Chassidic Insights for Parshah Bo

Chapter 10

[1] Come to Pharaoh: As stated in the Overview, the Torah's use of the expression "Come to Pharaoh" rather than "Go to Pharaoh" is striking. One way of explaining this is that the Exodus is predicated on approaching life as "coming" rather than "going."

"Going" implies that the home base is where one already is presently located; one is simply visiting the place he is "going to." "Coming," on the other hand, implies that one is moving his home base, that he is going where he is going with his whole being.

So when we commune with God in Torah study or prayer, we should be sure to "come" into the words and ideas, rather than just "go" there for a visit. This way, our study and prayer can affect us and change us; it can take us out of our personal Egypt.

Going out of our personal Egypt hastens the collective redemption of the Jewish people and all humanity, as well.1

[2] By warning him, you will intimate to him that despite the fact that I have hardened his heart, if he truly wishes to he can still repent: Despite God's intention to make a mockery of Pharaoh, the fact that He warned him that he would be punished for not complying means that, on some level, the door to repentance was still open. By hardening Pharaoh's heart, God had just made it difficult for him to repent—and since, as we have seen, this was a punishment for Pharaoh's own obstinacy, it means that Pharaoh himself had made it difficult for himself to repent. But had Pharaoh nonetheless summoned the inner strength to listen to his conscience, he could indeed have obeyed God's will, let the Jews go, and spared himself and his country the ensuing debacle.

Now, Pharaoh was the arch-embodiment of evil in his day, and he had already deadened himself to God's call so thoroughly that God was punishing him by practically taking away his free choice entirely. Even so, it was still possible for him to repent, and God commanded Moses to remind him of this. How much more so, then, is the door to repentance always open to the Jew, who is rooted in holiness and goodness—even if it seems otherwise.

The lessons for us here, therefore, are as follows: First, we must never succumb to fatalistic thinking. No matter how estranged we may feel from God, even if it appears that God has shut the door on us, nothing can resist sincere repentance. The apparent difficulty exists in order to inspire us to summon deeper and more powerful resolve.

Second, no matter how far another individual seems to be from Godliness and holiness, we must never despair of him. The door of return is always open; all we have to do is find the right words, encouraging him to mend his ways for his own betterment, and with God's help he will come back to his true, inner self.7

[23] The Israelites who did not want to leave…died: In the Exodus from Egypt, God did not force those Jews that did not want to leave to do so. By choosing to remain in Egypt, these individuals denied the purpose of their existence; their lives lost their meaning and had to be ended. This process purified the Jewish people, much as wine becomes purified as the dregs and other impurities settle over time.8

In contrast, in the future redemption from the present and final exile, even those Jews who do not consciously want to be redeemed will be taken out of exile.9

The Jews of the Exodus were able to choose not to be redeemed because the connection between God and the Jewish people at that time was the "natural" one between "parent" and "child"; in God's own words to Pharaoh: "My firstborn son is Israel, and I am telling you to send forth My son."10 Parents and children are bound to each other naturally and inseparably. Nonetheless, a child can chose not to honor this connection and rebel against his parent. By exercising their free choice and opposing their natural connection to God, the Jews in Egypt succeeded in overriding it.

But when God gave the Torah, He established a connection with us that transcended the previous, natural connection. When we exercise our free will, we reveal our essence, which transcends our nature. This is evidenced by the fact that we can choose to do something that contravenes our natural predilections. Similarly, when God chose us of His own free will to be His people and gave us the Torah, He did so not because He was bound to do so by any natural connection between Him and us, but rather despite it; His essence was not beholden to this natural connection. He thereby rooted us in His essence, deeper than we were rooted by virtue of the natural, parent-child connection.

