Pesach

In the Pesach seder we read each year, “In every generation a person should see themselves as if they were personally liberated from Egypt.” This is a powerful phrase and idea on many levels.

1.  Pathos.  A Jews we should never be so callous as to dismiss the pain others have experienced. When we become inured to the cries of the hopeless we are the ones lost.

2.   The Nation. We are not alone but part of the nation of Israel.  All across the globe Jews were breaking the middle matzah, saying the same blessings and reminding themselves that they are part of a single fabric of which we all form an integral part.  We see ourselves as kin, redeemed at the same moment.  We breathe life into one another.

3.  The Individual.  It is up to us to be aware that Egypt and slavery and ultimately redemption are the goals of Pesach.  As Jews, we feel with our soul the timelessness of the pain and suffering of the past.   It is said that every soul was enslaved, redeemed and present at Mt Sinai.  It is part of our collective unconscious.  You were there.

4.  Redemption.  Our lives cry out for liberation from personal enslavement.  Perhaps we are in the grip of addiction, or ignoring those who are addicted; maybe we need release from holding others as hostages to our ego; perhaps we are guilty of hoarding and not sharing what God has given us. Perhaps we are ashamed of what we have become.  This day is an opening, an opportunity for liberation.

In this, the last day of Pesach I wish you the strength and determination to make you and your ancestors proud and God beam with naches.  May this be His will. Amen.

D'var Aher

"Once, when Joshua was near Jericho, he looked up and saw a man standing before him, drawn sword in hand. Joshua went up to him [not realizing he was an angel] and asked: 'Are you one of us or are you for the enemies?' 

He replied: 'No, I am the captain of the Lord's host. Now I have come ' Joshua threw himself face down to the ground, and prostrating himself, said to him: 'What does my Lord command his servant?' The captain of the Lord's host answered Joshua: 'Remove your sandals from your feet, for the place where you stand is holy ' And Joshua did so." (5:13-15)

On Pesach we tell of rabbis debating past late at night and into the early hours in Bene Brak. We tell of four children with significantly different attitudes.  We bring together disparate ideas about necessity of making peace while recalling the Angel of Death.

Most tellingly, we gather together to strangers, friends and family to reconvene and remind ourselves that no matter our ideas about politics, Israel, and personal preferences about life, that we are one people.

Not everyone with whom we disagree is an enemy.  They may even be an agent of God.  In fact, there are tzaddikim (and even regular folks!) who believe that everyone is part of the woven tapestry that God holds as precious.  Each of us is a thread in that great tapestry.  We are different colors and striations.  Each thread is necessary.  Take one out and the entire picture undone.  

That is why Pesach is such a vital holy day. Besides celebrating our freedom and God’s deliverance we come together as one extended family.  

Sit down. Lean left.  Remove your shoes.  This is holy ground.  And God smiles.

D'var Aher

It is abundantly clear from the Haggadda: Every person is obligated to view themselves "as if" they had gone from Egypt.

How often in the Torah are we asked to imagine, “as if”? Can you think of any instances? One of the few times in Torah that the term is used is when God tells Abram that he gives the patriarch the great land of Israel. 1 Rashi, knowing that the gift would not be actually given to Abram until many, many years later, interprets the words of God “as if” the land were his now. In other words, Abram was supposed to imagine his gift, even though it had not yet arrived.

Few are the places where Judaism ever commands us to 'feel' anything. Mitzvot tend to regulate behavior, not thoughts and mind-sets. Laws are needed for the governance of a society. It does not really matter whether we agree with them or not. What is important is that we have laws. That is why Rabbi Hanina, of the second century, said that without laws, people would each other alive. 2 But what about feeling? Is this really necessary for a society to function? Does it matter at all what a person feels as long as they follow the law?

There is an argument in the Talmud over which idea ought to take precedence when teaching people: action or study. 3 Which of the two ideas is greater? If a person can only choose one of them, study or observance, which should they choose? In the ultimate analysis, the Sages decide that study takes precedence over action because it can lead to action while the reverse may not be true.

Then why is so little emphasis placed on feeling? If the rabbis believed that study is greater, why would they not also take the position that feeling is also a powerful spur to action? Isn't feeling also a powerful incentive to practice mitzvot?

Sure, we are commanded by the Torah to 'love' God. Love is an emotion, a feeling. What about the other feelings that should accompany our actions? Shouldn't we be expected to invest emotional energy into our performance of mitzvot?

Could it be that actions, mitzvot, leads to feelings? And not the other way around? Or perhaps were the Sages concerned that if we placed too much importance on the way people feel they would probably place the emphasis on intent over the Word of the Holy One? Maybe they would be prone to dismiss the power of observance in favor of feeling? That would be tragic.

Pesach is an exception. Here we are commanded to feel. Rambam goes so far as to instruct us that we must experience the immediate sensation of fleeing from the clutches of slavery. 4 The seder is not a bland ceremony, the master tells us, but an emotional call to feel the shame of the slavery, the power of deliverance, and the majesty of the miraculous departure.


Whenever we recite the Hallel psalms in a religious setting they are introduced with a blessing. The only exception is the Pesach seder. During the seder we simply sing as we segue from the words of the Haggadda to the inspiring words of King David. So why do we not say a blessing? Why do we just burst into song?

Teaches Rav Hai Gaon, we do not say a blessing for this Hallel because we throw ourselves soulfully into the joy of song. Pesach is meant to be an inspired moment. We sing to God of deliverance. We sing to God of rescue. We sing to God in amazement that the slavery has ended and we are free.

Perhaps after we have realized the fundamental principles of Pesach, after the long hours of scrubbing, covering, cooking, and entertaining we can open our hearts and simply sing. That would be a great thing. At that moment our souls can reach the highest levels of spirituality. "As if" becomes the reality of liberation. More, it becomes the nexus that brings us true freedom. Each Jew must feel "as if" they had been personally delivered from bondage.

Albert Einstein said, “Imagination is more important than knowledge.” For us, on Pesach, feeling is the ultimate triumph.


1 Genesis 15:18
2 Pirkay Avot 3:2
3 Yevamot 109b
4 Hilchot Hametz U’Matzah