The Seventh Day of Pesach,1 Day 6 of the Omer

בְּעֵת קְרִיאַת הַשִׁירָה - עוֹמְדִים.

It is customary to stand while the Song [of the Sea]2 is being read [in the synagogue].

אִין לְיוּבּאַוִויטְשׁ פְלעֶגט מעֶן זַיין אוֹיף שְׁבִיעִי שֶׁל פֶּסַח — אוֹיךְ שָׁבוּעוֹת אוּן הוֹשַעֲנָא רַבָּה. אַז אִיךְ בִּין אַלְט געֶוועֶן נַיין יאָהר האָבּ אִיךְ זִיךְ שׁוֹין נִיט געֶלֵייגט שְׁלאָפעֶן שְׁבִיעִי שֶׁל פֶּסַח — מְ'דאַרף לעֶרנעֶן אַ גאַנצעֶ נאַכט.

It was customary in Lubavitch to remain awake on the night of the Seventh Day of Pesach, and on the nights of Shavuos and Hoshana Rabbah. From when I turned nine, I did not go to sleep on the night of the Seventh Day of Pesach.

We should study Torah the entire night.3

Delving Deeply

The Sea of Reeds (Yam Suf, popularly rendered as the Red Sea) split at dawn on the Seventh Day of Pesach, a week after the Exodus. In commemoration, we remain awake the entire night, as if anticipating that moment. Now, there is a spiritual counterpart to the sea and its splitting. Since the waters of the sea cover up and conceal the plants and creatures within it, the sea serves as a metaphor for the G‑dliness invested in the natural order and covered up by it. Dry land, by contrast, serves as a metaphor for the levels of existence that are readily perceivable. On the Seventh Day of Pesach, the sea split. The Divine energies that are usually hidden became visibly manifest. Water turned into dry land!

This calls forth a parallel in our Divine service: the need to reveal the G‑dly potential hidden within our souls.4