Holy People

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz 

It is now over seven weeks since we were introduced to the coronavirus and locked into our homes. Since then, thousands have died and many more have lost their livelihoods. Life as we knew it has been turned upside down. What used to be perceived as necessities are no longer even necessary, and things we thought we couldn’t live without are long- ago luxuries.

This week should have seen yeshivos reopening and the return of thousands of people who study Torah full- time to their botei medrash. Tragically, yeshivos are empty, their lights extinguished, and their doors locked. We have been bushwhacked, unable to contemplate the sadness and tragedy of our situation. One day blends into the next as we do our best to survive, hang on, put on a good face for our children, and work to strengthen our faith, if only to bat away the fear and foreboding.

We had hoped that by now, life would be returning to the old normal, but instead, we are still in the holding pattern, waiting for permission to reopen, restart and reenergize. Alas, it has not yet happened, and we still find ourselves in a semi-stupefied state. Things are tough out there and probably will be getting tougher before easing up, but as people of faith, we remain hopeful and assured about the future in tough times as in good times. We do not become broken or sad in times like these. We remember that Hashem will enable us to persevere and that all that happens is for the good.

Rav Nochum Yasser was a Yerushalmi Yid of old who would daven every day at the Kosel. He once took ill and was unable to continue his custom. A friend of his came to visit him, and when he got up to leave, he blessed Reb Nochum that he should swiftly recover and be able to return to davening at the Kosel. Rav Yasser became upset with his visitor and said to him, “If Hashem forced me to stay at home, then the Kosel is right here.”

Hashem has us quarantined in our homes with our families. He wants us to function in our homes, doing there what we would normally do in other places and strengthening our relationships with our loved ones. We should not be complaining. We should not bemoan the change in our lives. Rather, we should recognize that what happens is from Hashem and make the best of our situation. There are many activities we can undertake now that we could not have done before. Plus, we can spend much more time with our family members and establish closer relationships.

This week, we study Parshas Kedoshim. Oftentimes, you will be discussing with someone an improper activity and the person will ask you where the Torah forbids that action. The proper response is that it is here in Parshas Kedoshim, where the Torah commands us, “Kedoshim tihiyu,” to be a holy nation.

When we are out and about in the big world, there is a temptation to act like everyone else, and if everyone does something that is wrong, we may also do it. Now that we are locked up, away from everyone, it is a good time to remind ourselves and our children that the “everyone does it” heter doesn’t apply to us.

Kedoshim tihiyu. We have to be better. We have to eat differently, sleep differently, conduct business differently, treat people differently, and always carry ourselves in a way that will cause people to praise the way we act.

Being home with our children offers us the opportunity to teach them lessons such as this, through our actions as well as our words. If they see us living our lives as kedoshim even when life is difficult, it will make a lasting impression upon them, and when things return to normal and they are outside once again with everyone else, they will conduct themselves properly.

We learn this week about the mitzvah of “ve’ohavta lereiacha kamocha,” to love your fellow Jew as much as you love yourself. Now is a great time to inculcate that message – and its importance – to our youngsters.

Lest you think that the mitzvah is a hard-to-reach admonition, look at all the chesed being performed by people in our community. The selfless devotion of Hatzolah members is often cited as the prime example of the charitable work that people perform. As the virus first began spreading, these people had no day or night, speeding to homes and hospitals, trying desperately to save lives. Many of the volunteers make house calls like doctors of old, checking on patients, taking their vitals, and making sure that they are recovering well.

Funds were immediately set up to raise money for the growing numbers of widows and orphans bereft of their fathers and breadwinners. Millions of dollars were raised literally overnight so that the children would not have to suffer the indignity of poverty along with the crushing sudden loss of their loved ones.

Hundreds of people who have recovered from the virus donated blood plasma which is used to help cure people suffering from the disease.

Food banks were set up so that people who either can’t afford food or are too overwhelmed to cook meals for their families are able to pick up ready-made meals every day. Neighbors drop what they are doing and check in on their older neighbors, ensuring that they are well, fed and cared for.

