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Harav Hagaon Meir Tzvi Shpitzer Shlita

Slaughtering the Idol of I Can

Shabbos Hagadol/Pesach

Harav Hagaon Meir Tzvi Shpitzer shlita

Shabbos Hagadol commemorates מִשְׁכוּ וּקְחוּ לָכֶם צֹאן — Hakadosh Baruch Hu’s command to us to take a sheep, tie it to the bed, and keep it for four days in preparation for the Korban Pesach.

Regarding the words in Parashas Bo, וְהָיָה לָכֶם לְמִשְׁמֶרֶת, Rashi says that Yetzias Mitzrayim was in the zechus of the Korban Pesach — וָאֹמַר לָךְ בְּדָמַיִךְ חֲיִי — and that zechus began with the מִשְׁכוּ וּקְחוּ לָכֶם צֹאן of Shabbos Hagadol.

Why were we given the mitzvah to take a sheep, specifically, for the Korban Pesach? The Ramban explains, in Parashas Bo, that the Egyptians worshipped sheep as their deity, as Moshe Rabbeinu told Pharaoh, הֵן נִזְבַּח אֶת תּוֹעֲבַת מִצְרַיִם לְעֵינֵיהֶם וְלֹא יִסְקְלֻנוּ.

Why did they deify sheep?

The Ramban observes that the twelve months of the year revolve around twelve mazalos, and the first — the “head” and most important — of all the mazalos is the taleh, the sheep of Chodesh Nissan.

Nissan, says the Ramban, is the month of chiddush hatzemichah, when things start to grow and bloom. After a winter of hard work, we finally see the results. This idea of our efforts bringing success is representing by the mazal of taleh, the sheep. Why?

The Gemara (Chullin 84b), cited by Rashi in Parashas Eikev, explains that the Torah refers to sheep as עַשְׁתְּרֹת צֹאנֶךָ because they enrich their owners; ashteros being related to the word ashirus. Chazal say, therefore, that if a person is looking to invest, the best investment he could make is sheep. Sheep produce wool and milk during their lifetime, and meat after they are slaughtered. In addition, their horns are used for trumpets, their skin is used for drums, and their other parts are used for musical instruments a well.

Sheep therefore represent material success. Indeed, about Yaakov Avinu the passuk says: וַיִּפְרֹץ הָאִישׁ מְאֹד מְאֹד וַיְהִי לוֹ צֹאן רַבּוֹת. The Ramban explains that Chodesh Nissan marks the beginning of success.

 

Why is the month called Nissan? The Haga’os on Sefer Hatishbi notes that “Nissan” comes from the root nitzan, as in the passuk הַנִּצָּנִים נִרְאוּ בָאָרֶץ. (Samech and tzadi are interchangeable.) The first bloom, the first success, which comes from all of a person’s work is seen in Chodesh Nissan.

The Torah refers to Nissan as Chodesh Ha’aviv, and Rashi says that aviv is related to the word av, father. Nissan is the “father” of the year, the beginning of a person’s success. Rabbeinu Bechaye explains that the word itself connotes that Nissan is the beginning (אב) of the other twelve (י”ב) months.

Whose Success?

Rav Tzadok explains that the Egyptians believed that their own efforts produced their success: כֹּחִי וְעֹצֶם יָדִי עָשָׂה לִי אֶת הַחַיִל הַזֶּה. They worshipped the taleh not because they thought the sheep is intrinsically holy, but because they saw it as a manifestation of the might of their own hand.

Yetzias Mitzrayim came about in the zechus of Klal Yisrael’s מִשְׁכוּ וּקְחוּ לָכֶם צֹאן, meaning drawing themselves away from avodah zarah and kochi ve’otzem yadi, which was the Egyptian deity. The other Egyptian avodah zarah was the Nile River, which also represented material success.

Hakadosh Baruch Hu therefore commanded Klal Yisrael to take the taleh home and slaughter it, demonstrating that we don’t follow the Mitzriyim in their worship.

Cured for the Whole Year

At this stage, we are busy baking and preparing matzos. The Torah tells us that matzah symbolizes the rush to leave Mitzrayim — כִּי בְחִפָּזוֹן יָצָאתָ מֵאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם. There was no time to bake bread, so the Yidden ate matzah, and that’s why we eat matzah.

