DEFINING A NATION - PESACH

On Pesach we celebrate Yetsias Mitzrayim and express our endless gratitude to Hashem for extracting us from the terrible slavery that we endured there. However, there is a great difficulty with the whole essence of this festival. Imagine Reuven is walking down the street and suddenly someone appears in front of him holding a steel bar and strikes his leg very hard, causing it to break. Whilst Reuven is sprawled out on the floor in agony, his assailant approaches him and calmly informs him that there is no need to worry because he is a surgeon and will happily perform the operation to help heal Reuven’s broken leg. He performs the surgery and Reuven’s leg does indeed heal. How should Reuven feel about this person - should he feel tremendous gratitude that he healed him? Of course not! - He would much rather have preferred if he had never been hit, and consequently would not have needed surgery. Similarly on Pesach we thank Hashem for taking us out of Mitzrayim but the question must be asked: ‘who put us there initially?!’ It was Hashem Himself - so why are we thanking Him so profusely for a chesed that need not have been required at all?!

It must be that the actual process of being taken out of Mitzrayim was essential to the future of the Jewish people and that the slavery was necessary in order to facilitate it. How is this so? The sefarim discuss how the beginning of something is the defining factor in how that thing will develop. For example, the intial DNA of a fertilised egg contains all the genetic information that will eventually sprout into a human being. The way in which it is formed will have a great effect on how it develops.

Yetsias Mitzrayim was the birth of a nation, the beginning of the process that led us to receive the Torah and enter Eretz Yisroel. Accordingly, the way in which Klal Yisroel was formed had a huge impact on its subsequent development. It determined that the spiritual laws governing Klal Yisroel were completely different from those of the other nations. Historically most nations are formed when a large group of people settles an area of land or overcomes another group and seizes control of their land, which then becomes the home of this nation. The birth of Klal Yisroel was very different in many respects: Firstly, we did nothing to facilitate the Exodus - the Ten Plagues which caused the Mitzrim to send us out were purely Divine acts, with no input from us. Secondly, whilst most nations are born in their own land, we were born in a foreign country - a unique historical event. But the most important difference is the manner in which our creation took place. Whilst other nations are formed according to the normal laws of nature, we were formed in a totally miraculous fashion - the Ten Plagues were completely beyond derech hateva as was the Splitting of the Sea. This is of immense significance - it defined the way in which the ‘laws of nature’ would effect Klal Yisroel. The other nations and their inhabitants live according to derech hateva - there are historical trends that define the development of the nations. In contrast the history of Klal Yisroel developed according to a different set of laws, laws that are above derech hateva. This was defined by our formation - Yetsias Mitzrayim.

We asked why we are so thankful to Hashem for freeing us from the slavery. The answer is that we are grateful that He put us in the slavery and then took us out. It was only because we were so weak and helpless that our formation could be completely in the hands of Hashem - it was impossible to attribute any aspect of Yetsias Mitzrayim to our power. Had we been free men who lived in Mitzrayim and not slaves, and then left it for Eretz Yisroel, it would have been very easy for us to attribute some or all of our success to our own hands - there would have been the yetser hara of ‘my power and my strength enabled me to achieve this success’. Instead the slavery facilitated the miraculous events that characterized Yetsias Mitzrayim which were clearly completely from the Yad Hashem and involved no input from any human being . This explains the halacha that we must discuss the ’genai’ of the story of Yetsias Mitzrayim before the ‘shvach’. The genai was intrinsic to the course of events that led to our formation in such a miraculous fashion, without it, the ‘shvach’, that is the miracles which became the model for our existence, could never have happened.

We have thus far discussed how the formation of Klal Yisroel dictated that our actual existence be defined by a completely different set of ‘laws of nature’ than those of the other nations. How has this manifest itself? The Aish Hatorah Discovery Seminar teaches a class known as ’the Seven Wonders of Jewish History’. This class shows how there are several unique factors that set apart Jewish history from that of the rest of the world. These include: The eternal and chosen status of the Jewish people; their predicted survival despite their exile and worldwide dispersion; their predicted survival in the face of persistent, vehement anti-Semitism. A nation that is forced to leave its own homeland on more than onc occasion, whilst facing tremendous persecution, is by the regular ‘laws of history’, destined either to be destroyed or assimilated into other nations. That the Jewish people have not faced this fate is clearly an indication of a unique pattern of history.