It shouldn’t take a pandemic to show the greatness of our people, but we live in cynical and difficult times, when our inclination for kindness and brotherly love is not always apparent. Our unseen enemy has roused a nation and brought its goodness to the fore. Seeing that, should be a chizuk for us and an opportunity to teach our children not to live just for themselves, but to think about and care for others in times of good and bad.

Rashi quotes the Toras Kohanim, which teaches that Parshas Kedoshim was delivered by Moshe Rabbeinu personally to the entirety of Klal Yisroel because most of the body of Torah is included there. The parsha begins with the command that we be holy, “Kedoshim tihiyu,” and ends with a similar directive, “Vehiyisem li kedoshim.”

Many commentators wonder how the entirety of Am Yisroel could be commanded to be kedoshim, when it is one of the highest levels a person can attain. Is it fair to demand of simple folk that they rise to the highest rung on the ladder of devotion?

It appears that the word kedusha is commonly misunderstood. We loosely translate the word to mean holy, as connected to asceticism and austerity. Kedusha certainly means that, but it means much more.

A life of kedusha means to live with Hashem and to be enveloped by an awareness of His reality and presence. To be a kadosh means to live with a vision and a dream. It means seeing far, but living within the present. It means never losing sight of the ultimate goal.

A person who lives with kedusha is able to rise above our one-dimensional world and see a bigger and deeper universe. He is thus able to accomplish so much more than others. Other people don’t have time to spend with a boy who wants to learn, lovingly reviewing the Gemara with him repeatedly until he understands it, and then moving along with him and helping him develop into a great talmid chochom, but a kadosh does, because his focus is on the larger goal of spreading Torah.

A kadosh doesn’t tire after sitting with people and helping them through their problems. He doesn’t complain when he speaks to a person for several hours, providing a comforting shoulder and calm direction, because he is focused on the goal of having another healthy person in Hashem’s army.

A kadosh has time and infinite patience for davening, learning and bentching, because he knows that he is studying Hashem’s words and he knows that he is connecting with the Creator.

A kadosh sees himself as part of a greater group, connected with all, and seeking to bring the world and all he is connected with to a better place.

A person who cares about Hashem and His people is a kadosh, because the decisions he makes aren’t guided by personal negius or petty calculations, but by the one essential truth. That is kedusha. His life is spiritual and consumed with big and important things. He is not a slave to pettiness and silliness. Therefore, he is a kadosh. Small things don’t get in his way. He remains focused on the goals set for him in Parshas Kedoshim.

That is why this parsha of Kedoshim Tihiyu was said by Moshe himself behakheil, to everyone. Every person can be a kadosh. Every person can study Parshas Kedoshim and follow its dictates.

Every interaction with another person is an opportunity to show that you are a kadosh. If you present yourself properly, carry yourself with dignity, dress in proper clothing, and speak like a mentch, then you are mekadeish sheim Hashem and demonstrate that you are not caught up in the vagaries of the moment.

If you have time for other people, you show that you are on a higher plane. If you exhibit common courtesies, you show virtues of kadosh. You demonstrate that you believe Hashem is with you and watching you, and you behave the way Parshas Kedoshim indicates you should.

Now, when we are spending more time alone, we have an opportunity to set goals and find ways to succeed at what is really important. Now, when we are by ourselves and have noted how precarious life is, it is a good time to rid our hearts of negativity and hatred. During this period when we have less to do with other people and much of communal life has drawn to a halt, it is a good time to resolve to never become involved in machlokes, but to pursue peace and constructive actions that will serve to enhance and enrich our lives.

Every dark cloud has a silver lining. Although we are living through a historic and trying time, we need to maximize the advantages this period presents us. We can use the opportunity to daven better, saying each word slowly and thinking about its meaning. Admit it: You’re not rushing anywhere and have time to daven properly. We have time to learn more and the ability to fully concentrate without the usual pressures.

It is a time to imbue our children with our mesorah, to be good, ehrliche people whose lives are occupied with doing good and kedusha.

Life is full of ups and downs, and we all know that this down period shall soon pass. Let us do what we can so that when it’s over, we are tougher, sweeter, happier and better than we were before this calamity began. We will not be able to bring back those whose lives were taken, but we can emulate them, follow in their ways, fill the gap they left with their passing, and prepare the world for the speedy coming of Moshiach.

