why hashkiveinu is not a hefsek between geulah and tefilah

The parsha tells us וְלֹֽא־יִֽהְיֶ֨ה בָכֶ֥ם נֶ֙גֶף֙ לְמַשְׁחִ֔ית בְּהַכֹּתִ֖י בְּאֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרָֽיִם׃ (12:13).  Hashem reassured Bn"Y that they would not be affected by makkas bechoros.  Seforno explains: 

 שמלבד מכת הבכורות שלח בשאר העם ״עברה וזעם וצרה משלחת מלאכי רעים״ (תהלים ע״ח:מ״ט). כי לולא הפסיחה שעשה בחמלתו על ישראל לא היו נמלטים משאר הצרות ששלח על שארית עם מצרים, כענין ״פן תספה בעון העיר״ 

I don't understand the distinction he is drawing. It sounds like there was no danger from the makkah itself, but there was other dangers of עברה וזעם וצרה משלחת מלאכי רעים.  Why should the principle of פן תספה בעון העיר apply to the latter and not the former?  

Be that as it may, the fact that Bn"Y were in fear of being affected has a nafka mina l'halacha.  O.C. 236 M"B 3 quoting Talmidei R"Y on why the bracha of hashkiveinu is not an interruption between geulah (the bracha of ga'al yisrael) and shmoneh esrei:

ואע"ג דקי"ל דצריך לסמוך גאולה לתפלה אף בערבית וכדלקמיה בס"ב מ"מ השכיבנו לא הוי הפסק דכגאולה אריכתא דמיא [גמרא] וכתבו בתר"י הטעם דכשעבר ה' לנגוף את מצרים היו ישראל מפחדים ומתפללים להש"י שיקיים דברו שלא יתן המשחית לבא אל בתיהם לנגוף וכנגד אותה תפלה תקנו לומר השכיבנו הלכך מעין גאולה היא

all about the attitude

In the opening of our parsha Moshe appears before Pharoah and says in the name of Hashem עַד־מָתַ֣י מֵאַ֔נְתָּ לֵעָנֹ֖ת מִפָּנָ֑י שַׁלַּ֥ח עַמִּ֖י וְיַֽעַבְדֻֽנִי׃.  Rashi explains לענות – כתרגומו: לאתכנעא, והוא מגזרת עני, מאנת להיות עני ושפל מפני.  Hashem is asking Pharoah why he refuses to humble himself before Him and free Bnei Yisrael.

The question at first glance seems strange.  Just 2 pesukim earlier we read that Hashem told Moshe  בֹּ֖א אֶל־פַּרְעֹ֑ה כִּֽי־אֲנִ֞י הִכְבַּ֤דְתִּי אֶת־לִבּוֹ֙ וְאֶת־לֵ֣ב עֲבָדָ֔יו לְמַ֗עַן שִׁתִ֛י אֹתֹתַ֥י אֵ֖לֶּה בְּקִרְבּֽוֹ׃.  Pharoah's heart was hardened by Hashem to prevent him from giving in so that Hashem could demonstate his might by bringing the makkos.  How can G-d take Pharoah to task for מֵאַ֔נְתָּ לֵעָנֹ֖ת מִפָּנָ֑י when Hashem is the one hardening his heart and preventing him from doing so?

The gemara (San 102) writes that Rav Ashi once flippantly told the talmidim that the next day he was going to give a shiur about "Menashe our friend," meaning King Menashe.  That night Menashe appeared to Rav Ashi in a dream to put him in his place, and he said to him, "I'm not your friend and I'm not your father's friend.  You don't even know even a basic halacha like where a loaf of bread should be cut when you say ha'motzi."  Rav Ashi then asked him to explain that halacha, and said he would say it over in King Menashe's name in the shiur.  Then Rav Ashi asked the 64 million dollar question and said, "Menashe, if you're so smart, why were you an oveid avodah zarah?"  To which Menashe answered, "Had you been alive when I was, you would have lifted your frock up so that you could run faster to get to the avodah zarah and worship it."  Meaning, the yetzer for idolatry was so strong there was no escaping it.

Why Menashe chose this particular question of where to slice bread for ha'motzi from to prove Rav Ashi's ignorance is a question for another time.  I want to focus on the last line about Rav Ashi lifting up his frock so he won't trip and be able to run faster.  What did Menashe mean by that?  Maharal (Netzach Yisrael ch 3, see Michtav m'Eliyahu vol 4 p 135) explains as follows: you can have an addict who knows what he is doing is bad but can't stop it, and you have an addict who is so entrenched in the addiction that he does not even recognize it as a bad thing.  Let's say someone just loves chocolate cake and can't resist it when he sees it in the store even though he is overweight and has high cholesterol.  If the person recognizes intellectually that it's bad for him, when the store is out of chocolate cake he says, "Baruch Hashem," and breathes a sigh of relief because he knows that he now will be doing the right thing.  However, if the person does not even recognize that he is eating what he shouldn't be eating, he gets frustrated, he will run to the next store, etc. because to him, eating chocolate cake is a good thing, it's like a mitzvah.  Menashe was telling Rav Ashi that in his generation, they knew avodah zarah was bad.  Their seichel stood in the way of temptation, but temptation was just too strong and they ended upgiving in.  However, said Menashe, had you been in my shoes, you would run after the avodah zarah, meaning there would be nothing blocking you, there would be no check on temptation because you would not even recognize it as wrong -- aderaba, you would rush to do it like it was a mitzvah.  

True, Hashem hardened Pharoah's heart and he could not help but keep Bn"Y enslaved.  It's like the addict who can't resist.  However, like the Maharal explained, there is the addict who knows it's wrong, and there is the addict who is happy to wallow in his addiction.  עַד־מָתַ֣י מֵאַ֔נְתָּ לֵעָנֹ֖ת מִפָּנָ֑י means, as Rashi explained, "Why have you not humbled yourself?"  True, Pharoah, you can't free Bn"Y yet, but you don't have to be b'simcha over that fact.  Aderaba, if you knew they should be free but just couldn't resist keeping them back, you would be humbled and contrite, upset at the state of affairs in which you find yourself.  It's Pharoah's attitude which Hashem here is criticizing (sefas Emes 5632).

Even when you have a good excuse for not doing doing a mitzvah or a chessed, or the right thing, whatever it is, there is not a good excuse for not feeling at least a little bit of sadness about it.  Ramban writes (Bamidbar 10:13) that Bn"Y ran away from Sinai, שנסעו מהר סיני בשמחה כתינוק הבורח מבית הספר, אמרו: שמא ירבה ויתן לנו מצות.  Mattan Torah was over; they were free to move on and travel -- but it should be done with some sadness.  On a Monday or Thursday if the gabai gives a klop and announces no tachanun, there doesn't have to be a cheer that goes up in shul (inwardly, if not outwardly.)  

It's all about the attitude. 

two elements of geirus

Rashi in parshas Bo quotes a hava amina that a ger should bring a korban pesach right after he converts and not wait until pesach.  A few weeks ago my son explained that we see from Rashi that the korban pesach in Mitzrayim was a kiyum not just of the pesach offering, but also a kiyum of a korban geirus, and therefore one could have a hava amina that every ger bring such a korban at the time of conversion.  Similarly, the milah done before pesach Mitzrayim was also a kiyum in geirus, as the mitzvah of milah itself had already been given to Avraham Avinu.

I was not so enamored with this idea.  The gemara learns the need for a korban for geirus from the korban offered at the time of mattan Torah (end of our parsha).  Tevilah and milah are also learned from mattan Torah.  Why would Klal Yisrael need another geirus at mattan Torah, I asked him, if they already had a geirus in Mitzrayim?

My attempt to answer my own question:

Usually a ger has milah first and then tevilah.  Ramban (Yevamos 47) holds that bdieved it can be done the other way around as well.  Both milah and tevilah are steps in the geirus process, and until both are complete, in whatever order, the geirus in incomplete.