The Maharal, on Parashas Re’eh, points out that if we are trying to commemorate Yetzias Mitzrayim, we should focus on remembering that we were freed from slavery. The fact that we left Egypt in a rush would seem to be a very minor part of the story. Who cares whether we left in haste or at leisure? So why does the whole mitzvah of matzah serve to commemorate the fact that we left in a rush?

The Maharal answers that this is no mere tangential point — it’s the main point. As long as we felt that we have time, that it’s still possible to be in Mitzrayim, and that we are capable of taking ourselves out of Mitzrayim, then Yetzias Mitzrayim was not possible, because we still believed in kochi ve’otzem yadi, just like the Egyptians. If we had the power to leave by ourselves, then we could decide to leave later as well. The fact that we left in a rush indicated that it was Hakadosh Baruch Hu taking us out; He said, “Leave now,” so we had to leave now.

It is precisely the chipazon, symbolized by matzah, that demonstrates the abandonment of kochi ve’otzem yadi. We acknowledged that we didn’t have the power to leave Mitzrayim ourselvses; only Hakadosh Baruch Hu could take us out. That knowledge is the antithesis of the Egyptian belief in the taleh, in the idea that I generate my own wealth and success.

The Zohar says, in Parashas Tetzaveh, that in truth, all the food a person eats during the year has an adverse spiritual effect on him, pulling him further down into Olam Hazeh and away from Hakadosh Baruch Hu. When a person eat matzah on Pesach, continues the Zohar, that fortifies and protects him so that he can safely eat food the rest of the year and be involved in the world of gashmiyus. Once he internalizes the message of the matzah, which is that we ourselves have no power, we are protected throughout the year, even as we engage in activities that would otherwise lead us to believe in kochi ve’otzem yadi.

The Danger of Satiation

The Torah commands us to say Bircas Hamazon after eating bread: וְאָכַלְתָּ וְשָׂבָעְתָּ וּבֵרַכְתָּ אֶת ה’, and the Gemara in Berachos discusses whether there is a d’Oraysa obligation to make a berachah before eating a meal as well. The Gemara reasons that if the Torah requires a person to recite a berachah after he is satiated, then he should certainly be required to make a berachah when he is hungry, out of the incredible feeling of gratitude to Hakadosh Baruch Hu for providing him with food to quell his hunger. The final ruling, however, is that there is no d’Oraysa obligation to recite a berachah before the meal, but the Gemara does not explain why.

The Meshech Chochmah does shed light on this matter. He explains that if the mitzvah of Bircas Hamazon would be purely about hakaras hatov, then indeed, the hakaras hatov should be more acute at the beginning of the meal, when the person is hungry. But the reason we recite Bircas Hamazon at the end of the meal is not merely to express gratitude, but rather as a declaration that everything I have just eaten, and my overall success, comes from Hashem. It’s not kochi ve’otzem yadi.

When is a person more likely to feel kochi ve’otzem yadi? When he finishes his meal, and he feels satisfied, both from the food he ate and from the hard work he invested into creating his meal and his wealth. At that time, when he is at risk of falling into the trap of kochi ve’otzem yadi, the Torah commands him to say Bircas Hamazon.

Yosef Paved the Way

Yosef Hatzaddik was the one who laid the groundwork for Klal Yisrael’s stay in Mitzrayim, and his ascent to greatness began when he stood before Pharaoh and declared, בִּלְעָדָי אֱלֹקִים יַעֲנֶה אֶת שְׁלוֹם פַּרְעֹה. Pharaoh had said, “I heard that you know how to interpret dreams,” but Yosef responded, “It has nothing to do with me.”

He was in a situation where he could easily have felt that it’s kochi ve’otzem yadi — no one else in Mitzrayim could interpret Pharaoh’s dreams. Nevertheless, he declared that his ability to interpret dreams was from Hashem. This paved the way for Klal Yisrael’s stay in Mitzrayim, because it established the distinction between the Egyptian and Jewish worldviews. Yosef’s outlook reached its pinnacle with the מִשְׁכוּ וּקְחוּ לָכֶם צֹאן of Shabbos Hagadol, which was followed by Yetzias Mitzrayim and the mitzvah to eat matzah because we were chased out of Egypt in haste.

False, or Ridiculous?