This concept of Klal Yisroel living above Derech hateva also shows itself in how observant Jews conduct their daily lives. We often do not act according to the dictates of regular ‘common sense’. For example, many businesses are the most busy on Shabbos and therefore logic dictates that one work on Shabbos. However, observant Jews know that the laws of the Torah override this practical attitude. We realize that our financial well-being is not determined by how much we work, and that any work on Shabbos would not reap any benefit.

It is clear that the observant Jew follows a unique lifestyle based on the dictates of the Torah, nevertheless it seems that there are still areas where this lesson provides a great challenge in life. What is the overall attitude with which one approaches life? Does he focus primarily on materialistic success as his source of happiness, or does he realize that spiritual considerations override this. For example, in a purely logical way of approaching life, it would be far more sensible to work more hours than to spend a few hours each day learning Torah. However, according to an outlook that transcends the normal laws of nature, one would realize that learning Torah is ultimately far more important than making that extra bit of money that is not necessary for survival. This is just one example of a general attitude that encompasses the major decision each Jew needs to think over every Pesach - that is, do I live my life according to the regular laws of nature like the goyim or do I realize that a Jew’s ambitions are completely different, defined by an understanding of the unique nature of Klal Yisroel. My Rebbe, Rav Yitzhak Berkovits Shlita explains that this is also the main lesson that we should have in mind during the Seder: The Haggadah tells us that we are obligated to see ourselves as if we left Mitzrayim ourselves - this does not just mean that we should re-live the actual story of the Exodus. Whilst this is praiseworthy, it is not the ultimate goal. The ikar is that we should see ourselves as being part of the Nation that left Mitzrayim in a miraculous fashion, a Nation that was formed to be the Am Hashem. And consequently we must realize that this places upon us a responsibility - that we must live our lives according to the laws that guide an Am Hashem; our life goals must be primarily guided by spiritual considerations. And if we live life with such an attitude then Hashem reflects that in how He guides us - with no limits of the ‘laws of nature’, rather He will enable us to fulfil our spiritual goals in a way that transcends nature. We should all have a Chag kasher v’sameach.

THE FREEDOM OF TORAH - NASSO AND SHAVUOS

The parsha discusses the mitzva of Nezirus, whereby a person takes a vow to abstain from wine, to avoid coming into contact with a dead body, and to let his hair grow . The author of Toras Avraham, Rav Avraham Grodzinki zt”l , discusses a number of difficulties with regard to the spiritual standing of the Nazir. He notes that at one point the Torah describes him as ’holy’ for depriving himself of physical pleasure . However, soon after, in the process of describing the sacrifices that he brings, it tells us that he must bring a sin-offering to atone for a certain aveira that he has committed. What is that aveira? Rashi brings the opinion of Rebbe Elazar Hakappa that his sin was that he caused himself pain by depriving himself of the enjoyment of drinking wine . Thus there is a blatant contradiction as to whether the Nazir is doing a great mitza or is in fact committing an aveira.

The Toras Avraham answers that the Nazir is doing the right thing - he is someone who feels an unhealthy tendency towards physical pleasure, and therefore deems it necessary to make the drastic step of taking a vow of Nezirus. However, there is an element of sin in this action that requires atonement. The Toras Avraham explains that G-d created man with a body and soul and that it is wrong for man to totally neglect his body. Man‘s job in this world is to live in the physical world but to elevate it. The Nazir feels that he cannot do this without totally abstaining from wine. He is correct for acting this way, but in doing so, he causes his body considerable discomfort because it has a certain level of shibud (attachment) to the physical world and feels pain at being deprived of the pleasures that the physical world has to offer. Consequently, he is considered ‘holy’ for undertaking such a bold process of purification, but simultaneously needs to bring a sin offering for causing pain to his body .

Having explained the duality in the act of Nezirus, the Torah Avraham then poses a new problem. He brings the Ramban at the beginning of Parshas Kedoshim who writes that it is not sufficient to merely observe mitzvas but live a life full of indulgence, rather the Torah requires us to ’be holy’. To fulfill this mitzva, he writes that one must abstain from physical pleasures. He even equates the holy man to the Nazir who is described as being holy for abstaining from wine. However, he makes absolutely no allusion to any sin committed by abstaining from physical pleasures even though it seems to cause pain to the ’holy’ man’s body. The Toras Avraham writes that this Ramban is discussing the level of a ‘Talmid Chacham’, a person who strives to separate himself from the luxuries of this world. This leads to the obvious question: What is the difference between the Nazir who sinned by abstaining from wine, and the Talmid Chacham who commits no sin in following a similar process?!