Once we were rooted in God's essence, we became one with Him. From then on, it became impossible for us to really oppose our connection with God, since this connection has become part of our essence. Practically speaking, this is what made us into God's "slaves," so to speak, ultimately devoid of any desire or will other than to see His desires and will carried out.11

Of course, we can go through the motions of opposing our essential connection to God, but this is only superficial. Sooner or later, our deep, inner essence will surface, and this will make us all indeed be worthy of being redeemed.12

[23] There was light for all the Israelites in their dwellings: The Egyptians, like many ancient peoples, assumed that the opposing forces of day and night, light and darkness, were the manifestation of two opposing deities. God therefore caused darkness and light to occur simultaneously, so they could see that nature is ruled by one, supreme power.13

Chapter 11

[4] Exactly at midnight: Night is divided into two halves: from dusk until midnight, the sun sinks deeper below the horizon and the sky becomes progressively darker; from midnight until dawn, the sun begins its ascent to the opposite horizon and the sky becomes progressively lighter. The first half of the night is therefore associated with God's attribute of severity and judgment (gevurah), while the second half is associated with God's attribute of kindness (chesed).

Midnight, however, being the exact midpoint between the beginning and end of the night, is associated with neither attribute. In fact, midnight is just a theoretical construct rather than an actual span of time—for the moment immediately before midnight is part of the first half of the night and the moment immediately after it is part of the second half. Although midnight defines a specific time, it itself "takes up" no time, similar to how the corner where two walls intersect defines a location in space but itself takes up no space.

Midnight is thus beyond time, and it is by virtue of this transcendence that it can connect the two opposite halves of the night and negotiate the transition from the first to the second. Although we take for granted the "transition" from pre-midnight to post-midnight (as well as the "transition" from one direction to another), it in fact takes a time-transcending input to switch from one type of time to another (and a space-transcending input to change from one direction to another), since nature, by its own inertia, always tends to continue in the direction in which it is already going.

Hence the great significance of midnight: it is a "moment" when God's transcendence is revealed. The slaying of the firstborn therefore had to occur exactly at midnight, since it was the final stroke of the Exodus, and in order for the Exodus to occur God had to reveal His transcendence beyond the laws of nature. Naturally, the Exodus could never have occurred, since it was entirely "natural" for Egypt to be the world's superpower and enslave the Jews, etc. Nature had to be overruled, and this is the essence of midnight.17

Chapter 12

[1] God said to Moses and Aaron: This commandment, to declare a new month whenever the moon begins anew its cycle of growth and decline, is the first one God gave to the Jewish people as a collective whole.

As we have seen,18 Moses allegorically personified the "downward" revelation of the Torah from on high, while Aaron personified the "upward" striving of the soul toward Divinity. It was therefore appropriate that the first commandment be addressed to both of them, for the essence of the commandments is the connection between God and the people, the twin sides of which are Torah study and prayer.19

[2] This month, Nisan, shall be for you the beginning of the months: Until this point in history, Tishrei, the month of creation, was considered the first month of the year. Although the years continued to be counted from Tishrei, Nisan became the first month and Tishrei became the seventh.

This is because until the Exodus, the world was more or less entirely under the influence of the constant Divine forces God set in motion at the creation of the world and that we call "nature." True, there were occasional miracles here and there, but these were the rare exception rather than the rule. It was therefore fitting to consider Tishrei the primary month, since the forces of nature that govern the world came into being in that month.20

The Exodus, in contrast, heralded the birth of the Jewish people, who would not be subject to the limitations of nature. By virtue of their connection to God and His Torah, the people, both individually and collectively, would be living, walking miracles. The Exodus itself was the first, dramatic example of this freedom; the mass release of a whole population of slaves from the world's preeminent superpower proved to an awestruck world that this people were connected to a power that does not answer to the laws of nature. The survival of the Jews throughout history, despite all odds, further testifies to their defiance of natural law. But the most profound way in which the Jewish people transcends nature is by achieving, via the Torah, transcendent Divine consciousness—an awareness of God and connection to Him that is totally out of context in this finite, nature-oriented world.21

Since the world was now forever changed, Nisan, the miracle-month (the word Nisan means "miracle") became the primary month. True, nature still exists, and therefore the years are still counted from the first of Tishrei, which remains Rosh HaShanah, the day on which the world's material sustenance for the coming year is determined. But in terms of purpose, Nisan from now on assumes pride of place, for the purpose of creation is to infuse the natural order with God's transcendent presence through the Jewish people's dedication to the Torah and its commandments.22

[3] But they have neglected fulfilling My commandments for so long, they lack sufficient merits to warrant this: Just as God wanted the Jewish people to merit their redemption from Egypt, He wants us to merit our redemption from our present exile. And just has He wanted them to leave Egypt "with great wealth," He wants us to leave our present exile laden with the spiritual and material wealth we have accrued from persevering and passing the tests of exile.