Broken Hearts, Heartfelt Losses

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

 Our people have not experienced as difficult a period as we are living through now since the awful days of the Holocaust. We have not lost as many good people in as concentrated a time since then. Over the past few weeks, every day has brought fresh deaths and more news of people dying. People of all ages, young and old. People were hale and productive one day and the next day they were dead and buried.

Whose heart cannot be broken?

Who can go through day after day without fear and dread?

Our lives have been turned upside down. Many of the things we took for granted have been taken from us. We are basically confined to our homes, unable to go anywhere.

The beautiful Yom Tov of Pesach was celebrated under the constraints of not davening in shul. Minyanim are shut, shuls are closed, and yeshivos and schools are shuttered. There are no simchos for us to attend. We can’t go to levayos or to be menachem aveilim. Stores are closed, as are parks and public places. Airplane flights are down 95%. Many people are out of work, and those who aren’t are making less money. Storekeepers and business owners are losing more money every day and davening for the economy to get restarted.

Everybody knows people whose lives were lost. Leaders, relatives and good friends. People you have known for years. In a flash, they were gone.

Since the last time I wrote, I have lost many friends, acquaintances, people I knew, and people I looked up to. And I am not the only one.

Every life snuffed out is a tremendous loss, but to our world, the most prominent loss was the passing of the Novominsker Rebbe, an outstanding talmid chochom and leader. Born in 1930, in many ways his life resembled the history of Am Yisroel – with ups and downs and different masaos and stops along the way to various goluyos where Klal Yisroel planted itself and ultimately succeeded.

His idyllic childhood as the son of a rebbe in Brooklyn was interrupted by the war, when much of his family and 6,000,000 Jews were wiped out by the Nazis. The world crashed in on him and there was sadness everywhere. Everyone lost relatives and close ones; rabbonim and rebbes lost their lives along with peshutei am. It was a time of uncertainty. Nobody knew what the future held, or if there was a future. But within a few years, the Jewish world began flourishing. The Torah community, which was given up on by many, entered a steep growth incline and hasn’t stopped growing since.

The rebbe learned under great rabbeim and displayed the brilliance he would later use for the benefit of Klal Yisroel. He grew in Torah and middos, as well as in his understanding of people and the world. He dedicated his life to learning and teaching Torah.

He began his career as a rebbi in the Skokie HTC yeshiva, where he stood out as an American-born and trained talmid chochom who spoke English without an accent and related well to American boys. He appealed to them with his wisdom as he introduced them to his world of Torah greatness, presenting the Gemara clearly and in a way described by a talmid as “delicious.” He made learning so appealing that boys forfeited leaving the yeshiva for other opportunities in order to be able to learn and grow under his tutelage. Many modeled themselves after him and resolved to dedicate their lives to Torah, just like their rebbi.

After spending seven years in Chicago, he accepted the position of rosh yeshiva at Yeshiva Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, of the Breuer’s kehillah in Washington Heights. It was a testament to his personality and greatness that just as the Chicago community was attracted to the American-born future chassidishe rebbe, so did the German Yekkishe kehillah become enamored with him. In fact, even after he left there upon his father’s passing, he would return to say shiurim. The last shiur was said over the telephone shortly before his sudden passing.

When his father passed away, he assumed his position as admor of Novominsk and moved to Brooklyn, where he established a rebbistive and yeshiva. That became his final stop, and from there his reputation spread. He became a fount of Torah and gadlus for masses of people. From his membership in the Moetzes Gedolei HaTorah of Agudas Yisroel and the Rabbinical Administrative Board of Torah Umesorah, he became an esteemed leader many looked to. In every situation, he could be counted on to provide articulate and eloquent responses to the issues of the day. His convention addresses presented measured, clear directives for a people desperate for leadership.

How did he accomplish as much as he did and how was he able to relate to different factions, each one seeing him as their own?

I came to know the rebbe many years ago and was able to see him from up front as well as behind closed doors. He was unfailingly kind and a gentleman when addressing people. He was modest and displayed a lack of pretention. He understood people and knew what to say to uplift someone and make them feel good about themselves and optimistic about their situation.