The answer is that there is a fundamental difference between the prishus (separation) of the Nazir and that of the Talmid Chacham. The Nazir is subject to a strong physical drive for the baser pleasures such as wine. It is painful for him to withdraw from partaking of them, therefore he is considered to be sinning by causing himself pain. In contrast the Talmid Chacham feels no pain at avoiding physical self-indulgence because he is not bound to his physical drives. He has such a strong recognition of the futile and transient nature of physical pleasures that it is not difficult for him to abstain from them. Thus, whilst the Nazir needs atonement for causing himself pain, the Talmid Chacham is not considered to have committed any kind of misdemeanor.

We learn from here a fundamental principle; that the ideal way of separating from physical pleasures should not involve a painful process of self-deprivation. Rather it should emanate from a natural sense of the ultimate futility of physical gratification. This stands in stark contrast to the secular attitude to self-deprivation. This is most manifest in the widespread attempts of people to lose weight through intense diets. These largely fail and it seems that a significant reason for this is that denying oneself food is a cause of great self-affliction. The dieter does not free himself of a desire for pleasant tasting foods, rather often his craving for them actually increases. Thus he goes through a painful process of self-deprivation which invariably cannot last indefinitely. It seems that the Torah approach to food should automatically enable a person to eat healthily and even lose weight . If a person frees himself from his shibudim to physical pleasures, then abstaining from them will become a painless process. One ben Torah who was somewhat overweight and was known to eat large amounts of food, undertook to reduce his food intake through a gradual process of reducing his shibudim to food - in the process he lost about thirty pounds in a few months!

It still needs to be understood how a person can reach the level of the Talmid Chacham and be able to separate from physical pleasures without causing himself discomfort. The key seems to be that if one develops a strong appreciation for spirituality then he automatically frees himself of a shibud to physicality. A yeshiva bachur once asked Rav Noach Orlowek Shlita that he looked forward to lunch more than mincha - how could he change this? Rav Orlowek answered him that he should deepen his appreciation for tefilla and by doing so he would automatically reduce his preference for lunch.

This dichotomy is highly relevant to our relationship with Torah that we celebrate on Shavuos. The Mishna in Avos exhorts us that the way of Torah is to eat bread and salt, drink water and sleep on the ground . This does not necessarily mean that to become a Talmid Chacham one must live in this fashion, rather the Mishna is telling us that we should develop such a deep appreciation for Torah that the baser pleasures become meaningless. Consequently, for a person to aspire to be a Talmid Chacham he must be willing and able to live in a sparse way. Thus, even if he does have access to a higher standard of living he will nevertheless be able to focus on the higher pleasure of learning Torah. However, if he feels a great pull to physical comfort then it will be impossible for him to sufficiently devote himself to Torah.

This principle of freeing oneself from physical pleasures is connected to Shavuos in another way. The Magen Avraham discusses the widespread Minhag for men to stay awake on the night of Shavuos. He suggests that the reason for this is based on a Medrash that the Jewish people slept the whole night before Mattan Torah and Hashem had to wake them up. We try to metaken (fix) this error by staying awake for the whole night . What is the underlying meaning in this Minhah? It seems that whilst the Jewish people were ready to receive the Torah, nonetheless on a certain level, they also felt a degree of apprehension at the implications of doing so. It would require a high level of self-deprivation and place great demands on them. This apprehension manifest itself through sleep which represents the ultimate escape from the challenges of life. It is very common that when a person feels troubled or depressed he turns to sleep as a way of escaping his problems. The Jewish people were excited about receiving the Torah and knew that it offered them a far deeper and more meaningful form of existence but deep down they also felt a shibud to the physical pleasures that they would now have to forsake . In order to metaken this ‘sin’, we deprive ourselves of sleep to demonstrate that the joy of receiving the Torah far outweighs the loss of physical comforts such as sleep.


We have seen how there are two ways in which a person can deprive himself of physical pleasures. The Nazir’s self-deprecation causes him considerable discomfort, whilst the Talmid Chacham feels no pain in refraining from such pleasures. Our goal is to reduce our shibudim to the physical world through a heightened sense of appreciation for spirituality. Shavuos is an apt time to work on developing this love of spirituality by recognizing that the joy of learning Torah all night far outweighs that of sleeping!