In order to hasten the redemption, it is therefore incumbent upon us to accrue as much spiritual merit as we can, and to try to reach every Jew possible in order to help him accrue the maximum spiritual merit, as well. Even if we only succeed in persuading him or her to do one additional good deed or fulfill one more of God's commandments, this could well be the one, last act necessary to tip the scales of merit and usher in the final Redemption.23

Each man among them shall take for himself a lamb or kid: When the Torah will discuss the laws of sacrifices, we will see that in most cases, it will specify precisely what type of animal is to be used for which sacrifice. Even when it allows us to use several types of animals, each class of sacrifice is still predominantly associated with a particular type of animal. The Passover sacrifice, in contrast, is unique in that the Torah gives complete equivalence to both options, a sheep or a goat.

One of the differences between sheep and goats is that goats are usually black, while sheep are typically white. The dark goat therefore evokes the imagery of a life devoid of Divine light, i.e., the former life of a penitent sinner. And indeed, although the Torah allows sin-offerings of private individuals to be either sheep or goats,24 the communal sin-offerings offered on festivals were specifically goats.25

In contrast, the white, unassertive sheep evokes the imagery of a pure life unsullied by sin and undefiled by a skewed ego, i.e., the life of a righteous person. Such a person, rather than bringing a sin-offering, would be apt to bring an ascent-offering, expressing his or her desire to enhance the already-wholesome relationship with God he or she enjoys. And although the Torah allows ascent-offerings to be either sheep or goats, the communal ascent-offerings were specifically sheep.26

The fact that the Torah gives total equivalence to sheep and goats for the Passover offering reflects the fact that this offering was required of every Jew, regardless of his or her spiritual status. Whether we are righteous or on the way to becoming righteous, we all have to internalize the message of the Exodus from Egypt and be redeemed from the limitations that prevent us from progressing in our relationship with God.27

[8] With matzah: Note that the commandment to eat the Passover sacrifice with matzah was given before the people were hastily forced out of Egypt and their dough could not rise. In other words, there was an intrinsic reason to eat matzah quite apart from any incidental circumstances regarding the timing of the people's departure.

In general, bread is associated with knowledge and awareness. According to one opinion, the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge was wheat, and we are taught that "a baby cannot know how to call to its father and mother until it has tasted the taste of grain."32 Unleavened and leavened bread respectively signify immature and mature consciousness: childlike, innocent faith versus mature understanding.

Although God wants us to use our minds to understand as much as we can about Him, His providence, and His law, the foundation of our relationship with Him is simple, innocent faith. This faith is not blind; it is the result of the intrinsic connection and identity between God and the core-essence of our Jewish consciousness, the Divine soul. Whenever that connection is tapped, our basic faith in God is renewed.

The transcendent revelation the people were about to experience at midnight was going to bring them to an altogether new level of awareness, notwithstanding whatever connection they might have had with God before the Exodus. They were about to be virtually reborn to a new childhood, a new innocence, and the appropriate way of initially accepting this revelation was simple faith. There would be time later for analysis, inquiry, and understanding; right now too much intellect would just get in the way of the experience. This is why they had to eat matzah, the "bread of faith."

Moreover, leavened and unleavened bread respectively indicate ego and selflessness. The puffed up, risen bread evokes the image of a haughty, self-assertive individual, in contrast to the humble, lowly, flat, self-effacing matzah. Inasmuch as "there is no room for God in someone who is full of himself,"33 the prerequisite for any new Godly revelation is a self-effacing attitude, in which we declare ourselves ready to give up our precious preconceptions and entrenched world-view in favor of the new insight we hope to receive from God.34

This is another reason that the people had to eat matzah before the imminent midnight revelation.35

[9] Roasted over fire, together with its head, its legs, and its internal organs: Allegorically, the "head," "legs," and "internal organs" signify the three dimensions of Jewish religious observance. The "head" is the study of the Torah; the "legs"—limbs of action—are the active performance of the commandments; and the "internal organs" refer to prayer, the inner life of religious observance.