Very often, people get lost in the moment and lose sight of the big picture. He never did. His life was one of optimism. The life he led was a guide for him not to look at things negatively and forsake hope. He didn’t experience the Holocaust up close, but he learned from it never to give up hope and never to forget that Hashem runs the world and has a bigger plan.

He was smart, and when presented with a problem, he provided a smart answer. He didn’t have patience for foolishness and pettiness. He was always on the side of yosher, of honesty, of Torah and of mesorah. He never lost sight of our responsibility in this world and took very seriously the position Hashem placed him in where people turned to him for guidance and direction.

When you went to see him and sat down at the dining room table in his unpretentious home, you felt that he had all the time in the world for you. As you spoke, he listened and looked into your eyes with a certain loving trust. He did not look down at you. You felt welcome and at home, and what you were saying was important to him, because you were important to him. He responded intelligently and warmly, never betraying the trust. He was serious and his words were measured, and when he said he would do something, you knew he would. His words were reassuring and his actions were noble, honorable, principled and virtuous.

He sought achdus and pined for a time when everyone could work together with mutual respect. Although he was by nature an ish hashalom, when the situation demanded it, he would go to war. He was fine and gentle, but when required, he could be tough. Even in times like that, nobody felt put down, because they knew that he was saying what needed to be said and that it was clearly thought through and emanating from the pained, thinking heart of a serious and great person.

We took the rebbe for granted and thought that he would always be here. It was getting more difficult for him to get around, but because of his deep sense of achrayus and his appreciation of good people and those who were close to him, he forced himself to attend public functions and continue his avodas hakodesh.

And then we awoke to the terrible news that he had passed away in the middle of the night. It probably has been said before, and it sounds like a cliché, but it’s true anyway. He hated fanfare and left us during the night as we slept and did not know that he was in a critical situation. He would have had an enormous levayah with many tens of thousands joining to mourn his passing, yet there was barely more than a minyan there to give him kavod acharon.

For the moment, it compounded the tragedy that we were not able to give him the respect he so richly deserved and earned through a life of ameilus baTorah and helping Yidden, but if you look at the big picture, as he always did, his life will be celebrated and he will long be remembered by his talmidim, by the people he helped, and by Klal Yisroel - and the size of his levayah will be forgotten.

His life will long provide an example of the heights an American yeshiva bochur can reach and how much we can achieve if we set our hearts and minds to it.

Oy lonu ki lokinu.

The passing of my good friend, Reb Avrohom Aharon Rubashkin, brought me back to the period during which the business he spent decades building was taken from him and his beloved son was sentenced to 27 years in prison. It was during that time that I came to know him. His simple emunah and bitachon were contagious. He was not broken; his faith remained as strong as ever. He would always tell me, “Der Ribono Shel Olam bleibt nit ah baal chov.” He knew that the story would have a happy ending, and it did.

I knew Yossel Czapnik for forty years. He was a good friend and later a loyal employee. His devotion to the chassidus and rabbeim of Ger served as an inspiration to me in our cynical time. A fountain of knowledge, he was beloved by such gedolim as Rav Shneur Kotler and Rav Elya Svei for his brilliance and wit. A friend to many, young and old, he was cut down by the awful virus.

I came to know Willie Stern through his work in Kovno. He was in my house a few months ago, and at age 86 he was energetic as he planned for the future. An aristocrat and gentleman, he created a revolution of Yiddishkeit in its formerly forsaken home in historic Kovno. He was well known in London, where he made his home, and around the world for his many acts of charity and kindness.

Rav Yosef Kantor was a tzaddik and talmid chochom who lived in Monsey. Rav Avrohom Gordon was a rebbi in Monsey for some fifty years. He was a fine man, always with a smile and something nice to say. Rav Boruch Hersh Feder of Williamsburg was learned and knowledgeable, a great conversationalist and a good friend.

Rav Ze’ev Rothschild of Lakewood was loyal and principled, and always unfailingly honest in his interactions with the Yated. Noach Dear sought to use his life to do good and be mekadeish shem Hashem in the halls of power and justice.