Achronim ask: the gemara (Yevamos 97) writes that if a mother pregnant with twins converts, even though ger she'nisgayer is k'katan she'nolad and all former familiar relationships are null and void, her sons born as Jews are considered related as brothers and there would be an issue of eishes ach for one to marry the other's wife.  Why should this be true according to Ramban?  Even though the twins are yotzei tevilah of geirus in utero, they still need milah to complete their geirus.  8 days after they are born, when they have milah and become geirim, their relationship with each other should be void?

Similarly, the gemara (Bechoros 47) writes that if a pregnant woman converts, the baby is a bechor l'kohen.  According to Ramban, the baby is not even Jewish at birth!   Since milah is necessary for complete geirus, it is only on day 8 that the baby even becomes Jewish, and therefore should not be considered a bechor?

R' Naftali Trop (shiur on ger katan in Kesubos) answers that there are two stages of geirus.  Ramban does not mean that before milah the child is an aku"m.  The child is a member of the Jewish nation, he is related to his Jewish brother, he is a bechor l'kohen if he is the first baby to come out of his mother's womb.  However, the child lacks a kedushas yisrael.  That is missing without the added step of milah.  

How could there be geirus for children at mattan Torah when geirus requires daas and a katan has no daas?  The answer is that the children were already part of Klal Yisrael since they were bnei Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov.  What the geirus of mattan Torah added is the element of kedushas yisrael.  That extension of the geirus, of what it means to be part of Klal Yisrael, does not required additional daas or consent to be accepted.

I suggested to my son that perhaps this is why there was a to stage process of geirus, one in Mitzrayim and one at mattan Torah.  The first, in Mitzrayim, forged us into a nation.  The second, at mattan Torah, forged a kedushas yisrael, which is only possible through Torah.  Without that we might have been a distinct nation, separate from Mitzrayim, but we would have not been a holy nation.

geulah is a chok that defies reason

 מִשְׁכוּ וּקְחוּ לָכֶם צֹאן לְמִשְׁפְּחֹתֵיכֶם וְשַׁחֲטוּ הַפֶּסַח

Rashi comments משכו ידיכם מעבודה זרה וקחו לכם צאן של מצוה

R' Moshe Tzvi Neriah writes that you can learn two lessons from this Rashi.  We learn from Rashi 1) how difficult it is to break old habits and resist temptation, as a person can be on the cusp of geulah and still require warnings and admonishments not to engage in idolatry; 2) and we also learn that even though a person might still be steeped in and tempted by avodah zarah, he can still be worthy of redemption.

It's worth noting (see hesber of Shem m'Shmuel 5675) that when Hashem gave Moshe the command to offer korban Pesach, He said only וְיִקְח֣וּ לָהֶ֗ם אִ֛ישׁ שֶׂ֥ה לְבֵית־אָבֹ֖ת שֶׂ֥ה לַבָּֽיִת׃.  It is Moshe who added  מִשְׁכוּ, meaning משכו ידיכם מעבודה זרה, when he transmitted it to Bnei Yisrael.  

וּפָסַ֤ח ה׳ עַל־הַפֶּ֔תַח.  We know that Hashem says "pischu li pesach shel machat," just give me an opening the size of the eye of a needle, let me into your heart just a little bit, and I will open gates for you that you can drive an 18 wheel truck through.  Sometimes, though, even an opening the size of the eye of a needle is too much to ask for.  וּפָסַ֤ח ה׳ עַל־הַפֶּ֔תַח, Hashem overlooked the need even for that smallest opening.  Hashem himself did not ask for the משכו ידיכם מעבודה זרה.  This was the amazing thing about the geulah from Egypt.  It is moments before geulah and Moshe has to still tell people to give up their idolatry -- they still were not 100% committed to Hashem or bust -- and still, Hashem redeemed us.

After this command to take the korban and shecht it, the Torah goes on to speak about sprinkling the blood on the doorposts to protect against the malach ha'mashchis, and then ends the section  וּשְׁמַרְתֶּ֖ם אֶת־הַדָּבָ֣ר הַזֶּ֑ה לְחׇק־לְךָ֥ וּלְבָנֶ֖יךָ עַד־עוֹלָֽם.  Ramban and Ibn Ezra are bothered by the fact that this sprinking of the blood on the doorpost is not a mitzvah l'doros.  Where is the חׇק־לְךָ֥ וּלְבָנֶ֖יךָ עַד־עוֹלָֽם?  

(R' Berel Povarsky in his Bad Kodesh writes that there are 2 dinim in the zerikas ha'dam on the doorposts: 1) a unique din by pesach Mitzrayim that there had to be blood there to protect the house; 2) a din zerikas ha'dam like any other korban, as the doorpost was a substitute for the mizbeiach.  Nafka minah: if a person had multiple dwellings, then m'din zerikas ha'dam of the korban, he fulfilled the mitzvah as soon as he put the blood one one house and the korban is became permissible to eat, but m'din having blood on each doorpost of a home that needed protection, he needed to paint the doorposts of the other homes as well.  If so, maybe שְׁמַרְתֶּ֖ם אֶת־הַדָּבָ֣ר הַזֶּ֑ה לְחׇק־לְךָ֥ וּלְבָנֶ֖יךָ עַד־עוֹלָֽם is talking about the regular din zerikas ha'dam that applies l'doros by other korbanos.  Still a bit of a dochak.)

Ramban answers that you have to explain that this concluding pasuk is speaking only about taking and shechting the korban that had appeared earlier.  R' Shimon Sofer, however, explains that it is talking about the sprinkling of the blood.  "Halalu ovzei avodah zarah v'halalu ovdei avodah zarah," Bnei Yisrael had no merits to speak of to earn geulah.  How does a little blood on the doorpost warrant protection from the malach ha'mashchis when you have nothing else going for you?  The answer is that that's the  חׇק־לְךָ֥ וּלְבָנֶ֖יךָ עַד־עוֹלָֽם.  Geulah is a chok without reason.  There is no logic to explain how a person can still need a warning not to be an oveid avodah zarah and merit geulah, but that's how Hashem decided to make things happen.

There is perhaps another element as to why Moshe added the word מִשְׁכוּ here, which also connects to the idea of this parsha being לְחׇק־לְךָ֥ וּלְבָנֶ֖יךָ עַד־עוֹלָֽם something that should be transmitted for eternity.  Netziv comments as follows:

אבל לפי הפשט, באשר המצוה בפרשה הקודמת נאמרה לכל ישראל ליקח שה לבית אב, והיתה הדעת נותנת שיטפלו בזה האנשים הפשוטים בבית אב מי שרגיל למשוך טלה לשחיטה ולהפשיט, ולא מי שהוא גדול בבית אב ואין עסקו בכך, על כן קרא משה לזקני הדור והזהירם ביחוד ״משכו״ — אתם ״וקחו לכם צאן למשפחותיכם״ — בשביל כל המשפחה תהיו אתם המתעסקים בזה.

Had we just been given Hashem's command, we would have assumed that it should be the shleppers who do menial work who should go out and get the sheep and slaughter and butcher them.  Shlucho shel adam k'moso, so let them do the dirty work for us.  Moshe therefore added in his instructions מִשְׁכוּ וּקְחוּ לָכֶם, this is something you have to do for yourselves, not leave to the shleppers.  The mitzvah needs your hands-on from the first steps.

