sacrifice) that Moshe conveyed to Am Yisrael (the Nation of Israel) in Mitzrayim (Egypt) contained this unusual requirement: “And so shall you eat it: your loins girded, your shoes on your feet, and your staff in your hand; you shall eat it in haste—it is a Pesach-Offering to Hashem” (Shemot 12:11). When the time came for Bnei Yisrael (the Children of Israel) to be redeemed from bondage, they were commanded to offer the Korban Pesach. This sacrifice was brought on the eve prior to their departure and eaten that very night. One of the unique aspects of the Mitzvah was the manner in which it was to be consumed. They were to eat it very quickly while fully dressed, as Rashi says, “ready for the road” with their walking sticks at hand and shoes donned. In general, we don’t eat that way, and, in fact, prefer casual attire, comfortable seating arrangements, and a leisurely pace, especially when we dine with family and friends. This strange manner of eating is in contradistinction to our yearly Seder experience, which requires us to recline in a comfortable fashion in order to demonstrate that we are free people. The necessity to be dressed for travel and to eat hurriedly requires elucidation. It is important to note that while in most ways the Pesach LeDorot (Annual Passover Sacrifice) was identical to the one brought on the eve of the Exodus (Pesach Mitzrayim), the manner of dress and hasty eating were mandated only on that initial occasion. In future years, the sacrificial meat along with the other items at the Seder were consumed while reclining and wearing ordinary holiday attire.
Assimilation and the Challenge of Idolatry
According to our Rabbis, Am Yisrael had become assimilated during their sojourn in Egypt, and many had adopted the paganistic religion of the Egyptians. Thus, the task was not only to liberate them from Pharaoh’s enslavement. Of even greater significance was the necessity of rescuing them from their cultural assimilation, which was marked by the worship of the deities of Egypt.
In order to qualify for the great Geulah (redemption), Bnei Yisrael had to “pull their hands away from idolatry and take for themselves a sheep of Mitzvah” (Rashi, Shemot 12:6). They had to cleanse themselves from the worship of idols, which in Egypt was represented by sheep. In fact, the Egyptians had a longstanding antipathy
for Am Yisrael because they were shepherds and were thus regarded as “exploiting” their deity. [It is interesting to note that subsequently the Christians accused and tortured the Jews for the alleged crime of afflicting their deity, Jesus.]
The process of weaning Bnei Yisrael away from the idolatry of Egypt began on the tenth of the month of Nisan, when they defied their pagan masters by setting aside a sheep for the purpose of slaughtering it on the fourteenth, as a sacrifice to Hashem. That which the Egyptians regarded as divine was killed and offered to the only True Divinity, Hashem. The results were the exact opposite of what the sheep-worshiping Egyptians would have expected: those who sacrificed the sheep were saved from the plague of the firstborn and included in the Exodus, while those who failed to perform the Mitzvah and did not place the blood on their doorposts were consumed along with the firstborn Egyptians.
In my opinion, the Mitzvah of Pesach Mitzrayim did not only address itself to Bnei Yisrael’s participation in the idolatry of Egypt, but to its underlying cause as well. The problem of assimilation existed even before Am Yisrael became a formal nation. This stemmed from their desire to be accepted by the societies around them and their willingness to sacrifice their religious principles to attain this.
In ancient Egypt, sheep were associated with deities like Amun, often depicted with a ram’s head, making Bnei Yisrael’s profession as shepherds particularly offensive to the Egyptians. This animosity against them stretched back to the time of Yosef, where we find that the Egyptians could not eat at the same table with the Ivrim (Hebrews) because, “the Egyptians could not bear to eat bread with the Ivrim, for it was an abomination to the Egyptians” (Bereishit 43:32). For the same reason, Yosef instructed his brothers to say to Pharaoh, “Your servants have been cattlemen from our youth till now, both we and our forefathers; so that you may be able to settle in the region of Goshen, since all shepherds are abhorrent to Egyptians” (Bereishit 46:34).
The Psychological Roots of Assimilation
It is reasonable to assume that the Hebrews experienced a certain discomfort in being despised by the Egyptian society. When Pharaoh’s persecution began to unfold, many of Bnei Yisrael might have believed that the deeper cause of his animosity stemmed from their identity as shepherds. This likely acted as a powerful motive for them to adopt the religious customs of Egypt, thinking that by engaging in acts of worship directed at
sheep, the hostility of the Egyptians would abate.