FREEING OURSELVES - BESHALACH

The Parsha begins with a description of how the Jewish people finally left Egypt and the yoke of Pharaoh. As they faced the Yam Suf (Sea of Reeds) they suddenly saw that the Egyptian army was chasing after them. After cyring out to HaShem and then complaining to Moshe, they walked into the sea and the miracle of Krias Yam Suf (the Splitting of the Sea) took place. After crossing the sea, they witnessed the final destruction of the Egyptian army. At this point, the Torah tells us; “On that day HaShem delivered Israel from the hand of Egypt, and Israel saw the people dead on the seashore”. The Ibn Ezra notes the Torah’s emphasis that it was only on that day that the Jews were fully free of the yoke of the Egyptians. He explains that even after they left Egypt, they still felt a great sense of fear of Pharaoh and only became completely free of the Egyptian yoke once they saw the final destruction of the might of the Egyptians at the Yam Suf. Their feelings of subjugation (shibud) to the Egyptians were not allayed by merely ‘escaping’ . It was only when they saw the Egyptians destroyed that they were were now able to be fully free of their self-image as ‘Pharaoh’s slaves’.
The Hagaddah’s description of the nature of the subjugation to the Egyptians teaches us a similar lesson to that of the Ibn Ezra. The Hagaddah tell us: “We were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt; HaShem, our G-d took us out from there with a strong Hand. And if HaKadosh Baruch Hu did not take our fathers out of Egypt, we and our children, and our children’s children would be enslaved to Pharaoh in Egypt.” The obvious question on the Haggadah’s assertion is that it is very difficult indeed to imagine that had the Exodus not taken place, then we would all still be slaves to the Egyptians – indeed the Egyptian Empire disintegrated thousands of years ago! One answer given is that the Hagaddah does not mean that we would be physically enslaved (meshubad) to Egypt, however there would still remain an element of a physchological shibud to Pharaoh and his people. We would have become physically free, but we would never have escaped from, and overcome, the Egyptians. Rather, we would have become free by default, and consequently, we would never have fully broken the self-image of ourselves as people who are controlled by another nation and not free to fully express ourselves.
These explanations provide us with a very important foundation with regard to the challenge of how to deal with negative forces that hold power over us; this includes people who control us in an unhealthy manner, destructive addictions; and general weapons of the yetser hara such as lust (taiva). It seems from the example of the Exodus that there are two stages in freeing oneself from a negative influence. The first stage is to escape the source of negativity, in the same way that the Jewish people left Egypt. The second is to overcome or eliminate that source – this took place with the destruction of the Egyptian army in the sea. The Ibn Ezra teaches us that whilst escaping the source of shibud is often an essential stage, it is insufficient in fully freeing oneself. One can only become fully free by attaining the second stage. Accordingly, it was only when the Jewish people saw the Egyptians finally destroyed, that they were able to be fully free of the Egyptian enslavement.
There are two key lessons that can be learnt out from the above. Firstly, a person needs to recognize which stage of freedom he has attained. It is particularly important for him to be aware when he has not fully overcome the shibud to his negative influence, rather that he has only escaped it. One strategy of people who give up addictions is to acknowledge that they have not fully overcome the addiction, rather they have only removed themselves from it. For example, some people who have given up smoking for many years still describe themselves as ‘smokers’. In this way they remind themselves that they are still at risk of falling back into the trap of nicotine addiction and therefore they studiously avoid even one cigarette. If, however, they would convince themselves that they have no remnants of addiction then they would feel able to have one cigarette and not resume their addiction. However, often this is not the case, and one ‘harmless’ cigarette could easily thrust them back into the clutches of their dangerous addiction. The second, and more difficult lesson, is that one must strive to reach the second stage of fully overcoming their shibud to the degree that one is fully free.
It seems that these two stages are alluded to by the Rambam in his discussion of different levels of teshuva (repentance). He writes that complete teshuva can only be attained when a person is thrust into the exact same situation that he previously failed in, and now he overcomes his yetser hara. A lower level of teshuva is when a person goes through the four stages that are required to repent, but he still may not be at the level where he would overcome his yetser hara were he to be forced into the same situation. It seems that the lower level is the stage of escaping his yetser hara, whereas the second stage of fully overcoming it is the complete teshuva that the Rambam refers to.
We have seen from the example of the Exodus that there are two stages of freeing oneself from negative influences – escaping is the first level and overcoming it is the second. One may wonder how it is possible to fully overcome forces that exert such power over us. This is obviously no simple matter and each specific case needs to be analyzed in and of itself, however, the story of the Splitting of the Sea does offer us two vital suggestions as to how one can hope to succeed. As the Ibn Ezra pointed out, the Jewish people did not destroy the Egyptians at all, rather HaShem did it for them. This teaches us that it is beyond human capacity to fully overcome such yetser haras, as Chazal say when they assert, that, “man’s yetser [tries to] overpower and destroy him every day… and if not for HaShem helping him, he would not be able to overcome it.” Accordingly, it is essential to turn to Heavenly guidance to be able to defeat whatever force it is that holds us back. However, we also see from the Splitting of the Sea that it is insufficient to merely sit back and rely on HaShem, for when Moshe prayed for help HaShem told him to stop praying and to tell the people to step into the Sea. It was only when they made those bold first steps into the sea that it split. We learn from here that, whilst it is impossible to overcome one’s yetser hara without HaShem, nonetheless, a person must be willing to make the effort. When he shows that he is prepared to do that, then HaShem does the rest. May we all merit to emulate the Jews at the Yam Suf and completely free ourselves of those forces that hold us back from fulfilling our potential.