Why this should be the case is what the Torah is telling us in that last pasuk of שְׁמַרְתֶּ֖ם אֶת־הַדָּבָ֣ר הַזֶּ֑ה לְחׇק־לְךָ֥ וּלְבָנֶ֖יךָ עַד־עוֹלָֽם. No one in the household pays much attention to what the shlepper does, what the maid does, what the nanny does.  They are there to free up our time so we can carry on with the important things of life.  The Torah is telling us that if you want a mitzvah to be something your children take note of, something they will pass on to their children, then you can't delegate it -- you have to treat it like one of those important things in life, things that you make sure to take care of yourself.  

mi va'mi ha'holchim -- sustaining growth

R' Simcha Bunim Sofer quotes a Midrash (which I haven't found, so pls enlighten me if you can locate it) on Pharoah's question (10:8) to Moshe  מִ֥י וָמִ֖י הַהֹלְכִֽים -- why the double מִ֥י וָמִ֖י (see Kli Yakar as well)?  The Midrash comments that Pharoah challenged Moshe's request as unreasonable given that in the future Bnei Yisrael will one day say מי יעלה לנו בהר ה׳ ומי יקום במקום קדשׁו

What's the connection?

My chavrusa once prepared a whole shiur on this idea of "Mi yaaleh... u'mi yakum."  Ascending the mountain is a great achievement, but even harder than making it to the top is sustaining yourself there.  I remember as a teenager in camp that there was someone who went min ha'katzeh el ha'katzeh, what today people call flipping out.  This guy gave up all his hobbies, all his outside interests, switched his wardrobe to dress pants and white shirts, and went from a background of next to no exposure to learning to doing nothing but learning.  It lasted about a year or two, and then he fell back to his old self just as fast as his meteoric rise.  There are a lot of people like that, people who get the mi yaaleh part, but then fail in the mi yakum.  It's like people who go on these crash diets for a few weeks and lose a ton of weight, but then turn into a balloon again as soon as the diet is over.  There is no mi yakum because they focused on the goal of shedding pounds quickly, but not on developing good eating habits that can make the weight loss sustainable.  A person needs to go step by step, to grow gradually and adjust and accommodate to each level before trying to climb higher or it will not last.

This was Pharoah's argument.  "Lchu na ha'gevarim," let those who are giborim=koveish es yitzro, those who have shown themselves already to be religiously committed, those who have been on top of the mountain for awhile, leave Egypt to serve G-d.  But how can you demand that everyone, even those who, until Moshe started making demands, are no different than their Egyptian counterparts -- halalu ovdei avodah zarah v'halalu ovdei avodah zarah -- pick up suddenly and leave?  רְא֕וּ כִּ֥י רָעָ֖ה נֶ֥גֶד פְּנֵיכֶֽם -- they people are still attracted to רָעָ֖ה, their same old ways, their same old lifestyle.  Even if they go out and have a chag l'Hashem, it's a one time deal and they will quickly revert back to who they are now.  Moshe, you are asking for a מי יעלה without considering מי יקום, and it can't work.

Pharoah indeed had a point, as we see time and again from the rebelliousness of Bnei Yisrael in the midbar.  Yetzi'as Mitzrayim was a tremendous opportunity, as Hashem brought us up the ladder in one shot, על כנפי נשׁרים, but at the same time it was a tremendous challenge, as מי יעלה demands מי יקום or it is for naught.

issur melacha as a din in "mikra kodesh"

 An interesting chiddush din which Maharal derives from Rashi:

וּבַיּ֤וֹם הָרִאשׁוֹן֙ מִקְרָא־קֹ֔דֶשׁ וּבַיּוֹם֙ הַשְּׁבִיעִ֔י מִקְרָא־קֹ֖דֶשׁ יִהְיֶ֣ה לָכֶ֑ם כׇּל־מְלָאכָה֙ לֹא־יֵעָשֶׂ֣ה בָהֶ֔ם אַ֚ךְ אֲשֶׁ֣ר יֵאָכֵ֣ל לְכׇל־נֶ֔פֶשׁ ה֥וּא לְבַדּ֖וֹ יֵעָשֶׂ֥ה לָכֶֽם׃ (12:16)

Rashi comments: לא יעשה בהם – אפילו על ידי אחרים  

Ramban asks: who is the "acheirim" that Rashi is referring to?  If it is a Jew, then there already is an issur for that person to do melacha; if it is a nochri, then there is no issur d'oraysa of a nochri doing work for a Jew on Y"T or Shabbos, so that can't be what the pasuk is talking about.

Mizrachi answers that the "acheirim" here is a nochri and Rashi is just quoting an asmachta as pshat in the pasuk.  (The issue here may be whether asmachta is just a mnenomic device, or whether there is some connection between the din and the words of the pasuk.)  Maharal in Gur Aryeh, however, learns that "acheirim" is referring to a Jew.  Aside from the issur melacha of doing work yourself on Y"T, there is a separate issur of having a Jew do work on your behalf.  

Why should there be such an issur on Y"T and not on Shabbos?   R' Chaim Elazari explains that aside from the aspect of each individual not doing melacha and observing Shabbos and Y"T as a personal day of rest, Y"T has an additional element of being a "mikra kodesh."  Ramban in P' Emor (23:2) explains this term as meaning that Y"T is a day in which the tzibur gathers for tefilah and hallel and simcha -- it is a public holiday.  (It could be according to Ramban that tefilah b'tzibur on Y"T is a kiyum d'oraysa).    

What Rashi is telling us is that by having someone else do work, although you have not violated the personal aspect of resting on Y"T since you are not doing anything, you have violated the "mikra kodesh" aspect of the day by taking away from it being an all inclusive public celebration.

I don't understand R' Elazari's chiddush.  In the very Ramban he refers to, the Ramban writes with respect to Shabbos: שגם הוא יום מועד, נקרא אותו מקרא קדש,  According to Ramban, Shabbos is also called a mikra kodesh.  So hadra kushya l'duchta, why do we only find this din mentioned with respect to Y"T and not Shabbos?

if time allowed

  וַיֹּאפ֨וּ אֶת־הַבָּצֵ֜ק אֲשֶׁ֨ר הוֹצִ֧יאוּ מִמִּצְרַ֛יִם עֻגֹ֥ת מַצּ֖וֹת כִּ֣י לֹ֣א חָמֵ֑ץ כִּֽי־גֹרְשׁ֣וּ מִמִּצְרַ֗יִם וְלֹ֤א יָֽכְלוּ֙ לְהִתְמַהְמֵ֔הַּ וְגַם־צֵדָ֖ה לֹא־עָשׂ֥וּ לָהֶֽם

We read in the haggadah "Matzah zu she'anu ochlim al shum mah?" and the haggadah goes on to answer, as seems to be pshat in our pasuk (12:39), that the Egyptians were in such a rush to kick us out that they did not even give us time to bake bread for the road.

The Ran in Pesachim (25b in pages of RIF) infers a big chiddush from this statement.  The implication of the haggadah and of the pasuk is that had we had time, we could have baked bread even though it was Pesach -- no problem of bal yera'ah!   

Ramban explains the pasuk differently to avoid this conclusion:  

וטעם ויאפו את הבצק – שאפו אותו מצות מפני המצוה שנצטוו: שאור לא ימצא בבתיכם כי כל אוכל מחמצת ונכרתה

ואמר כי גורשו ממצרים – לומר שאפו אותו בדרך בעבור כי גורשו ממצרים ולא יכלו להתמהמה לאפות אותו בעיר, ולשאת אותו אפוי מצות, ועל כן נשאו אותו בצק ומשארותם צרורות בשמלותם על שכמם (שמות י״ב:ל״ד), ומהרו ואפו אותו טרם יחמץ בדרך או בסכות, כשבאו שם לשעה קלה כדברי רבותינו.