Certainly, this type of thinking has been espoused by many assimilationist Jews throughout history. Indeed, Theodore Herzl himself, founder of the Zionist movement, mistakenly believed that the problem of anti-Semitism could be eradicated if all the Jews would simply adopt Christianity. It was only when he realized the absurdity of this foolhardy notion that he decided that only by obtaining sovereignty in their own land would the hatred of the Jews terminate. (Der Judenstaat, The Jewish State, 1896)
[Note: This belief which was held by many Zionists has proven to be utterly false. Pathological hatred of Israel and all Jews is alive and well and steadily increasing throughout the world. Is there any solution to the ancient malady of Jew-hatred? It seems to me that this is a problem that will only be alleviated with the advent of the Messianic Era.]
The underlying basis of Bnei Yisrael’s descent into adopting the idolatry of Egypt was their desire to be approved by the host country in which they lived, and their sense that being shepherds made them detestable in the eyes of the Egyptians. In order for them to be worthy of redemption and acceptance of the Torah, they had to completely withdraw from idol worship and also uproot their pathological need for the approval of the Egyptians. This rejection of assimilation was further reinforced through the Mitzvah of eating the Korban Pesach, which served as a bold declaration of departure from Egypt.
The Role of the Plagues in Separation
A major objective of the plagues was to differentiate between Egypt and Am Yisrael. The Makkot (plagues) of Wild Beasts, Pestilence, Hail, and Darkness only affected the Egyptians and their animals, leaving Bnei Yisrael completely intact. For instance, during the declaration of the imminent arrival of the plague of wild beasts, Hashem declares, “On that day I shall separate the land of Goshen, where My people dwell, so that there will not be any swarms of beasts there; so that you will know that I am Hashem in the midst of the land. And I will make a distinction between My people and your people…” (Shemot 8:18-19). Through these acts, Hashem not only punished the Egyptians but also demonstrated that Bnei Yisrael was His favored nation.
[Note: Some commentators, such as Rashi and the Ramban (Nachmanides) assert that Bnei Yisrael were spared from all the Makkot
even in the cases where Scripture doesn’t mention this. However, others such as Rabbi Abraham Ibn Ezra maintain that they were exempted only in those instances mentioned in the Torah.]
The process of separation continued with the command to set aside the Passover Sheep on the tenth of Nisan. These actions were not done in secret, they boldly expressed the idea that Am Yisrael were no longer concerned about what the Egyptians thought of them; and the subsequent sacrifice was an open demonstration that they rejected Egypt’s deification of that animal.
Indeed, the plague of the firstborn in which Hashem “skipped over” the houses of Bnei Yisrael and visited destruction on the houses of the Egyptians was not only limited to people. The verse states, “I shall go through the land of Egypt on this night, and I shall strike every firstborn in the land of Egypt, from man to beast; and against all the gods of Egypt I shall meet out punishment—I am Hashem” (Shemot 12:12). Thus, not only did they witness the destruction of the Egyptian firstborn, but the complete dismantling of their idolatrous system.
What took place in Egypt was also intended to correct the false belief of Jews that the way to find favor with Gentiles is by relinquishing their Jewishness and copying the “Goyim” (Nations of the World). In total contradistinction to what one would have expected, as the suffering of Egypt increased under the force of the Makkot, the esteem that Moshe and his People held in the eyes of the Egyptians skyrocketed. This was a major cause of the unbounded generosity the Egyptians displayed when Bnei Yisrael issued their request for fine jewelry and clothing. As the verse says, “Hashem granted the people favor in the eyes of Egypt; moreover, the man Moshe was very great in the land of Egypt, in the eyes of the servants of Pharaoh and in the eyes of the people” (Shemot 11:3).
At first, even the leaders of Bnei Yisrael had been fearful of accompanying Moshe when he first went before Pharaoh. There, only he and his brother Aharon, stood before the king and conveyed the command of Hashem that he allow Am Yisrael (the Nation of Israel) to leave and serve Him in the Wilderness. Despite all of his resistance, Moshe never backed down and constantly warned him and Bnei Yisrael about their absolute need to heed the Will of Hashem.