MATZO - THE BREAD OF FREEDOM AND OF POVERTY - PESACH

Perhaps the most striking feature of the festival of Pesach is that of the unleavened bread known as matzo. Matzo plays a particularly prominent role in Seder night where there is a Torah obligation to eat a kezayis of matzo. However, the Maharal notes that there seems to be a contradiction as to what exactly the matzo represents. We begin the Haggadah by raising the matzos and stating: “This is the poor man’s bread that our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt..” This declaration focuses on the matzo as symbolic of the poverty that the Jewish people endured during their slavery in Egypt. Much later in the Hagaddah we again raise up the matzo, however, on this occasion we focus on the fact that we ate matzo as we escaped from Mitzrayim. In this vein, matzo is said to represent the freedom of escaping Mitzrayim. The Maharal asks that matzo seems to represent two, separate, and perhaps even contradictory concepts; poverty and freedom. How do we understand this seeming contradiction?[1]

In order to answer this question, we must first understand the concepts of slavery and freedom and then examine how matzo relates to them. The Maharal explains that a person is enslaved, in an existential sense, when he is attached to things that are external to his essence. He needs those things to give him a complete sense of identity and when he lacks them he feels deficient. Moreover, he becomes a slave to them in that they define certain aspects of how he lives his life. An obvious example is someone who has an addiction to alcohol or drugs. His need for a ‘fix’ drives his life, and determines much about how he lives his lifestyle. A less obvious, but, more common example, is when a person is ‘enslaved’ to his material possessions. His attachment to them may often adversely determine his life decisions. For example, years before the Holocaust took place, the German Jews recognized the threat from the Nazi regime. As a result, many of the less wealthy Jews decided to escape and leave their property behind. However, the more affluent Jews found it far more difficult to leave, because of the wealth that they had accumulated in Germany. Tragically, many of these Jews stayed in Germany with dire consequences. These peoples’ wealth determined that they made a terrible mistake. In contrast, a free person is one who recognizes that his true essence is his soul, accordingly, he is in no danger of becoming bound by his possessions. He views them as a means to a greater end, but he never sees them as being part of his being.[2]

The Maharal explains how matzo relates to these concepts. Matzo, is the combination of water and flour in its most basic form. If the dough is left to rise then it becomes chametz, which represents an addition to the pure essence of the matzo. In this sense, matzo is symbolic of the concept of freedom; that is, being free of anything external to one’s essence. Chametz, in contrast, is created when the yeast rises, and adds to the raw combination of water and flour. In this way, chametz represents additions to the pure essence.

With this understanding we can now explain how matzo can represent both freedom and poverty. A person who grows up with a high standard of living will almost certainly become so used to this standard that it will be extremely difficult for him to break away from it - in a certain sense he is meshubad to it. For example, a woman who grew up with an en suite bathroom all to herself, found it very difficult to adjust to sharing a bathroom when she got married. In contrast, one who begins with very little external baggage (in the form of material possessions) finds it far easier for him to avoid becoming meshubad (enslaved) to things that are external to himself. In this sense, poverty is highly conducive to the form of freedom that the Maharal describes. The poor person never accustomed himself to owning numerous possessions, thus he is not bound by them. This explains how matzo can represent both poverty and freedom. Poverty is conducive to freedom, because the poor person is not meshubad to the physical world and material possessions. Accordingly, the ‘poor man’s bread’ that the Jews ate in Mitzrayim represented the fact that they had no possessions that were external to their essence. Because they had nothing, it was far easier for them to attain the freedom of identifying themselves by their pure essence alone.