The pasuk speaks about the dough אֲשֶׁ֨ר הוֹצִ֧יאוּ מִמִּצְרַ֛יִם, which they took out of Egypt and baked into matzah on the road.  According to Ramban, two things the require explanation: 1) why they were eating matzah and not bread; 2) why they had to bake it on the road and not at home.  The answer to the first question, the pasul tells is,  is that כִּ֣י לֹ֣א חָמֵ֑ץ, because Hashem had prohibited chametz and commanded Bnei Yisrael to eat matzah.  The answer to the second question is that the Egyptians rushed them out, כִּֽי־גֹרְשׁ֣וּ מִמִּצְרַ֗יִם וְלֹ֤א יָֽכְלוּ֙ לְהִתְמַהְמֵ֔הַּ.  

The difficulty with the Ran (as the Tzlach points out) is that the Mishna (Pesachim 95) lists the differences between Pesach Mitzrayim and Pesach as celebrated in future years and absent from that list is the Ran's assumption that there was no prohibition of bal yera'eh on that first Pesach in Egypt.

The difficulty with Ramban is that the pshat may work well for the pasuk, but it does not fit the haggadah so well. "Matzah zu...al shum mah" sounds like we are offering an explanation for why we eat matzah, not just for why it was baked it on the road.   

k'zayis matzah -- shiur in the chiyuv or shiur in the kiyum mitzvah?

The Rambam (Chametz u'Matzah 6:1) formulates the mitzvah of achilas matzah as follows:

מצות עשה מן התורה לאכול מצה בליל חמשה עשר שנאמר בערב תאכלו מצות. בכל מקום ובכל זמן. ולא תלה אכילה זו בקרבן הפסח אלא זו מצוה בפני עצמה ומצותה כל הלילה. אבל בשאר הרגל אכילת מצה רשות רצה אוכל מצה רצה אוכל אורז או דוחן או קליות או פירות. אבל בליל חמשה עשר בלבד חובה ומשאכל כזית יצא ידי חובתו:

The Rambam could just as easily have said מצות עשה מן התורה לאכול **כזית** מצה בליל חמשה עשר Why the circuitous מצות עשה מן התורה לאכול מצה...משאכל כזית יצא ?

B'pashtus one would have thought that once you eat your kzayis of matzah, the mitzvah is over and if you continue stuffing your face, that's for your own pleasure alone.  But it seems from the Rambam (and this is also the opinion of Maharal in Gevuros Hashem ch 48) that that's not how it works.   There is a mitzvah to eat, period -- the more, the better.  Every additional bite is a kiyum.  If you want to do the minimum, then the Rambam at the end of the halacha tells us that you are yotzei with a k'zayis. 

The gemara (Pesachim 107) relates that Rava used to drink a lot of wine on erev pesach so that he would have an appetite to eat a lot of matzah during the night.  Rav Wahrman (She'eiris Yosef I:1) brings proof from this gemara to the Rambam's point.  Had the mitzvah been to eat a k'zayis, there would be no point to eating more.  

(Tos in Kiddushin 38 writes that you can't say aseh doche lo ta'aseh when eating a second k'zayis, but that's because dechiya depends on their being a chiyuv, not just a kiyum.)

The gemara (Sukkah 41) similarly writes that there were people who held their lulav and esrog all day, even while davening.  The gemara asks how that can be when there is an issur of holding things in your hand during tefilah, and the gemara answers that taking the lulav is different because it's a mitzvah.  Even though m'ikar ha'din a person is yotzei netilas lulav just by picking it up, we see from the gemara that that's just a minimum, like eating just a k'zayis of matzah, but if you do more, it also counts as a mitzvah.

The gemara (R"H 16) writes that we blow shofar during shmoneh esrei on R"H even though we already did the mitzvah before starting musaf in order to confuse the satan.  Rashi comments that by blowing extra times we demonstrate our love of the mitzvah.  In his sefer on chumash (shmos p50) Rav Noson Gestetner suggests that you see the same chidush from this Rashi.  Had there been a defined shiur beyond which there is no kiyum, by blowing extra kolos we would just be entertaining ourselves.  Rashi is telling us that the additional kolos are a mitzvah, as there is no maximum limit to "yom teru'ah."

Lma’an tisaper b’oznei bincha... vi’yedatem

"Lma’an tisaper b’oznei bincha u’ben bincha…  vi’yedatem ki ani Hashem"

 

Short of time this week but did not want to completely skip writing.  Two diyukim in the pasuk:

 

1) If the point of telling over the story is for the next generation -– bincha u’ben bincha –- to know what happened, then the pasuk should end off “v’yadu ki any Hashem” -– they will come to know Hashem.  Instead, the pasuk uses the term “yidatem,” which refers back to the speaker.

 

Oib es felt in hasbara is felt in havana.  If you cant explain something to someone else, then you really don’t understand it.  Having to explain something forces a person to define and crystalize their thoughts. 

 

You want to come to a better appreciation of yediyas Hashem yourself?  There is no better way to do so then by giving over the mesorah to your children.  You will sharpen your own beliefs, clarify your values, and come to a better yediyas Hashem yourself.

 

2) Why not just say "tisaper l'bincha" -- what's the extra word "b'oznei" doing there?  (Compare with next week's parsha where we read after the battle with Amalek that Moshe is told "sim b'oznei Yehoshua..." to remember the episode.)   

 

You can't whisper is someone's ear from a distance.  You have to be close to them. 

 

To give over the mesorah to your children you need to keep them close.  Torah is whispered in the ear, not shouted from far away.

teaching others for your own sake

The purpose of the makkos, says the Torah, is "l'ma'an tisaper b'oznei bincha u'ben bincha," so that we will relate what happened to our children and to our grandchildren, "v'yidatem ki ani Hashem," and to know that Hashem is the One in charge (10:2)  Seforno comments that "v'yidatem" means so that YOU should know, whereas the beginning of the pasuk, "l'ma'an tisaper," is speaking about what future generations will know. 

Isn't that backwards?  Shouldn't the "v'yidatem" come first, i.e. don't you need to understand the lesson yourself first, and then "l'ma'an tisaper," you can give it over to your children and their children?

The lesson here between the lines is that teaching our children Torah is not just something we need to do for their sake -- it's something we need to do for our OWN sake.  Teaching others is a tnai in our own understanding and yediya.  The best way to solidify your own beliefs is to express them and try to impress them upon others, especially those who matter most to you, like your own children. 

Moshe told Pharoah that the terrible plague of grasshoppers will be something that, "lo ra'u avosecha v'avos avosecha," the parents and grandparents of the Egyptian people had never before seen. (10:6)   Why didn't the Torah just say that there was never something like this before in Egypt?  Why stress specifically that their parents and grandparents had never seen anything like it?

The Sefas Emes (5644) quotes a Zohar that when a child gets married, even if c"v his/her parent has passed away and is in gan eden, the parent's neshoma is allowed to go down to the world to be at the chuppah with their child.  The same is true on the opposite side of the coin as well.  When the Egyptians were punished, the neshomos of their parents and grandparents were sent out of gehenom to be with their offspring on earth.  The parents and grandparents of the Egyptians had never seen such grasshoppers in their lifetime -- but now, they were going to see it.

Maybe this is also part of what the Torah is telling us by putting "v'yidatem ki ani Hashem" at the end.  A person may have already passed into the next world, but because they fulfilled "l'ma'an tisaper," because their children and grandchildren continue to grow in Torah, then through "b'ra mizakeh aba," they too are their vicariously sitting alongside their children and grandchildren in the beis medrash, reaping "v'yidatem ki ani Hashem" in greater measure.      

On a final note, last week I posted my wife's query whether a place that women meet in for davening has kedushas beis knesset.  Aruch haShulchan 154:7 writes:

 וכן בית הכנסת של נשים – יש עליה קדושת בית הכנסת, כיון שהנשים מתפללות שם.

ba'avur zeh

“V’higadta l’bincha bayom ha’hu leimor ba’avur zeh asah Hashem li b’tzeisi m’Mitzrayim.” There are two words that we use to mean because: ba’avur and biglal. What’s the difference between them? Ksav v’haKabbalah writes that biglal is used when a cause precedes an event: A occurred bigal B. Ba’avur anticipates some future outcome: A occurred ba’avur so that B will happen in the future. The freedom of yetziyas Mitzrayim is not an end in itself, but is just a means to some higher goal that will be achieved in the future, “ba’avur zeh.”