The effect of Moshe’s complete adherence to Torah principles and his refusal to curry favor with idolators was that he—and by extension his nation—earned the extreme admiration of the servants of Pharaoh and the general populace. So much so, that they displayed unbelievable generosity in plying Bnei Yisrael with beautiful accessories to adorn
themselves with in their forthcoming holiday with Hashem in the Midbar (desert).
The Passover Meal: A Declaration of Departure
And that, I believe, provides the explanation of the requirement to eat the Passover lamb dressed for the road. The objective was to uproot their attachment to Mitzrayim (Egypt)—as if to declare, “I am no longer in this place, I am already on the road.” This signaled that they were not only prepared physically for the journey, but marked a shift in their mindset, as they began to see themselves as a free and distinct nation with a Divine mission.
Sometimes when a person is embarking on a journey, his bags are packed, and he is dressed and ready to go, but he grabs a quick bite to provide himself with strength for the journey. When Bnei Yisrael ate the Korban Pesach, they did not behave as they had previously, like Egyptians sitting comfortably in their own homeland, but rather, as strangers who had been there for a brief visit but were now finally ready to embark on the long-awaited journey that would take them to the land promised to them by Hashem. In subsequent years, when they were permanently settled in the land of Israel, they would eat the sacrifice in a reclining position, as free men living comfortably in the place where the Creator had destined them to be.
Enduring Lessons: Faith, Identity, and the Jewish Mission
The many lessons contained in the Passover Sacrifice are very relevant to Jewish life at all times. We must remove ourselves from all idolatrous tendencies. This goes beyond the primitive worship of false gods or material objects, such as the Egyptian deification of sheep. It also includes the “modern” belief in lucky charms and the slavish observance of foolish superstitions. We must place our faith exclusively in Hashem and worship and pray to Him alone. In addition, we need to free ourselves of an inferiority complex which causes us to hide our Jewishness and copy the customs and values of those who walk in darkness.
On Passover, we celebrate not just the physical emancipation from the bondage of Pharaoh. Of even greater significance is the spiritual liberation that Hashem granted us by giving us His Torah, and choosing us to be His Chosen People. Let us rejoice in the mission we have been given to be a “Kingdom of Kohanim and a Holy Nation” (Shemot 19:6).
May Hashem assist us to attain this exalted goal. Chag Pesach Kasher VeSameiach. ■
personally exited the subjugation”, based on one verse. Then he says this again, “as if you yourself had been a slave and came out to freedom” based on other verses. How do we explain this apparent redundancy?
“In every generation” teaches that one might assume that in a poor generation, one is not obligated to display that, “he himself had exited the subjugation of Egypt.” However, with “In every generation,” Maimonides teaches that regardless of the social situation, this mitzvah remains is intact. This is the meaning of the V’hi She’amdah.
And it is this that has stood for our forefathers and for us; since it is not one alone that has stood [against] us to destroy us, but rather in each generation, they stand [against] us to destroy us, but the Holy One, blessed be He, rescues us from their hands (Hagaddah).
“In each generation” is the operative phrase. If we live in oppressive times, “God rescues us from their hands.” Thus, we view ourselves as beneficiaries of God’s Egyptian Exodus, despite our current social predicament. Maimonides teaches the following:
The reciting of a certain portion of the Law when the first-fruits are brought to the temple, tends also to create humility.
case—fall into the vices of insolence and haughtiness, and abandon all good principles. (Guide, book III, chap. xxxix)
[Returning to the question of redundancy]
This mitzvah of feeling as though we were freed has 2 expressions. The fundamental mitzvah is “Remember that you were a slave.” This mitzvah of “remembering” is expressed internally. But external communication is also required, that is “And He took us out from there, etc.” Here, one is addressing an “audience,” this is part of “Liharos.” This is what Maimonides means with, “one must display himself as if he personally exited the subjugation of Egypt.” “Display” refers to communication. Thus, one must experience God’s freedom from Egypt internally, and he also must communicate it. Liharos demonstrates that external communication.