Rav Nachman Morgan was my parents’ tenant after he married Esther Schapiro, a daughter of Rav Zorach. He also spent his life teaching Torah. He introduced me to the tapes of Rav Shalom Schwadron when I was a young boy. I was so enamored by him; I can still repeat the first shmuess Reb Nachman played for me on a cassette player.

Mrs. Chana Tabak was in a league all her own. Together with her husband, she built a home of Torah and chochmah in which she raised an outstanding generation. A dear and treasured friend, she excelled not only in wisdom and wit, but also in chesed and maasim tovim. She was the paragon and epitome of a Jewish mother.

I can go on, but it is too sad and painful to reminisce about all the people I knew who were niftar over the past month. Read the pages of this paper and weep over all the korbanos.

Let us all resolve to do our best to fill the gap left by the passing of hundreds of gutteh Yidden around the world. Let us fill the gap left by so many people everywhere being forced to daven without a minyan. Let us fill the gap created by the closing of yeshivos and schools.

Let us daven that Hashem quickly remove the awful plague from our midst.

In the Merit of Emunah

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

At the Seder, we raise the matzah and recite Ha Lachma Anya to open the Maggid section. We say that the matzah we are about to eat is the same matzah our forefathers ate in Mitzrayim. We continue with a seemingly unconnected invitation to poor people to join our meal. We conclude with the declaration that this year we are here, in golus, but next year we will be in Eretz Yisroel. Now we are enslaved, but in the coming year we will be free.

Why does this series of statements open the discussion about Yetzias Mitzrayim? What is the connection between these sentences? Why do we hold up the matzah?

Repeatedly, the Torah refers to the Yom Tov of Pesach as Chag Hamatzos. In davening and Kiddush, we also refer to the Yom Tov as Yom Chag Hamatzos. Why is matzah the symbol of Pesach?

The first time the Bnei Yisroel ate matzah was as they left Mitzrayim. Writing about that time, the Yalkut Shimoni in Parshas Beshalach says, “Lo nigalu Yisroel ela b’zechus emunah, shene’emar, ‘Vaya’amein ha’am.’” The Jews were redeemed from Mitzrayim only because of their deep belief in Hashem.

That statement apparently contradicts the teaching of Chazal that the Jews and the Mitzrim were basically on the same low spiritual level at the time of Yetzias Mitzrayim. If they were indeed on a low level, how can we say that they were redeemed from Mitzrayim in the merit of their faith in Hashem?

The Zohar refers to matzah as “michla demehemnusah,” food of emunah. We can understand that to mean that upon eating the matzah while leaving Mitzrayim, the Bnei Yisroel were infused with emunah, and through that emunah, they merited the geulah.

Rav Moshe Shapiro explains that matzah is a tikkun for the cheit of Adam Harishon.

We can understand the connection through the Gemara (Brachos 40a) that cites the opinion of Rabi Yehuda, who explains that the Eitz Hadaas from which Adam ate was wheat. The Gemara explains that we see that wheat is connected to daas, because a child cannot call his father or mother until he tastes wheat. When we partook of the matzah at the time of Yetzias Mitzrayim, our daas was enhanced and we gained the ability to connect to Hashem on a higher level.

The idea that those who believe in Hashem and place their faith in him see salvation is presented in pesukim, Chazal, Rishonim and Acharonim. It is the way we should lead our lives if we wish to merit success in all we do.

The Ramban (Emunah Ubitachon 1) points out that the posuk in Tehillim (37:3) states, “Betach baHashem va’asei tov - Have faith in Hashem and do good,” instead of stating, “Do good and trust in Hashem.” This is because bitachon is not dependent on a person’s good actions.

The Brisker Rov expressed a similar idea. The posuk (Tehillim 33:21) states, “Ki vo yismach libeinu ki vesheim kadsho botochnu yehi chasdecha Hashem aleinu ka’asher yichalnu loch.” The Rov read it to be saying that the amount of faith we have in Hashem is the degree to which Hashem will deal with us mercifully.