What is that “zeh?” He explains that the Torah uses zeh as an adjective to mean the pinnacle of greatness, the most exalted level of something. In Parhas Ki Tisa we read that Bnei Yisrael complain , “Ki zeh Moshe ha’ish lo yadanu meh ha’ya lo.” We all know the derash on “Zeh K’li v’anveyhu” about Bnei Yisrael kavyachol being able to point at G-d. The pshat is that K-li is “zeh,” the greatest, the most exalted. (See Menachos 43 for another example.) I didn’t go through all the places Ksav v’haKabbalah discusses this idea, but I was surprised that I didn’t yet find him applying it to another pasuk in our parsha: “Hachodesh hazeh lachem rosh chodashim…” The derash is that Hashem pointed to the molad to help Moshe understand, but I think the pshat is that the month of Nisan as a chashivus above and beyond all other months – it’s the best and greatest. Coming back to our pasuk, the purpose of yetziyas Mitzrayim is “zeh,” the greatest, most exalted thing. Ksav v’haKabbalah suggests that “zeh” used in that way refers to kabbalas haTorah.

“V’haya ki yomru Aleichem bneichem mah ha’avodah hazos lachem… vayikod ha’am vayishtachavu.” The Torah opens its description of this dialogue with one's children on Pesach night with the word “v’haya,” which is always a flag that tells us this is good news. Rashi writes that “vayikod… vayishtachavu” was an expression of thanksgiving. What are we so happy about and so grateful for? Chazal tell us that this parsha is speaking about the ben ha’rasha, the wicked son of the seder! What’s the big simcha about having a child that is OTD?

The Klausenberger rebbe answers that “ilu haya sham lo haya nigal,” as we read in the haggadah, but that’s exactly the point – he is not there; we are no longer there. We are not the same enslaved people we were. Kabbalas haTorah changed everything, as the transformative power of Torah has no limits. The idea that had BN”Y sunk to the 50th level of tumah they would have had no redemption, says Chasam Sofer, is true only before kabbalas haTorah. Post-Sinai, Torah can pull a person even out of that 50th level. Even if the child is a rasha, “v’amarten zevach Pesach hu,” speak words of Torah to him -- that will lead to his redemption.

Since it was a rough week and I don't have a lot to say let me share with you one other idea from the Kalusenberger: There is a strange bit of dialogue between Moshe and G-d at the burning bush. Moshe complains, “Mi anochi ki ailech el Pharoah v’ki oyzie es Bnei Yisrael m’Mitzrayim,” to which Hashem replies, “B’hotziacha es ha’am m’Mitzraayim ta’avdun es haElokim al ha’har ha’zeh.” How does G-d’s response address Moshe’s claim of unworthiness?

Rashi explains that the phrase “ki otzi es Bnei Yisrael” raised the question of what zechus BN”Y had to merit deliverance. The simple pshat is that Moshe was asking two part questions: 1) why me; 2) what merit does BN”Y have.  Hashem’s answer addressed that second question.  The Klausenberger learned it derech derush a little differently. Moshe was asking only one question: why me? Part two is his justification for that argument. Moshe said that the very fact that he was troubled by the question of what merit BN”Y had should automatically preclude him from being the go’el. A person who can see anything less than greatness in Klal Yisrael is unfit to be their leader.

why do the last three makkos get put in their own parsha?

1) The 10 makkos are split over two parshiyos: seven in Parshas Va'Eira, three in Parshas Bo.  Wouldn't it make more sense to read all 10 in one parsha?  Why do we split them?  

If you are a mystic, you will maybe answer that the makkos correspond to the sefiros, and the three sefiros of chabad that correspond to the final three makkos are qualitatively different than the other seven.  Kol ha'kavod if you understand what that means.  

The Ramban offers another answer.  He suggests that the function of the last three makkos differed from the function of the earlier seven. The purpose of the first seven makkos was punishment: to force Pharoah and the Egyptians to admit that they were in the wrong.  By the time makkas barad was over, that goal had been accomplished -- the Egyptians were ready to cry mercy.  But that was not enough.  The last three makkos were not a punishment, but were a demonstration of G-d's might, not only to prove G-d's power to the Egyptians, but also to stamp the memory of yetzi'at Mitzrayim on the psyche of Klal Yisrael for all generations.  It's a subtle distinction.  Why the first seven makkos were not enough to show G-d's might and give Klal Yisrael something to talk about and remember for generations to come is a question I can't answer.  

The Abarbanel has a great answer.  If you look at the reaction of Pharoah and the Egyptians to the earlier makkos, it's almost identical in every case.  Moshe brings the makkah, Pharoah asks for the makkah to be removed, Moshe davens to Hashem and takes it away, and then Pharoah goes back to business as usual.   If you look at the reaction to the threat of arbeh, something changes.  Pharoah's servants beg him to do something before Egypt is destroyed, so Pharoah calls Moshe, listens to his demands, and instead of throwing him out, he asks, "Mi va'mi ha'holchim?"  OK, who do you want to take with you?  Let's negotiate.  Maybe the men I can let go, but do you really need the women and children?  Pharoah is at the bargaining table.  Now, it's true that the negotiation fails and Pharoah doesn't give in, but the very fact that Pharaoh is at the table and talking is a dramatic change.  From arbeh on, the geulah is a done deal - the rest is haggeling over price, so to speak.  And so we read arbeh through the end as a separate parsha.

There is a mussar haskel here: once you are at the table to bargain, you've already lost the battle.  

2) Last week I did a post on the reward given to the dogs for not barking during makkas bechoros.  My wife pointed out that one can easily explain that the reward of "lakelev tashlichun oso" has nothing to do with whether animals deserve reward, but is an obligation upon us to show appreciation even to inanimate objects from which we have gotten benefit.  This may explain the Mechilta, but the Yalkut is still difficult. 

Why were the dogs given this reward of getting treifa meat?  Ksav Sofer suggests that the dogs not barking served to distinguish Bnei Yisrael from the Egyptians.  Not eating treifa is because "anshei kodesh tehiyun li," so that we may be distinguished by kedusha.

the "weight" of evil tips the scales in our favor

The Midrash connects the pasuk in Mishlei (27:3)

כֹּבֶד אֶבֶן וְנֵטֶל הַחוֹל וְכַעַס אֱוִיל כָּבֵד מִשְּׁנֵיהֶם:

The weight of a stone and burden of sand -- the anger of a fool is heaver than both.

With the "hichbadti es libo" of our parsha using an elaborate play on words. I’ll do my best to make the simple pshat here intelligible in English.

אמר הקדוש ברוך הוא: כבדתי את ישראל בעולם, שנקראו אבן, כמה דתימא (בראשית מט, כד): משם רועה אבן ישראל.
ונטל החול, אלו ישראל, שנמשלו לחול, שנאמר (הושע ב, א): והיה מספר בני ישראל כחול הים, שנטלתי אותם בעולם ואמרתי (זכריה ב, יב): כל הנוגע בהם כנוגע בבבת עינו.
ועמדו והכעיסו לפני, ובקשתי לכלותן ולהשליכן מעל פני, ואמרתי בשביל פרעה הרשע, שלא יאמר לא היה יכול להצילן ועמד עליהן והרגן.
הוי, וכעס אויל כבד משניהם.
הוי, כי אני הכבדתי את לבו:

Bnei Yisrael are called “even,” a rock: “m’sham ro’eh even Yisrael.”  The Midrash reads k-v-d in the pasuk not as referring to the weight of a rock, but like the word kavod, honor -- Hashem has given us, his rock, a place of honor in the world.  We are compared to the sand of the sea; the “burden of sand”alludes to Hashem taking us under his protection.  However, the Jewish people angered G-d and caused him to want to lash out at them.  Were he to do so, Pharoah would claim that G-d does not have the power to protect and save them.  Therefore, G-d holds back his anger.  More than the love G-d has for Bnei Yisrael, what protects us is the foolishness of Pharoah, the “weight” of the chilul Hashem that would be caused by allowing him to make false claims.  In our parsha, Hashem tells Moshe to go to Pharoah, “ki ani hichbadti es libo.”  Again using a play on words, the Midrash associates the “hichbadti” of Pharoah’s heart with the weight of foolishness referred to in Mishlei.