[Thus, with this halachic formulation of 2 expressions, Maimonides teaches that one’s “display” at Seder is not a primary mitzvah, but forms an external communicative expression if the primary internal mitzvah, “Remember that you were a slave.” An internal experience precedes an external expression; it is primary.] ■
PASSOVER
Significance of Bread
RABBI MOSHE BEN-CHAIM
When studying Passover (Exod. 12), we note its distinction from the other holidays: Passover was celebrated in Egypt. That is, its commands existed even prior to the Torah. Today, we reenact those commands in the form of the shank bone, matza, bitter herbs, and other laws. Succos and Shavuos are commemorations of God’s kindness to us. Passover is as well, but it differs from the other holidays with our pre-Torah Passover observance in Egypt. Additionally, our adherence to God’s commands in Egypt contributed to the holiday’s structure: there is only one Succos holiday and one Shavuos. But there are two Passovers: the Passover of Egypt, and all subsequent Passovers. What may we learn from its distinction from the other two holidays? What differences exist between the Passover of Egypt, and our Passover?
Reading the Haggadah, we note a conflict in the identity of the matza. The Haggadah commences by describing the matza as “lachma anya”—poor man’s bread. The Jews were fed this bread during their Egyptian bondage. However, later on, the Haggadah, quoting the Talmud Pesachim 116b states that matza is commanded in memory of the dough which did not rise due to the Egyptians’ swift, panic-stricken oust of the Jews. (After the Death of Firstborns, the Egyptians panicked, “We are all dead!”) We are obligated by Torah law to recall God’s swift salvation by eating the matza. The Jews were driven out from the Egyptian city Raamses, and arrived at Succot. When the Jews
arrived, they were able to bake that dough only into matza—not bread—for the hastened exodus retarded the leavening process. The matza serves as a barometer of the speed by which God freed the Jews. Was this matza part of God’s orchestrated events? Did God desire this barometer in the form of matza?
We should note at this point that the Jews in Egypt observed only one day of Passover (R. Yossi HaGalili, Jer. Talmud 14a). The Torah laws describing those Jews’ obligation also appear to exclude any restriction of eating leaven. Certainly on the morrow of the Egyptian Passover, the Jews were permitted to eat leaven. Rabbeinu Nissim comments that it was only due to the rush of the Egyptians that their loaves were retarded in their leavening process. Had the Egyptians not rushed them, the Jews would have created bread for there was no prohibition on bread at that point. But for which reason are we “commanded” in matza? The Haggada text clearly states it is based on the dough which did not rise during the Exodus. Thus, matza demonstrates salvation, the focus of the Passover holiday, posing this serious problem: not only do later generations have the command of eating matza, but the Jews in Egypt were also commanded in eating the Lamb with matza, (and maror). Now, if while still in Egypt, when there was yet no “swift salvation”, why were those Jews commanded in this matza? How can Jews in Egypt, not yet redeemed, commemorate a Redemption, which did not yet happen?! It is true: the Jews ate matza while slaves. However, the Haggada says the “command” of eating matza was only due to the speedy salvation. This implies that the Jews in Egypt who also had the command of matza, were obligated for the same reason, which is incomprehensible.
The Torah spends much time discussing the dough, and oddly, also refers to it in the singular, “And the people lifted up (carried) HIS loaf from the kneading troughs before it had risen, rolled up in their garments, placed on their shoulders” (Exod. 12:34). “And they baked THE loaf” (Exod. 12:39).” Why this singular reference to numerous loaves? Why so much discussion about the loaf? And why did the Jews “roll up the loaf in their garments, placing on their shoulders”? This is significant, as God records this. Finally, Rashi praises the Jews for not taking any provisions when they left: “And they baked the loaf they took out of Egypt into cakes of matza, because it did not leaven, because they were driven from Egypt, and they could not tarry, and also provisions they did not make for themselves” (Exod. 12:39). Rashi says the fact they did not take provisions demonstrated their trust that God would provide. If so, why in the very same verse,
did the Jews bake the dough? This implies the exact opposite of Rashi’s intent, that the Jews did in fact distrust God! It is startling that a contradiction to Rashi is derived from the very same verse. In order to answer these questions, it is essential to gain some background.