Rabbeinu Bachya writes (Kad Vekemach, Bitachon) that it was in merit of their belief that the Jews were redeemed from Mitzrayim. He cites the posuk in Tehillim (22:6) of “Eilecha zo’aku venimlotu,” and says that the reason they were saved was because “becha votchu velo voshu,” they believed.

The Meshech Chochmah, on the posuk of “Ushemartem es hamatzos” (Shemos 12:17), writes that when the Bnei Yisroel will be shomer the matzos (and other mitzvos of Nissan), Hashem will be shomer the night of the Seder to redeem them.

Rabbeinu Yonah writes in Mishlei (3:26) that a person who trusts in Hashem is saved from a tzarah even if he deserved the tzarah. A person’s bitachon prevents the problem from afflicting him. As the Yalkut says in Tehillim (32), “even a rasha who has bitachon is surrounded by chesed.”

The Chofetz Chaim (Sheim Olam, Nefutzos Yisroel 9) quotes the Vilna Gaon who said that bitachon is not dependent upon a person’s zechuyos. Even a person who is not properly observant but maintains strong belief is protected by his bitachon and Hashem acts charitably with him.

Bitachon is not something that is reserved only for big tzaddikim. Any one of us, no matter our level, can have perfect emunah and bitachon. When faced with a problem, when it appears as if life is being tough with us, we all have the ability to be boteiach in Hashem and be helped.

Matzah is the symbol of Pesach because it encompasses all the messages of the Seder. As we consider and contemplate the exalted moment when our forefathers left Mitzrayim, we eat the very same matzah, unchanged in formula and taste, at the very moment they did, on the same night, year after year, century after century, going back all the way to the day our nation was founded. With this matzah, we became a nation. We gave up avodah zorah, left the shibbud Mitzrayim, and emerged as bnei chorin.

This is as prescribed by the Rambam, who states (Hilchos Chometz Umatzah 7:1), “There is a positive commandment to discuss the miracles that were performed for our forefathers in Mitzrayim on the evening of the 15th of Nissan, as the posuk says, ‘Zachor, remember the day you left Mitzrayim…,’ and the posuk states, ‘Vehigadeta livincha,’ to tell your children on that night, meaning the night on which matzah and maror are placed before you.”

The Ramban at the end of Parshas Bo discusses the centrality of sippur Yetzias Mitzrayim to Jewish belief: “Because Hashem does not perform public miracles in each generation for scoffers to witness, He commanded us that we should make memorials for what we saw and tell our children what transpired so that they will know and pass along to their children the great miracles that were performed on our behalf. This is why so many mitzvos are zeicher l’Yetzias Mitzrayim, in commemoration of our redemption from Mitzrayim, so that future generations will remember what Hashem did for us then.

“And just as Hashem publicly performed miracles for the Jews in Mitzrayim, so does He perform miracles for us every day of our lives. Those who observe the mitzvos are rewarded, and those who do not are punished.”

This is the foundation of Jewish belief and what we refer to as Hashgocha Protis. When we sit at the Seder and retell the stories of the many miracles that took place at that time, we increase our emunah and bitachon, and that engenders more zechuyos for us. This is another indication and explanation of the statement of the Zohar that matzah is michla demehemnusah, the food of faith.

With this in mind, we can explain why we begin the Seder by saying, “Ha lachma anya di achalu avhasana b’ara d’Mitzrayim.” We proclaim that this is the bread that our forefathers ate in Mitzrayim when they were still poor and lacking in their observance of mitzvos, as well as in their emunah and bitachon in Hashem. Upon eating the matzah, they were strengthened in their emunah and belief in Hashem and thus merited redemption from slavery.

Thus, we advise people who are lacking in faith, “Kol ditzrich yeisei veyeichol. Join us and partake of the matzah, michla demehemnusah. Doing so will infuse you with faith.” Then we can say, “Hoshata hocha leshana haba’ah b’ara d’Yisroel.” Those who are still needy and lacking in their faith will, by eating the matzah, become strengthened in emunah and bitachon and worthy of the geulah sheleimah bekarov. “Hoshata avdi leshana haba’ah bnei chorin.” Before partaking of the matzah and discussing the exit from Mitzrayim, we are slaves to our desires. After the matzah and reliving the geulah experience, we become free.