One may ask, why was it so important for the Jewish people to attain this level of freedom at this time in particular? The answer is that Yetsias Mitzrayim was the birth of the Jewish nation as the ‘Am HaShem’, a process that would lead to the receiving of the Torah. It was essential that at this time, they would be free of any external ‘baggage’ contaminating their true essence. The very fact that they were so poor during their tenure as slaves in Mitzrayim facilitated their ability to begin their new role as the Am HaShem.

On Pesach, and on Seder night in particular, we try to recapture this sense of freedom that our ancestors attained when they left Mitzrayim. We eat matzo as a symbolic reminder of the need to strip ourselves of things that are external to us and to find our pure essence.[3] Of course, it is insufficient to merely perform the rituals without trying to internalize their messages. Pesach is a time to examine our level of freedom; to assess how meshubad we are to things that are external to us; and to remind ourselves of our true essence - our souls and to remember that our spiritual accomplishments are the only things of true value.







[1] Maharal, Haggadah Shel Pesach, Divrei Negidim, p.51.
[2] Heard from Rav Aaron Lopiansky shlita.
[3] There are other aspects to the Seder night that allude to this concept of freedom. The Maharal writes further that the minhag to wear a kittel# on Seder night is based on this idea. The kittel is a plain white robe, representing the pure essence without anything external additions. Similarly, one cannot fulfill the mitzvo of matzo by eating matzo ashira (matzo that has additional ingredients) - this is also because it represents additions to one’s pure essence (heard from Rav Aaron Lopiansky shlita).

DEFINING A NATION - PESACH

On Pesach we celebrate Yetsias Mitzrayim and express our endless gratitude to Hashem for extracting us from the terrible slavery that we endured there. However, there is a great difficulty with the whole essence of this festival. Imagine Reuven is walking down the street and suddenly someone appears in front of him holding a steel bar and strikes his leg very hard, causing it to break. Whilst Reuven is sprawled out on the floor in agony, his assailant approaches him and calmly informs him that there is no need to worry because he is a surgeon and will happily perform the operation to help heal Reuven’s broken leg. He performs the surgery and Reuven’s leg does indeed heal. How should Reuven feel about this person - should he feel tremendous gratitude that he healed him? Of course not! - He would much rather have preferred if he had never been hit, and consequently would not have needed surgery. Similary on Pesach we thank Hashem for taking us out of Mitzrayim but the question must be asked: ‘who put us there initially?!’ It was Hashem Himself - so why are we thanking Him so profusely for a chesed that need not have been required at all?!

It must be that the actual process of being taken out of Mitzrayim was essential to the future of the Jewish people and that the slavery was necessary in order to facilitate it. How is this so? The sefarim discuss how the beginning of something is the defining factor in how that thing will develop. For example, the intial DNA of a fertilised egg contains all the genetic information that will eventually sprout into a human being. The way in which it is formed will have a great effect on how it develops.[1]

Yetsias Mitzrayim was the birth of a nation, the beginning of the process that led us to receive the Torah and enter Eretz Yisroel. Accordingly, the way in which Klal Yisroel was formed had a huge impact on its subsequent development. It determined that the spiritual laws governing Klal Yisroel were completely different from those of the other nations. Historically most nations are formed when a large group of people settles an area of land or overcomes another group and seizes control of their land, which then becomes the home of this nation. The birth of Klal Yisroel was very different in many respects: Firstly, we did nothing to facilitate the Exodus - the Ten Plagues which caused the Mitzrim to send us out were purely Divine acts, with no input from us. Secondly, whilst most nations are born in their own land, we were born in a foreign country - a unique historical event. But the most important difference is the manner in which our creation took place. Whilst other nations are formed according to the normal laws of nature, we were formed in a totally miraculous fashion - the Ten Plagues were completely beyond derech hateva as was the Splitting of the Sea. This is of immense significance - it defined the way in which the ‘laws of nature’ would effect Klal Yisroel. The other nations and their inhabitants live according to derech hateva - there are historical trends that define the development of the nations. In contrast the history of Klal Yisroel developed according to a different set of laws, laws that are above derech hateva. This was defined by our formation - Yetsias Mitzrayim.

