The connection of this week’s haftarah from Sefer Yishayahu (prakim 27-28) to the parasha is difficult to understand. HaRav Yehudah Shaviv suggests a number of possible connections, among them the fact that the haftarah alludes to the exodus from Egypt some two or three times. And yet, he comments, this very fact adds to the difficulty of finding a connection to the parasha. The haftarah, although including some psukim of criticism and condemnation, is primarily a vision of the yet-to-come redemption. This promise of a glorious future includes the well-known prophecy of how Hashem will sound the great shofar and bring the lost and the wayward back to Yerushalayim to worship G-d there (27, 13). The parasha, on the other hand, does not describe the geulah but rather the anguish and oppression of the galut in Mitzrayim! Why then the choice to read this haftarah?
I would suggest that a key to solving this problem may be found in the latter part of the haftarah, that section which condemns the hedonistic behavior of Yehudah, the Southern kingdom. There we find Yishayahu asking the question: “Et mi yoreh de’ah...?” - “To whom shall I teach knowledge...or explain my message?” The people, the navi claims, are on an almost infantile level, incapable of understanding G-d’s message. He therefore concludes that they must be taught “kav lakav, tzav latzav,” “commandment by commandment, line by line” as a child would be taught.
We often forget that one of the purposes of the Egypt “experience” was that of education. Not simply teaching Pharaoh and the Egyptians of Hashem’s existence and His power (remember how Pharaoh responds to Moshe’s initial request by stating, “I do not know G-d”), but also educating Bnai Yisrael as to Who Hashem is and what He wants of them. And this teaching is done one plague by one plague, one mitzvah by one mitzvah, to a nation whose knowledge of G-d was limited, if not almost childish.
It was, perhaps, this point that our ancient scholars saw in the words of Yishayahu that convinced them that this selection was a fitting one for the parasha of Shemot.
In effect, the galut experience is not to be seen as conflicting with the idea of geulah. Rather, as the Maharal suggests, galut is a necessary experience for our eventual geulah.
A lesson so important for us to understand.
All of Us
Based on the Meor Einayim
The core of our exile in Mitzrayim was a galus of da’as. Not a dimming of our general comprehension or understanding, but of the da’as necessary to truly serve Hashem.
True da’as is the engine that drives yirah and ahavah. How could this not be so? When a person fully understands and internalizes that Hashem fills the universe with His Kavod – that there is nowhere and nothing devoid of His Being; that He is both the Source of all pleasure that can be conceived and the One who sustains all things – so that if it could be conceived that He would withdraw from His Creation, all things would disappear into a primordial chaos; that His withdrawal even from any of the spiritual worlds would preclude their existence – when a person grasps these things, he will not desire any other pleasure in the universe. He will understand that Hashem Himself is the essence of anything he would desire and comes to desire only Him! He will not make the mistake of taking any pleasure dissociated from the Divine Influence that shines from within it. (Such dissociation is never neutral. It always divides between a person and his Creator.)
Ahavah is described by Chazal as pertaining to “each and every middah that Hashem measures out to you.” This is a reflection of the reality that Hashem’s supernal light radiates from His infinitude. It seems incongruous with the limitations of this world. Indeed, it is. This existence cannot contain it. It therefore has to come to us through His different middos, which restrain and confine His light to forms that are manageable in this world. Each one contracts that light in a different way and mediates it in a manner that is fit for the world that we know.
What determines which middos He uses? Largely, it is our da’as. Depending on how much da’as we have at a given time, He hides more or less of what He is and, conversely, reveals more or less. At some times, it may be through the middah of rachamim; at others, it might b’chessed. Or it could be some other middah. These middos have enormous impact on practical aspects of our lives. One who loves Hashem will accept whatever middah Hashem shows him with joy, understanding that he is being shown exactly what is appropriate for him on his level. He will accept a display of din as an exercise of His mercy, thereby transforming it into the latter! Thus, Chazal tell us that tzaddikim turn middas ha’din into rachamim.
Like Avraham Avinu, each of us have to be tested. We are made to submit to many nisyonos/challenges. The substance of each nisayon is removing the connection to Hashem that was enabled previously by a person’s da’as. His da’as then becomes restricted from what it was before. The nisayon is navigated successfully when a person can make the right choices based on the imprint his da’as left upon him before it was diminished.
In Egypt, our da’as was occluded. Just as a shell encases the edible portion, in the infancy of our peoplehood, our da’as was encased by a kelipah. That kelipah was broken with the Exodus, which allowed da’as to be activated. (Thin layers of kelipah remain, to be removed only in the days of Moshiach.) The process continues throughout time. Evildoers still find themselves within the kelipah and have no true da’as at all. They are still locked into the restraints/metzarim of Mitzrayim. The rest of us find relief each Pesach from what clouds our da’as. Thus, the geulah continues. This is what the Haggadah means when it states that it was not just our ancestors whom Hashem redeemed from Egypt, but all of us.
RABBI NACHMAN WINKLER
RABBI YITZCHAK ADLERSTEIN