The Gemara in Maseches Brachos (17a) relates that Klal Yisroel tells Hashem, “Galui veyodua lefonecha sheretzoneinu laasos es retzonecha. Umi me’akeiv? Se’or sheba’isa. We wish to fulfill Your will, but the se’or sheba’isa prevents us.” Rashi explains that se’or sheba’isa is the yeitzer hora, which ferments us as yeast ferments dough.

Matzah is lechem geulim because it is baked without chimutz, without se’or. One who subjugates his yeitzer hora is a ga’ul. He is redeemed and free. Thus, Chazal state, “Ein lecha ben chorin ela mi she’oseik baTorah.” The free man is occupied with Torah, for he has conquered his yeitzer hora.

The original matzah didn’t rise because, as we say in the Haggadah, “Lo hispik lehachmitz ad shenigla aleihem Melech Malchei Hamelochim uge’olom.” Hashem redeemed the Jewish people from Mitzrayim suddenly, before the dough they were baking for their trip was able to rise, and thus they were left with matzah.

Matzah symbolizes freedom, because it came into existence amidst the great urgency with which Hashem hurried His people out of Mitzrayim. The cause - Jewish nationhood - didn’t allow for the bread to reach completion. It didn’t allow for se’or and chimutz. Bread of freedom and a life of freedom are brought about by the same process: removal of se’or and chimutz. A person cleanses his soul of sin by being preoccupied with serving Hashem and studying Torah instead of feeding temptations. Doing so helps man break free from the various burdens and obligations life places upon him.

We open our Seder with the statement that the night - the entire Yom Tov, in fact - is about the matzah, the food of freedom. The first phrase tells us that it was “eaten when we left Mitzrayim,” in reference to our being rushed out. It was baked without the se’or sheba’isa.

We address the ditzrich, turning to those who are lacking in life and service to Hashem. “Join us!” we say. “Eat and learn from the matzah, and you will also be blessed and free along with us and all those who enjoy the blessings of Pesach. You will be impoverished no more.”

We continue by acknowledging that while we are now unable to bring the Korban Pesach, if we have indeed internalized the message of the matzah, we will be able to offer Pesochim and Zevochim next year in Eretz Yisroel.

Finally, we acknowledge that now we are still enslaved. The se’or sheba’isah interferes with our lives. We have been unable to expel it from our souls. We affirm our commitment to examining the message, studying the lessons of “Ha Lachma Anya.” Even though we are now captive to the yeitzer hora, we resolve that by next year, we will be free of its domination over us. We remind ourselves that the matzah is lechem geulim. Not only is it the bread of the free, but it helps those enslaved to gain their freedom.

Simple, unconstrained, and as free as the matzah.

Fortunate is he who doesn’t require suffering or challenges to be reminded of his essence but is able to see it clearly in good times as well.

With this insight into matzah and its message, we can begin to celebrate, starting with g’nus and marching our way on to geulah, a journey from Ha Lachma Anya through Afikoman.

After partaking of the Afikoman matzah, we are forbidden to eat anything, for we must keep that message fresh on our palates. We must not forget what we have learned and experienced on this night.

The matzah has seen us in times of strength and apparent weakness, but always with faith in Hashem and our future. Always with the knowledge that come what may, we are the am hanivchor, chosen, blessed and free.

We cherish the taste of matzah. We eat it and become transformed. We become strengthened in our belief and become worthy of geulah. With our newfound emunah and bitachon, we are capable of transcending limitations imposed by the se’or sheba’isa and the challenges of golus.

No matter what ails and confounds us, and regardless of the difficulties we have in our daily lives, we remain steadfast in our faith in Hashem, acting as bnei chorin.

Pesach is the Yom Tov of emunah. Let us learn its lessons, observe its mitzvos, partake in its matzah, and merit personal and communal geulah.

This year, we will be celebrating Pesach differently than ever. We mourn the passing of so many people, cut down by the virus. We pray that the mageifah ends and we become liberated from the disease that threatens us. As we conduct the Seder and observe its mitzvos, we reinforce our emunah and bitachon and look forward to the coming redemption, speedily in our days.

Chag kosher vesomeiach.