All three must be totally permeated by the "fire" of holiness, i.e., warmth and enthusiasm for the Creator.36

From another perspective, the "head," "legs," and "internal organs" signify the intellect, the desire to control (i.e., to keep others trampled underfoot), and the pursuit of livelihood, respectively.

Just as the Passover sacrifice was intended to slaughter the idolatry of Egypt, so is it intended to warn us not to make idols out of these three aspects of our lives:

• We must not idolize our intellect, making it the measure of all things, but rather submit ourselves to God's will even when it seems to contravene the dictates of our limited, human intellect.
• We must not make an idol out of our hunger for power, mercilessly aggrandizing ourselves at others' expense.
• We must not make an idol out of the pursuit of our livelihood, justifying all means to achieving wealth, comfort, and prestige.37

[11] You shall eat it in haste: Although the Jews of the Exodus had cleansed themselves of their actual involvement in Egyptian culture, they still harbored a certain degree of infatuation for it. They had not yet totally uprooted the old values and ways of the thinking; this would come only later when they received the Torah and began to structure their lives around its commandments. In the meantime, the glamour of Egyptian materialism still beckoned them.

God therefore had to hurry them out of Egypt while they were still sufficiently impressed by the events of the past year to encourage them to leave the only home they knew—both physically and culturally—and venture into the double unknown of the inhospitable desert and a lifestyle of holiness.

The same is true whenever we go out of a personal "Egypt," when we leave behind the comfort of our previous way of living and rise to a new level of Divine consciousness and its accompanying lifestyle. In order to stay on the new path, it is crucial to sustain the momentum and take care not to slide back into previous habits.

In the coming messianic redemption, however, this caution will be unnecessary. Since this redemption will be absolute and encompass all reality, the exilic mentality of materialism will no longer exist. There will be no possibility of backsliding, so haste will not be necessary. As God tells us,38 "You will not leave in haste, nor will you walk hurriedly."39

With your waist belted, your shoes on your feet, your staff in your hand: Allegorically, these three instructions for eating the Passover sacrifice are the three requirements for leaving any personal or collective "Egypt":

Your waist belted: Just as the hips and waist support the rest of the body, so is our faith in God the foundation and basis of Judaism. "Girding the waist" means strengthening our faith so it can permeate all aspects of our lives.

Your shoes on your feet: Shoes are made of animal leather, which must be tanned and softened in order to be formed into the proper shape. They thus signify how we are to refine our animal nature and make it receptive to Divine purposes. But even this is not enough; we must put these shoes "on our feet," which means that we must harness our animal nature for holy purposes, making it carry out our Divine soul's will, just as the feet carry out the brain's will to walk or run.

Your staff in your hand: Among other things, a staff serves to guide the animals accompanying a traveler, keeping them on the right path. Similarly, when our animal nature balks at the stringencies we may have adopted in our path toward holiness, we need to be able to prod it back in line.

Thus prepared, we can confidently leave our "Egypt."40

You are to perform the rites…in an energetic, hasty manner: The Passover sacrifice had to be prepared hastily because it expressed the manner in which the people were redeemed from Egypt. After generations of sinking progressively deeper into Egyptian degradation, the people completely turned their lives around and ascended to the pinnacle of holiness at Mount Sinai in the short span of forty-nine days. This "quantum leap" truly required a "jump" from one reality into another.41

[12] I will pass through the land of Egypt on that night: The Jewish people had sunk almost to the nadir of impurity in Egypt,42 becoming almost fully absorbed into the mentality of Egyptian culture. As was mentioned previously, the basis of Egyptian civilization was the belief in the immutable supremacy of the laws of nature.

Therefore, in order to extricate the Jewish people from Egyptian materialism, God could not "send an emissary," i.e., a finite, created being. The idolatry of nature could not be vanquished by a force that was itself part of creation and subject to its laws. He had to reveal the aspect of Himself that transcends creation and its natural laws.43

I and none other: Having already negated the option of sending any emissary whatsoever, this expression seems superfluous.