The Egyptians originated bread. The Egyptian taskmasters ate their bread, as their Jewish slaves gaped enviously, breaking their teeth on dry matza, or “poor man’s bread”—a relative term: “poor” is in comparison to something richer. “Poor man’s bread” teaches that there was a “richer bread” in Egypt: soft bread, which the Egyptians enjoyed while feeding their Jewish slaves matza. Let us now understand Rashi’s comment. He said the Jews were praiseworthy as they did not take food with them upon their exodus. Thereby, they displayed a trust in God’s ability to provide food. But we noted that in the very same verse where Rashi derives praise for the Jews, whom Rashi said took no food, it clearly states they in fact took the loaves! Rashi’s source seems internally contradictory. I would suggest that a new attitude prevailed among the Jews.
The Significance of Bread
The Jews did not take that loaf from Egypt for the purpose of consumption. This is Rashi’s point. The Jews took the loaf because of what it represented: freedom. They were fed matza for the duration of their 210-year bondage. They were now free. They cherished this freedom and longed to express it. Baking bread instead of dry, poor man’s matza was this expression of freedom. They now wished to be like their previous taskmasters: “bread eaters.” A free people. Baking and eating bread was the very distinction between slave and master in Egypt. The Jews wished to shed their identity as slaves and display their freedom. Baking and eating bread would achieve this. To further prove that the Jews valued such identification with the Egyptians, Rashi comments that when the Jews despoiled the Egyptians at Moses’ command, “they valued the Egyptian clothing more than the silver and gold” (Exodus 12:35).
The Jews’ attachment to bread is made clear in two glaring details: “And the people lifted up (carried) his loaf from the kneading troughs before it had risen, rolled up in their garments, placed on their shoulders” (Exod. 12:34).
The Torah records a strange act: the Jews carried this loaf in their garments, not in a bag or a sack. Additionally, they placed it on their shoulders. “The suit makes the man.” In other words, as clothing is man’s expression of his identity, the
Jews placed in their clothes the dough intended to be come free man’s bread. They expressed this link between clothing (identity) and the dough. Furthermore, they carried it on their shoulders, as a badge of sorts. They did not pack the dough away. It was a prized entity they wished to display, forming part of their dress.
Torah records these details as they are significant of the problem God was addressing. “Rolled up in their garments, placed on their shoulders” are intentionally recorded in the Torah to reveal the Jew’s value of bread as a medallion of freedom.
Freedom is Not Inherently Good
However, the Jews had the wrong idea. Their newfound freedom was not intended by God to be unrestricted as they wished to express. They were freed, but for a new purpose: receiving His Torah and following it. Had they been allowed to indulge freedom unrestrained, expressed by eating leavened bread, this would corrupt God’s plan that they serve Him. Freedom and servitude to God are mutually exclusive. Therefore, God did not allow the dough to rise. They trusted God, they saw all the miracles. They needed no food for their journey, as God would provide. But they took the dough in hopes of making that “free man’s food”: leavened bread. The dough was not taken for subsistence, but to symbolize their freedom. They hoped upon reaching their destination, to bake bread, expressing their own idea of freedom. But the verse says the dough only became matza, not their intended leavened end-product. Matza was a mere result of a hurried exodus. Matza was so significant, that the Torah recorded this “event” of their failed bread making. They planned to bake bread, but it ended up matza. Torah teaches that matza was not the Jews’ plan. It points out through inference that they desired leavened bread. It also teaches that bread was not desired so much for subsistence, as they verse ends, “and provisions they made not for themselves” (Exod. 12:39). They did not prepare food, as they relied on God. This is Rashi’s point. The dough they took was not for provisions; it was to express unrestricted freedom. This unrestricted freedom is a direct contradiction to God’s plan that they serve Him. The Jews were now excited at the prospect of complete freedom. God’s plan could not tolerate the Jews’ wish. God desired the Jews to go from Egyptian servitude, to another servitude: adherence to God. He did not wish the Jews’ to experience or express unrestricted freedom, as the Jews wished. To demonstrate this, God retarded the dough from leavening. The matza they baked at Succot was not an accident, but God’s purposeful plan, that any expression of unrestricted freedom be thwarted.