We asked why we are so thankful to Hashem for freeing us from the slavery. The answer is that we are grateful that He put us in the slavery and then took us out. It was only because we were so weak and helpless that our formation could be completely in the hands of Hashem - it was impossible to attribute any aspect of Yetsias Mitzrayim to our power. Had we been free men who lived in Mitzrayim and not slaves, and then left it for Eretz Yisroel, it would have been very easy for us to attribute some or all of our success to our own hands - there would have been the yetser hara of ‘my power and my strength enabled me to achieve this success’. Instead the slavery facilitated the miraculous events that characterized Yetsias Mitzrayim which were clearly completely from the Yad Hashem and involved no input from any human being[2]. This explains the halacha that we must discuss the ’genai’ of the story of Yetsias Mitzrayim before the ‘shvach’. The genai was intrinsic to the course of events that led to our formation in such a miraculous fashion, without it, the ‘shvach’, that is the miracles which became the model for our existence, could never have happened.

We have thus far discussed how the formation of Klal Yisroel dictated that our actual existence be defined by a completely different set of ‘laws of nature’ than those of the other nations. How has this manifest itself? The Aish Hatorah Discovery Seminar teaches a class known as ’the Seven Wonders of Jewish History’. This class shows how there are several unique factors that set apart Jewish history from that of the rest of the world. These include: The eternal and chosen status of the Jewish people; their predicted survival despite their exile and worldwide dispersion; their predicted survival in the face of persistent, vehement anti-Semitism.[3] A nation that is forced to leave its own homeland on more than onc occasion, whilst facing tremendous persecution, is by the regular ‘laws of history’, destined either to be destroyed or assimilated into other nations. That the Jewish people have not faced this fate is clearly an indication of a unique pattern of history.

This concept of Klal Yisroel living above Derech hateva also shows itself in how observant Jews conduct their daily lives. We often do not act according to the dictates of regular ‘common sense’. For example, many businesses are the most busy on Shabbos and therefore logic dictates that one work on Shabbos. However, observant Jews know that the laws of the Torah override this practical attitude. We realize that our financial well-being is not determined by how much we work, and that any work on Shabbos would not reap any benefit.

It is clear that the observant Jew follows a unique lifestyle based on the dictates of the Torah, nevertheless it seems that there are still areas where this lesson provides a great challenge in life. What is the overall attitude with which one approaches life? Does he focus primarily on materialistic success as his source of happiness, or does he realize that spiritual considerations override this. For example, in a purely logical way of approaching life, it would be far more sensible to work more hours than to spend a few hours each day learning Torah. However, according to an outlook that transcends the normal laws of nature, one would realize that learning Torah is ultimately far more important than making that extra bit of money that is not necessary for survival. This is just one example of a general attitude that encompasses the major decision each Jew needs to think over every Pesach - that is, do I live my life according to the regular laws of nature like the goyim or do I realize that a Jew’s ambitions are completely different, defined by an understanding of the unique nature of Klal Yisroel.

My Rebbe, Rav Yitzhak Berkovits Shlita explains that this is also the main lesson that we should have in mind during the Seder: The Haggadah tells us that we are obligated to see ourselves as if we left Mitzrayim ourselves - this does not just mean that we should re-live the actual story of the Exodus. Whilst this is praiseworthy, it is not the ultimate goal. The ikar is that we should see ourselves as being part of the Nation that left Mitzrayim in a miraculous fashion, a Nation that was formed to be the Am Hashem. And consequently we must realize that this places upon us a responsibility - that we must live our lives according to the laws that guide an Am Hashem; our life goals must be primarily guided by spiritual considerations. And if we live life with such an attitude then Hashem reflects that in how He guides us - with no limits of the ‘laws of nature’, rather He will enable us to fulfil our spiritual goals in a way that transcends nature. We should all have a Chag kasher v’sameach.

[1] Rabbi Akiva Tatz Shlita discusses these ideas at length.
[2] This also explains why there is barely any mention of Moshe Rabbeinu in the Haggadah. Even he had no real input into Yetsias Mitzrayim - it was all from Hashem.
[3] See Waldmam, Beyond a Reasonable Doubt, Ch.4, p.157-187 for a comprehensive discussion of all Seven wonders and how they provide strong evidence of the veracity of the Torah.