Dovid Hamelech makes two similar statements in Tehillim. In Perek 35 he says שֶׁקֶר הַסּוּס לִתְשׁוּעָה, declaring that the horse, which people ride on to wage war, does not bring salvation. In Perek 60, he says, וְשָׁוְא תְּשׁוּעַת אָדָם, expressing that the belief that salvation comes from man is a delusion.

The mefarshim point out that Dovid Hamelech chose his words carefully. When talking about a horse, which creates an illusion that it brings the yeshuah, he uses the term sheker. And when he discusses a person’s own handiwork and the folly of imagining that he brings about his own salvation, he uses the term shav. What’s the difference between sheker and shav?

The Brisker Rav cites the Rambam’s explanation, in the first perek of Hilchos Shevuos, of the difference between a shevuas sheker and a shevuas shav. A shevuas sheker is when, for instance, a person falsely swears that he ate in a certain person’s house, while a shevuas shav is when, for instance, a person swears that a piece of gold is made of marble

What’s the difference between these two falsehoods? In the former, it is theoretically possible that a person could have eaten in his friend’s house; he just happened not to. A shevuas sheker, then, is something that happens not to be true, but could potentially have been true. A shevuas shav, on the other hand, is a statement that is utterly ridiculous, an impossibility. Gold never was and never will be marble.

A person could imagine, says the Brisker Rav, that the horse brings his salvation, and indeed, there are times when the horse is somewhat involved in the yeshuah. If you think that you were saved by the horse, however, you are mistaken. It’s a sheker.

But to imagine that what you do is what brought about the salvation — כֹּחִי וְעֹצֶם יָדִי עָשָׂה לִי אֶת הַחַיִל הַזֶּה, that is shav, totally ridiculous, and we reject that assertion outright. A person’s own efforts have no connection at all to any success he might have.

Attributing Our Handiwork to Hashem

Chazal instituted that before we eat a bread meal, we need to wash our hands. On a simple level, the reason for this requirement of netilas yadayim is the hands might have become tamei. But the Zohar, in Rus, explains that the phrase “netilas yadayim” implies lifting the hands. Why do the hands need to be lifted? Because they are involved in creating and doing things in this world, and they therefore bring the person to the feeling of kochi ve’otzem yadi. Therefore, say Chazal, before you eat a meal, wash away that tumah of thinking that your hands are the instruments of your success. Lift your hands and appreciate that Hakadosh Baruch Hu is the one who gives you any success you may have.

Our relationship with Hakadosh Baruch Hu is described in terms of yedidus, friendship. Hashem is called our “Yedid,” as the passuk states, אָשִׁירָה נָּא לִידִידִי. The Ben Yehoyada notes that the word ידיד is composed of the words yad yad, meaning my hand and Hakadosh Baruch Hu’s hand together. I shouldn’t think that my hands accomplished anything. Rather, I give my hand to Hakadosh Baruch Hu and I realize that it’s His hand that gives me success.

The gematria of the word yad is 14, signifying the fourteen segments of a person’s five fingers. In this world, we do everything we these fourteen parts of our fingers, but we declare that Hakadosh Baruch Hu is our Yedid — we stretch up our hands and declare that anything we can do is all because of the yad Hashem.

The gematria of yedid is 28, corresponding to the 28 times that Shlomo Hamelech describes in Koheles: עֵת לָלֶדֶת וְעֵת לָמוּת, and so on. A person has 28 segments in the fingers of his two hands, and he mistakenly believes that his own efforts are what give rise to these 28 times. To dispel this notion, we lift our two hands to Hakadosh Baruch Hu, our Yedid, affirming that we do not ascribe to the belief of kochi ve’otzem yadi.

Like the Yidden in Mitzrayim, we draw our hands away from avodah zarah, from thinking that the taleh and the springtime blossoming comes from our own work. Instead, we appreciate that it’s all because Hakadosh Baruch Hu granted it to us. This is represented by the matzah, and its connotation of the chipazon with which we left Mitzrayim.

May Hakadosh Baruch Hu see yet again our understanding that there’s no kochi ve’otzem yadi, and just as our forefathers were redeemed in that zechus, may we be zocheh that this Chodesh Nissan should be a time of yeshuos makifos, for each individual and for Klal Yisrael as a whole.

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