One Act: Two Goals
Matza does not only recall God’s swift salvation, but it also represents Egyptian servitude. In the precise activity that the Jews wished to express unrestricted freedom (baking bread), God stepped in with one action serving two major objectives. Causing a swift ousting of the Jews, God did not allow the dough to rise. God did not allow the Jews to enjoy leavened bread, which would embody unrestricted freedom. But even more amazing is that with one action of a speedy redemption, God not only restricted the dough’s process, but God became the Jews’ savior. He replaced the Jews’ intended, unrestricted freedom with the correct purpose of their salvation: to be indebted to God. The one act—God’s swift Exodus—prevented the wrong idea of freedom from being realized, and also instilled in the Jews the right idea: they were now indebted to God, their Savior. They were not left to unrestricted freedom, but were now bound to God by His new act of kindness. An astonishing point.
Gratitude
We return to the command to eat matza in Egypt. Obviously, this command could not commemorate a future event. God commanded them to eat the matza for what it did represent: servitude. While in Egypt, why did God wish the Jews to be mindful of servitude? Here I feel we arrive at another basic theme of the Passover holiday: contrast between servitude and freedom. In Pesachim 116a, the Talmud records a mishna, which states that our transmission of the Haggadah must commence with our degradation, and conclude with praise. We therefore discuss our servitude or our ancestor’s idolatrous practices, and conclude with our salvation and praise for God. We do this, as such a contrast engenders a true appreciation for God’s salvation. Perhaps also the two Passover holidays—in Egypt and today—embody this concept of our salvation. A central goal of Passover is to arrive at an appreciation for God’s redemption. A contrast between our Egyptian Passover and today’s Passover best engender such appreciation. It compares our previous bondage to our current freedom. Perhaps for this reason we are also commanded to view ourselves as if we left Egypt. So, in Egypt, we ate matza representing Egyptian servitude. Today we eat it as the Haggadah says, to recall the swift salvation, which retarded the leavening process, creating matza. We end up with a comparison between Passover of Egypt, and today’s Passover: servitude versus salvation. The emergence of the Jewish people was on Passover. We have two Passovers, displaying the concept of a transition, a before and an after.
An interesting and subtle point is that God mimicked the matza of servitude. He orchestrated the salvation around matza. Why? Perhaps as matza in its original form in Egypt embodied servitude, God wished that servitude be the continued theme of Passover. He therefore centered the salvation on the dough, which eventuated in matza; thereby teaching that we are to be slaves to God: “You are my slaves” (Lev. 25:55). Torah clearly views man’s relationship to God as a servant.
With this understanding of the significance of leavened bread, we understand why the Torah refers to all the Jews’ loaves in the singular. The Jews shared one common desire: to express their freedom by eating what their free oppressors ate. However, contrary to human feelings, “unrestricted freedom” is an evil…odd as it sounds. God’s plan in creating man was to direct us all in understanding and delighting in the truth of God, His role as the exclusive Creator, the One who manages man’s affairs, and Who is omnipotent (Ramban, Exod. 13:16). God had a purpose in creating man, and it is not to be free and live as we wish (Deut. 29:18 rebukes those who do). Our purpose is to engage the one faculty granted to us and no other creation: our intellect. And the primary use of the intellect is forfeited when we do not recognize God, as the Egyptians displayed. Therefore, God freed us so we may enter a new servitude: serving Him. But this service of God should not be viewed as a negative, as in serving man. Serving God is achieved by studying Him, His Torah and creation: a truly happy and beautiful life. We could equate the enjoyment and benefit in serving God to serving a human master who gives us gold if we simply look for it. So too is the service of God. If we merely learn and seek new ideas, He will open new vaults of wisdom. We are so fortunate.
Finally, what is the significance of chametz, leaven? Once leavened bread took on the role of freedom with no connection to God, leaven thereby took on a character that opposes the very salvation, demonstrated by the matza. This explains that leaven was not mentioned in connection with the instructions pertaining to the original Egyptian Paschal lamb. The Jews had not yet displayed any attachment to bread. Only subsequent to the first Passover celebration do we see the Jews’ problematic tie to leavened bread. Therefore, only afterwards is there any prohibition on bread. ■
Our traditional Passover issue with imagery for your children.