What are Chazal trying to teach us? We wouldn’t know that Pharoah would attribute it to his own power if Bnei Yisrael did not go free, or that that would be a big chilul Hashem?

When life is smooth sailing, then people think that G-d is treating them nicely.  When the going gets tough, then people think that G-d abandoned them and doesn’t care .  The Midrash is telling us that’s not how it works.  Sometimes the biggest tovah Hashem can do is to put a person in hot water.  It’s not Hashem’s love, the kavod he gives us, his promise to protect us, that brought the geulah from Mitzrayim – rather, it’s the fact that Pharaoh at the end of the day can’t win, as that would be a bigger crime than any wrong we could do.  “Ki ANI hichbadti es libo” – Hashem says just like I gave you kavod and protection which you know is l’tovah, I’m the one giving hardening Pharoah’s heart and in doing so am giving you an you an even bigger tovah, because it’s that hardened heart of Pharoah that is your ticket to geulah. 

Unlike the meforshim who learn that the word “kaveid” in the end of the Midrash refers to the “weight” of the chilul Hashem caused by the evildoer, I would suggest that the end of the Midrash is really the same play on words used in the beginning of the passage.  Just like “koved even” refers to something that honors Klal Yisrael, the “ka’as avil” of the evildoer which is “kaveid” means that what appears to be “ka’as avil,” evil, can itself be the vehicle that ultimately brings even greater honor and geulah to Klal Yisrael.    

Pope Francis, (l'havdil), the Rambam, and our parsha on whether pets go to heaven

The NY Times thought it worthy of front page headlines last month when it reported that Pope Francis said that even animals can make it to heaven.  What’s the big deal?  Because the "traditional" Aristotelian view, also adopted by the Rambam in Moreh Nevuchim (III:17), is that there is no concept of reward and punishment for animals.  According to the Rambam, only humans merit hashgacha pratis and individual reward/punishment, but Fido and Rover are no different than rocks, plants, cars or robots. 

Animal rights activists’ celebration was short-lived, as the NY Times later rewrote and updated the story (see the editor’s note at the end of the article) with an admission that it basically reported a myth as news without bothering to fact-check first (I know – shocking.)  Reuters quoted Vatican’s deputy spokesman Father Ciro Benedettini as putting it this way: ““There is a fundamental rule in journalism. That is double-checking, and in this case it was not done.”

The Rambam writes that there is no source that would contradict his view, but the Torah Temimah, unlike the NY Times, did some fact checking and was not convinced.  The pasuk in our parsha (11:7) relates that on the night of Pesach no dogs barked in the neighborhood of Bnei Yisrael.  The Mechilta comments that the dogs received reward for their silence, as the Torah later writes that a person who has treifa meat should throw it to the dogs.  The Yalkut (187) writes that in the merit of their not barking the dogs were rewarded with the ability to singing shirah and their excrement is used to tan hides that are used for tefillin, mezuzos, and sifrei Torah. Don’t these sources indicate, asks theTorah Temimah, that G-d does reward (and potentially punishes) even animals?! 

The Torah Temimah answers that all we see from these Midrashim is that the dogs received some reward in this world for their good deeds.  That doesn’t mean that Fido would go to heaven, as the NY Times thought. 

Once you accept the underlying logic of the Rambam, I don’t see how that distinction works.  If animals are not subject to reward/punishment because they lack the ability to choose right from wrong, then what difference does it make whether the reward/punishment is given in this world or the next?  Furthermore, the Ramban in Parshas Noach (ch 9) takes the Rambam’s position a step further and writes that punishment is not given to animals even in this world:

תמה אני, אם הדרישה כמשמעה, מיד החיה כמו מיד האדם להיות עונש בדבר, ואין בחיה דעת שתיענש או שתקבל שכר. ואולי יהיה כן בעניין דם האדם לבדו, שכל החיה שתטרוף אותו תיטרף כי גזרת מלך היא, וזה טעם סקול יסקל השור ולא יאכל את בשרו

The Ramban has to explain that the punishment given to a shor haniskal is a “gezeiras melech,” but if not for that special gezeirah, a shor or any other animal would not be subject to punishment even in this world.

R’ Noson Gestetner gives a simpler answer to the T”T’s question. The Rambam himself writes that while Hashem does not have hashgacha pratis on individual animals, he does have hashgacha on the “min,” the species.  We say every day that G-d is “masbi’a l’kol chai ratzon.”  Hashgacha may not dictate that this particular lion will catch this particular gazelle for lunch today, but G-d does ensure that  lions in general have food to eat and what we call nature continues on its course.  In a similar vein, when the Midrash promises reward to the dogs for their silence, it does not mean this or that particular dog got a reward – it means the species of dog as a whole received a reward.  What’s the difference between rewarding the species and rewarding the individual creature?  R’ Gestetner suggests that the “min” of dog or other creature is governed by an angelic “sar” that can make choices and therefore can receive reward.

Perhaps there is another possible model we can use to explain how animals can receive reward/punishment.  Rav Dessler frequently speaks about accruing reward by serving as a “kli” for someone else’s advancement in avodah.  For example, when Reuvain prays for Shimon to recover from an illness, Shimon may not have made any choice that would warrant his earning a reprieve from punishment, but since Reuvain has made a positive choice to daven based on Shimon’s condition, Shimon’s spiritual stock goes up as well.  Dogs may not have the ability to choose right from wrong, but perhaps by virtue of the fact that they served to highlight G-d’s hashgacha over the houses of Bnei Yisrael and were a kli for kedushas Hashem, they therefore deserved to be rewarded.

why does the aino yode'a lishol get the same answer as the rasha?

We all know from the haggadah shel Pesach that in giving the mitzvah of sipur yetzi’as Mitzrayim the Torah addresses itself in four different ways to the paradigmatic “four sons.”  In speaking to the son who is “aino yode’a lishol,” who cannot or does not ask, the haggadah uses the same pasuk from Parshas Bo (13:8) of “V’higadta l’vincha…” which Rashi tells us alludes to the answer to the wicked son.  Why does the son who cannot ask deserve the same response as the rasha, the son who openly rebels?

Ksav Sofer answers that the haggadah is warning us that chinuch needs to start on the ground floor, before a child is even old enough to ask.  If not, an “aino yode’a lishol” is a rasha in waiting.

I love the Maharal in Gur Aryeh here.  The “aino yode’a lishol” is not a two year old who is too immature to know how to ask and is not a simpleton who can’t ask.  The “aino yode’a lishol” is the person who is simply too disinterested and/or distracted to be bothered to ask.  In other words, he/she is your typical American Jew.  What sin is he/she guilty of that warrants a response akin to that given to the rasha?  Answer: the sin of apathy. 