Whenever God reveals that aspect of Himself that transcends creation, He is also revealing that aspect of Himself that transcends the dichotomy between good and evil. After all, good and evil are arbitrary concepts that God invented and defined for use in the created world. Therefore, whenever this level of Divinity is operative within creation, evil can claim equal rights to legitimacy along with good. Precautions must therefore be taken to ensure that this does not happen.44

God therefore concluded His announcement of this imminent revelation with the promise that He will not allow forces not subordinate to His will to take advantage of it. In other words, the revelation of His transcendence will be accompanied by the revelation that despite the existential equivalency of good and evil at this level, He still prefers good to evil.45

[13] There were some Jews in Egyptian houses that night: Evidently, the well-known Jewish inferiority complex has existed for a long time. The Jews had witnessed amazing miracles over the past year, demonstrating how God singled them out from all nations and was going to elevate them to the pinnacle of human achievement by giving them His Torah. Egyptian civilization lay crumbling at their feet. Yet, on the night of their redemption, when they should have felt unabashedly proud to be part of the chosen people, they were instead busy trying to ingratiate themselves with the Egyptians, trying to convince both themselves and the Egyptians that the Jews are really not special after all—and all this in violation of God's specific instruction to stay at home that night!

Without denigrating any non-Jewish nation or individual, God forbid, it is imperative that we provide ourselves and those around us once and for all with the education necessary to understand and appreciate the differences between Jews and non-Jews. It is neither an embarrassment to ourselves nor any disparagement of non-Jews for a Jew to be proud to be Jewish and to affirm the uniqueness of the Jewish people.46

[14-15] Once you enter the Promised Land…for seven days you shall eat matzos: In Egypt, the people were required to eat matzah and refrain from leavened bread only for one night. (The fact that they also ate matzah on the subsequent days was only because they left Egypt hurriedly and did not have time to let the dough rise. Technically, however, there was no injunction to eat matzah or any prohibition against eating leavened bread after the night of the 15^th of Nisan.47) Only once they entered the Land of Israel were the Jews required both to eat matzah and refrain from leavened bread for a whole week.

The reason for this is because eating matzah on the night of the 15^th of Nisan elicits a new revelation of chochmah. Chochmah is the flash of insight that illumines the mind with a new, higher awareness of God that it has never before experienced. This immediately takes us out of "Egypt," the limitations of our previous world-view.

But this flash of insight remains abstract until it affects us profoundly enough to elicit an emotional response. Until our new experience of God translates into more profound love and of Him, awe of Him, and so on, it has not fulfilled its purpose. It is therefore necessary to apply this new insight to all the seven emotions.

At the time of the Exodus, this process was accomplished by the Clouds of Glory that surrounded the Jews on their trek from Egypt.48 There were seven of these clouds, correlating to the seven emotions. Since all seven clouds surrounded the people at all times, it was enough to eat matzah once, on the night of the 15^th of Nisan. The seven clouds then "distributed" the new chochmah to the seven emotions they embodied.

Usually, we are only able to work on refining one emotion at a time, because the process of refining an emotion entails working out the concrete details of how the new insight impacts on it. The presence of the surrounding clouds, however, indicated that the people's emotions during this period were more abstract (makif) than concrete (penimi). In a sense, the Israelites lived their religious life entirely in the abstract until they entered the Land of Israel, at which point they started applying the lessons learned in the desert to real life.49 When we are living in the abstract, it is much easier to do several things at once.

When the people were about to enter the Land of Israel, however, God removed the Clouds of Glory. At that point, we passed from the abstract religious life to the concrete. From then on, it became necessary to eat matzah for seven days so the insight of chochmah could be integrated into one emotion at a time, until it had reached all seven.50

[22-23] You shall then take a bundle of hyssop and dip it in the blood that is in the basin, and apply some of the blood in the basin to the lintel and the two doorposts…God will pass over the entrance and not allow the destructive plague to enter your houses: God is omniscient, so He certainly did not need any sign to show Him which house was Egyptian and which was Jewish. Rather, the application of blood was the act the people had to perform in order to enable them to receive the revelation of God's transcendence that was to occur at midnight.