It’s a sin to go through life without asking questions, without pausing to wonder and think about our lot as individuals and as a community. 

zechiras yetzi'as Mitzrayim - zman gerama

My son is such a R’ Ovadya Yosef admirer that he bought one of the new biographies (this is the only gadol biography I think he owns) called Abir HaRo’im that came out after R’ Ovadya’s passing.  In a footnote towards the end of the book there is a story about a meeting that took place on Pesach between R’ Ovadya and another Rav whose name I apologize for not remembering (the truth is that I am not familiar with many of the names of talmidei chachamim mentioned in the book due to my ignorance of the sefardi world).  In the Torah discussion that took place between them, R’ Ovadya asked why we need the derashos of “ymei chayecha – l’rabos ha’yamim” and “kol – l’rabos ha’laylos” that we are familiar with from the haggadah shel Pesach.  Why could the pasuk not simply have said “l’ma’an tizkor… b’chayecha,” and we would assume (why not?) the mitzvah of zecheiras yetzi’as Mitzrayim applies 24x7? 

The talmid chacham who R’ Ovadya was speaking to answered by pointing to the Sha’agas Aryeh’s chiddush that even though zechiras yetzi’as Mitzrayim applies both by day and at night, it is still classified as a mitzvas aseh she’hazman gerama because the mitzvah done by day is an independent chiyuv from that done at night.  In reality, there are two separate kiyumim that apply in two distinct time periods that happen to run concurrently.  Based on this, we understand why the pasuk uses two derashos.  Had the pasuk said “l’ma’an tizkor… b’chayecha,” it would imply that there is one mitzvah that applies 24x7.  By giving us a derasha to teach us the mitzvah during the day and a separate derasha for the mitzvah at night, the pasuk teaches that they are in fact two separate kiyumim and the mitzvah is zman gerama.  (R’ Ovadya apparently got a lot of simcha from the teirtuz – as I hope you do too.)

430 / 400 / 210 years -- how long in galus Mitzrayim?

“U’moshav Bnei Yisrael ashed yashvu b’Mitzrayim shloshim shanah v’arba me’os shanah.” (12:40)

The pasuk seems to say that the Jewish people dwelled in Egypt for 430 years, yet, we know that this simply cannot be true.  Rashi does the math and adds up the number of years Moshe’s grandfather Kehos lived, the number of years Amram lived, and the number of years Moshe himself lived until the exodus and the number is far short of 430. 

Rashi addresses the problem by explaining that the pasuk is not telling us the number of years the Jewish people lived in Egypt, but rather the number of total years spent in galus, in lands other than their own.  Compare the structure of our pasuk with that in Devarim (2:14): “The days which we travelled from Kadesh Barne’a until we crossed Nachal Zared were thirty eight years…”  The Jewish people did not spend 38 years travelling from Kadesh Barne’a to Nachal Zared -- what the pasuk means is that 38 years elapsed from the start of the journey until they reached Nachal Zared (Ramban).  Here too, the number 430 sums up the total time elapsed in galus, not the total time spend just living in Mitzrayim.  (See Ibn Ezra as well.)

Yet all is still not well.  Avraham Avinu was told that “Ger yi’hiyeh zaracha b’eretz lo lahem v’avadum v’inu osam arba mei’os shanah,” (Brashis 15:13).  There was a promise and prophecy given to Avraham that his decedents would suffer 400 years of persecution and servitude.   However you work out the technical discrepancy of 30 years between that promise of 400 years and the 430 years mentioned in our pasuk (see Ramban), the more fundamental question is that the slavery and persecution did not go on for 400 years.  The Jewish people may have been strangers without a homeland yet, as Rashi explains, but there was no “v’avadum v’inu osam,” no slavery until they got to Egypt.    

 

Ramban in Braishis (15:13) writes:

 

זה מקרא מסורס, ושיעורו כי גר יהיה זרעך בארץ לא להם ארבע מאות שנה ועבדום וענו אותם, ולא פירש כמה ימי העבדות והעינוי

In other words, Ramban juggles the clauses in the pasuk.  The 400 years is the duration of the “ger yi’hiyeh zaracha” promise of being strangers.  It is not connected with the clause that immediately precedes it of “v’avadum v’inu osam” promising slavery and persecution.

Ksav Sofer in our parsha interprets the pasuk psychologically.  The Avos were not persecuted or enslaved, but they lived with the knowledge that their children would be.  Although the gezeirah did not apply to them personally, each one of the Avos felt the pain that would come to the future generations.  They psychologically were in Mitzrayim, even if physically the avdus had not yet begun.  Because they anticipated the galus and empathized with the suffering their children would endure, the 400 or 430 years are counted from their lifetime, shortening the time their children would spend in actual servitude (He concludes: "v'zeh peirush mechudash v'nifla.")

 

Parents worry about their children; they anticipate suffering happening even before there are real problems and concerns.  The pain they feel sometimes serves as a substitute or tempers any real punishment that the midas ha'din may have in store, and it happens often without our even realizing it.

the clothes make the man -- "klei kesef klei zahav u'semalos"

Just before bringing the final plague of makkas bechoros Hashem told Moshe to ask Bnei Yisrael to request gold and silver from the Egyptians (11:2), "V'yishalu...klei kesef u'klei zahav."   Yet, the Torah tells us (12:35) that when Bnei Yisrael carried out Moshe’s instructions, they asked for "klei kesef u'klei zahav u'semalos," for gold, silver and clothes as well.   Not only did they add clothes to the list of items they asked for, but as Rashi reminds us, when the Torah gives us a list, the most important item is mentioned last -- since clothes are mentioned last, it means they were even more important to Bnei Yisrael than the gold and silver.  How can that be?

The Sifsei Chachamim quotes an explanation from the Maharashal: you can’t wear gold and silver jewelry with the beggar’s clothes of a slave.  When Bnei Yisrael were told to take gold and silver, even though they had not been told to do so, they asked for clothes to go with those accessories. 

When Rashi says the garments were the most significant item taken, he is speaking from the perspective of the Egyptians.  The Egyptians were able to delude themselves into thinking they were giving out their gold and silver jewels as a loan, but would get them back.  However, the Egyptians knew that the Jewish people wore distinctive dress that separated them from Egyptian society.  They knew that a Jew would only wear Egyptian clothes after doing extensive alterations [try going to a department store and finding something your wife or daughter can wear off the rack].  They could not even pretend that they would ever see the same garments again, and therefore, giving away their clothes was their most difficult sacrifice. 

The Ksav Sofer says a chiddush nifla.  The reason Bnei Yisrael asked the Egyptians for new clothes was l’shem mitzvah, because they wanted to have special clothes for Shabbos and Yom Tov.  It was their appreciation for the mitzvah of kavod Shabbos which make those garments even more valuable than gold and silver.

The Torah tells us that the mitzvah of Shabbos is “zecher l’yetzi’as Mitzrayim,” a way of remembering leaving Mitzrayim.  Ksav Sofer writes that on each and every Shabbos in the desert the Jewish people dressed in these same clothes that they took from Mitzrayim l’kavod Shabbos and they would think back and remember these miraculous moments of leaving Egypt.

(Maybe this is why the Torah commands that the korban Pesach had to be eaten with “na’aleichem b’ragleichem,” your shoes on your feet.  I don’t know about you, but I wear casual walking sneakers during the week, but on Shabbos put on less comfortable but more dressy wingtips.  Bnei Yisrael had taken a full wardrobe, shoes included, from the Egyptians.  They must have been tempted to dress up for the seder, including putting on their new dress shoes l’kavod Yom Tov.  The Torah advises not to do that.  Wear “na’aleichem,” your shoes, the old pair of sneakers that you broke in already, not the stiff wingtips that still hurt your feet that you took from your Egyptian neighbor.  The korban Pesach had to be eaten ready to run out the door, and you can’t do that in leather-soled dress shoes.)

more weighty than creation

The Midrash opens our parsha as follows:

ויאמר ה' אל משה בא אל פרעה הדא הוא דכתיב (משלי כז, ג) כובד אבן ונטל החול וכעס אויל כבד משניהם שאל אבנימוס הגרדי את רבותינו זכרונם לברכה אמר להם הארץ היאך נבראת תחלה אמרו לו אין אדם בקי בדברים אלו אלא לך אצל אבא יוסף הבנאי הלך ומצאו שהוא עומד על הקרויא אמר לו שאלה יש לי לשאול אותך אמר לו איני יכול לירד מפני שאני שכיר יום אלא שאל מה תבקש אמר ליה היאך נבראת הארץ תחלה אמר ליה נטל הקדוש ברוך הוא עפר מתחת כסא הכבוד וזרק על המים ונעשה ארץ וצרורות קטנים שהיו בעפר נעשו הרים וגבעות שנאמר (איוב לח, לח) בצקת עפר למוצק ורגבים ידובקו וברור הוא הדבר באזני בני אדם שנאמר כובד אבן ונטל החול מהו כובד אבן מי שהוא רואה את ההרים ואת הגבעות אינו אומר היאך ברא הקדוש ברוך הוא את אלו מהו ונטל החול אלא החול שהמים עומדים עליו למעלה והוא נתון מלמטה והוא נושא אותם אמר הקדוש ברוך הוא יקרה היא בעיני בני אדם ורואין כאלו יגיעה היא לפני ואינה יגיעה שנאמר (ישעיה מ, כח) לא ייעף ולא ייגע במה אני ייגע במי שהוא מכעיס לפני בדברים בטלים כמה דאת אמר (מלאכי ב, יז) הוגעתם ה' בדבריכם הוי וכעס אויל כבד משניהם.

The Midrash tells us that creating heaven and earth does not tire G-d out, but what tires him out is those who anger him with nonsense.  The pasuk doesn't say "hichzakti es lev Pharoah," which is grammatically what we would expect, but instead uses the word "hichbadti," to make heavy.  The evil heart if Pharaoh is more weighty than all the rest of creation.

We know, of course, that G-d does not get tired.  What do Chazal mean that dealing with Pharaoh was more tiring than even the act of creation?

We say in the shir shel yom on Shabbos that, "Mah gadlu ma'asecha Hashem, me'od amku machshivosecha," how great are your acts G-d, how deep and mysterious are your ways. The wonder of creation inspires us to stand in awe of G-d.  The psalm then continues, "Ish ba'r lo yeida u'kesil lo yavin es zos," a foolish man cannot comprehend these matters.  It sounds like psalm is contrasting the foolish or evil man with the one who contemplates creation and sees G-d.  However, the Berdichiver, explains that the pasuk is not a contrast, but rather is a continuation of the previous idea.  What is the greatest act G-d does, the deepest mystery that we should be in awe and amazement at?  "Ish ba'ar lo yeida...," the fact that he creates and allows to continue to exist the foolish, the evildoer, those who deny Him.  

The Sefas Emes tells us that this is what the Midrash means to teach us.  To create a world that testifies to G-d's handiwork is "easy," so to speak.  What is truly amazing is that G-d even creates and sustains things that oppose him.  "Bo el Pharaoch ki ani hichbadti es libo..."  G-d tells Moshe not to be afraid of Pharaoh (see Zohar) because Pharaoh's obstinance is not of his own making -- it is G-d who is pulling the levers and pushing Pharaoh to rebel.  

The lesson for us is not to shirk in fear at our obstacles and challenges, as whatever stands in our way is there only because yad Hashem allows it for some purpose to our benefit. 

the removal of Pharoah's ability to do teshuvah

Last week I quoted a Midrash that Hashem sent Moshe to stop Pharoah from davening so as to not give him the opportunity to do teshuvah.  I assumed the Midrash was echoing the idea found in the Rambam (Hil Teshuvah 6:3):

  ואפשר שיחטא האדם חטא גדול או חטאים הרבה, עד שייתן הדין לפני דיין האמת שיהיה הפירעון מזה החוטא על חטאים אלו שעשה ברצונו ומדעתו, שמונעין ממנו התשובה ואין מניחין לו רשות לשוב מרשעו, כדי שימות ויאבד בחטאים שעשה.

Rambam says that as a punishment for repeated transgressions G-d can deny a person the ability to do teshuvah, as we see from the fact that G-d hardened Pharoah’s heart and did not let him repent. 

However, some of the meforshim on the Midrash learn that Pharaoh could not do teshuvah for a different reason.  The Y'fei To’ar writes that because Pharaoh’s cheit was bein adam l’chaveiro, a sin against his fellow man, his teshuvah could not come through an appeal to G-d, but could only come through his asking Bnei Yisrael for forgiveness.

Recall that in Parshas Lech Lecha Avraham was forced to go down to Mitzrayim, where Sarah was taken captive.  Pharaoh had to ask Avraham for forgiveness and he sent him away with riches.  Ramban writes that that episode is ma’aseh avos siman l’banim for the enslavement and release of Bnei Yisrael.  Perhaps the need for Pharaoh to ask mechilah of those he harmed is also part of the process that must repeat itself.

The Koshiglover (Eretz Tzvi, Va'Eira) writes that Pharoah was punished with his bechira being taken away midah k’neged.  After Moshe’s first visit, Pharaoh cracked down on Bnei Yisrael and demanded that they produce the same quota of bricks without being given the straw necessary to do the job.  Bricks without straw is a contradiction in terms – it’s an impossible task to achieve.  Pharaoh was setting up an inevitable pretext to dish out more severe punishment.  The same was now dished out to him.  Moshe demanded that Pharaoh free Bnei Yisrael, but Pharaoh was not given the means to exercise his bechira to do so.  Pharaoh was asked to do the impossible as a pretext to deliver greater punishment.

I would suggest that perhaps it was also Pharaoh’s declaration that he was a deity that contributed to this specific punishment being given.  In the parsha of shiras ha’yam Rashi comments on the pasuk, “Yemincha Hashem ne’edari ba’koach yemincha Hashem tir’atz oiyev,” (15:6) that G-d can use the very same hand he is using to have mercy and save his people to also strike and punish their enemies.  In other words, mercy and justice can exist simultaneously – the law of non-contradiction does not apply to G-d.  Pharaoh was thrust into a position where the law of non-contradiction hit him full force – he was pressed to allow Bn”Y to leave, but was denied the ability to choose to do so.  G-d with a capital G can bypass the law of non-contradiction; Pharaoh, a self-declared god with a little g and no real power, cannot.

Hashem tells Moshe at the beginning of Parshas Bo that the next makkos will be something For Bnei Yisrael to speak about to their children and grandchildren (10:2) and, “v’yedatem ki ani Hashem,” they will now know that G-d is in charge of everything.  What was significant about this makkah, about this point in time, that caused Hashem to make that promise?  Ksav Sofer writes that no matter how incredible the wonder of the makkos, it was always possible for the stubborn to argue that it was just magic or illusion.  However, there is one thing that everyone agrees that a magician cannot control – that is the human heart.  After the complete decimation of the food and water of Egypt, for Pharaoh to still not relent and not release Bnei Yisrael could only be because of yad Hashem.  That is the miracle that will cause “v’yedatem ki ani Hashem.”

The Mabi”T holds that denial of the ability to do teshuvah is a punishment meted out only to aku”m.  However, it is clear that the Rambam disagrees and applies the idea to all sinners, as his example indicates:

 וכן ישראל בימי אלייהו לפי שהרבו לפשוע, מנע מאותן המרבים תשובה, שנאמר "ואתה הסיבות את ליבם, אחורנית" (מלכים א יח,לז), כלומר מנעת מהן התשובה.

That being said, the Sefas Emes reminds us that midah tovah is always greater than punishment.  True, Hashem will slam closed the door on those who repeatedly ignore the opportunity to do teshuvah, but He will also open new doors for those who make the effort to come closer.  Even if it looks like there is no door, Hashem is “ha’posei’ach sha’ar l’dofkei b’teshuvah.”