The two doorposts and the lintel above them signified the three axes of our Divine calling: the study of the Torah (the lintel between the two posts), prayer (the left post) and holy deeds (the right post). Together, these three constitute a complete, balanced life that enables us to fulfill our Divine mission of making the world into God's home. The absence, overemphasis, or underemphasis of any of the three creates an imbalance that prevents God's presence from resting on our efforts. The door itself signified our readiness to obey God's will (kabalat ol), since this commitment is the entrance into our active partnership with God to rectify the world. The lowly hyssop used to apply the blood signified the self-abnegation (bitul) we must cultivate in order to be receptive to God's presence in our lives. The blood itself signified the vitality of our human/animal soul, which we applied with self-abnegation to the metaphysical construct of Torah, prayer, and good deeds, all performed out of recognition of our Divine duty.

The right doorpost alludes to chesed, the central sefirah of the right axis of sefirot; the left doorpost alludes to gevurah, the central sefirah of the left axis; the lintel alludes to tiferet, the central sefirah of the center axis; and the door itself alludes to malchut.

As stated above, God revealed His transcendence when He killed the firstborn of Egypt, and there is no human effort that can invoke such a revelation. Nonetheless, the people had to prepare a "vessel" to receive the revelation, and this was the purpose of applying the blood to the doorway in the way prescribed here.51

From another perspective, the application of the blood indeed served as a sign:

The purpose of the first nine plagues was to bring the Egyptians to a knowledge of God, as discussed above.52 The Jewish people already basically believed in God, so there was no concern that these plagues would strike them.

The purpose of the tenth plague, however, was to slay the firstborn, not to educate them. And since many Jews also deserved the death penalty for having served idols, there was an acute need to distinguish them from the Egyptians and, more to the point, counteract their culpability to the death penalty.

This was accomplished by the Passover sacrifice, since by slaughtering a lamb, the deity of Egypt, the Jews were putting their life in jeopardy. This willingness to suffer martyrdom for God expressed the people's essential, inviolate bond to Him, which transcends all logic.

The merit of this act neutralized any culpability they had for whatever they had done in the past.53

The first nine plagues were executed by the Name Elokim, which signifies God's attribute of severity and judgment. The respite that followed each plague was a manifestation of the Name Havayah, which signifies God's attribute of mercy. Inasmuch as Pharaoh and the Egyptians were already familiar with the Name Elokim and the purpose of the plagues was to make them also recognize the Name Havayah, it follows that the main part of each plague was not the devastation it caused but the respite that followed it.54

In contrast, in the case of the tenth plague, the devastation also issued from the Name Havayah. In other words, this plague was not an act of severity followed by an act of mercy; it was entirely an act of mercy, the final stroke in the process of disengaging the Jewish people from the Egyptians.

Therefore, there was no respite after this plague. All the firstborn were slain in one instant, and even after Pharaoh relented, they were not restored to life. It was not an act of the Name Elokim that could be counteracted by the Name Havayah; it itself was an act of the Name Havayah.

Inasmuch as the Jewish people are rooted in the Name Havayah, they had nothing to fear from the plagues issuing from the Name Elokim. But since the tenth plague issued from the Name Havayah, they were essentially vulnerable to this plague. The same revelation of the Name Havayah was occurring everywhere; the only factor that determined whom it would affect was the nature of the recipient, whether it was the good that had to be extracted from the evil or the evil from which the good had to be extracted. Therefore—in this plague only—there had to be a sign distinguishing the Jewish people from the Egyptians.55

[33] Some of the Jews had second thoughts about leaving: God had to force these reluctant Jews out of Egypt by having the Egyptians urge them on.

Nowadays, there are also those among us who prefer to remain in exile rather than face what they imagine to be the "oppression" of living in God's presence that will accompany the messianic redemption. Nonetheless, God will redeem these people, too, even against their will, for His mercy extends to all His creatures, and He always does what is best for them on all levels, even if they don't presently realize or appreciate it.56

[36] They thus drained Egypt: As mentioned previously,57 the "great wealth" the Jews took with them when they left Egypt was the power of holiness (Divine "sparks") that the Egyptians had misused and thereby had become embedded within depraved Egyptian civilization. The only Divine power that now remained in Egypt was the minimal, low-grade energy that was required to keep it in existence. This energy was the spiritual correlate to the minimal material means the Jews left the Egyptians with which to survive. Everything beyond this, physically and spiritually, left with the Jews.58

This is why the Exodus from Egypt was final; no Jew remained in Egypt, and the Torah in fact later prohibits the Jewish people from ever again settling in Egypt.59 Once the land was essentially emptied of all the sparks of holiness that had been embedded there, there was no longer any reason for Jewish people to live there. This was not true of the other historic redemptions. When we were liberated from these other exiles, we did not empty these lands of Divine sparks, and therefore we often had to return to them sooner or later to continue the task.60

The messianic redemption, however, will be similar to the redemption from Egypt: all the sparks of holiness will be finally and absolutely liberated from their present exile, and there will be no need to enter into any further exile to redeem them.61

In light of this difference, no one has the right to sequester himself in the holy pursuits of Torah study and prayer and forego his obligation to refine the world. Every spark of Divinity is unique and each one needs to be redeemed by utilizing the gifts of this world for holy purposes.62

[36] The women brought along timbrels: As is often the case, the women demonstrated more faith and trust in God than did the men. The women of our generation, too, should not hesitate to demonstrate their certainty that the redemption is imminent. To be sure, until the moment of redemption arrives, we should all feel the bitterness of the exile and pray fervently to God that He bring it to its end. But at the same time, our unshakable confidence that God will fulfill His promise of redemption should fill us with overflowing joy. The women, on the strength of their innately more deep-seated faith, should already begin celebrating the Redemption—even with music and dancing—and this should inspire the men to follow suit.63

[38] A mixed multitude went up with them: These non-Jews were initially enthused about joining the ranks of God's chosen people, anxiously looking forward to doing God's will. Yet, as we will see, they eventually slid back to their old ways of thinking, causing untold suffering as the history of the Jewish people unfolded.

The reason why they fell was because they were not yet spiritually mature enough to accompany the Jewish people on their journey into the Torah's lifestyle. Therefore, accepting them into their ranks was a pedagogic error on Moses' part.

When a child is young, its parents must not grant its every wish; if the parents do so, the child will grow into an ingrate and eventually rebel against the parents. Rather, the parents should deny the child some of the things it wants, thereby teaching the child not to take everything for granted and to appreciate the parents. Once the child is older and has learned this concept, the parents no longer need to deny it what it asks for, since it has learned to make only reasonable and positive requests.

God knew that accepting the mixed multitude at this point would be detrimental; they were not yet mature enough to appreciate the life of holiness and would eventually disdain it. Had they been initially rejected, they would have matured from the experience and would have been ready later to join the ranks of the Jewish people.

The Israelites, however, were already more spiritually mature at this point, and therefore the great attention God lavished upon them did not corrupt them, but by and large made them more humble and dedicated to God and His will.64

[39] Since it had not leavened: Even though the journey from Raamses to Sukot took a miraculously short time, when we consider the time it took for them to set up camp, kindle fires, and start baking the dough, there was more than enough time for the dough to start to rise. Nevertheless, it did not rise.

This was because the spiritual dimension of what was happening influenced the physical reality. Spiritually, the Jews "had been driven out of Egypt"—they were uplifted to such spiritual heights that they totally transcended all semblance of ego and their consciousness was filled with God's absolute, all-encompassing reality. In this context, the dough could not rise, for leavening reflects the haughtiness of ego. Leavening causes the dough to rise and puff up into an aggrandized version of itself, just as the ego aggrandizes our sense of self far beyond what is real. This matzah did not rise even though there was no specific command to prevent it from rising—or even to eat matzah altogether.

The cause of this spiritual ascent was the revelation of God's infinite transcendence that occurred at midnight of the 15^th of Nisan. The matzah the people ate on the morning of the 15^th of Nisan was part of this post-revelation reality, so it simply could not rise, and there was no need to take any precautions to prevent if from rising. In contrast, the matzah that the people were commanded to eat in the future when they would each year celebrate the festival of Passover had to be protected from leavening.70

The matzah we eat each year at the Seder, however, must be eaten before midnight, recalling the matzos we ate on the night of the Exodus before midnight. Inasmuch as this matzah was part of the pre-midnight reality, it must be carefully prevented from rising.71

[41] All the hosts of God left the land of Egypt: A "host" is an army, a body of people who are ready to sacrifice their lives for the safety and integrity of the country they defend. The Jews earned this title by staunchly defending their identity and resisting the temptation to totally assimilate into Egyptian culture during their 210 years of exile, as we have seen.72