The greatness of Shabbos HaGadol - Rabbi Asher Perkash

00:02 These days, on 13 Nissan, we mark the yahrzeit of the Tzemach Tzedek, which is also when the Rebbe Maharash’s leadership began. It is told that some time before his passing, the Tzemach Tzedek called the Rebbe Maharash to him, opened a Midrash before him, and showed him what it said: “Although Yaakov died, his G-d lives on. Although Yosef died, his G-d lives on.” The Rebbe Maharash acted as though he did not understand, smiled, and returned to his room, where he was with [unclear]. He understood that this was a hint that the Tzemach Tzedek’s passing was near. The Tzemach Tzedek passed away on 13 Nissan, two days before Pesach. The Rebbe Maharash passed away on 13 Tishrei, likewise two days before Sukkos. Chassidim would say of this that with the Tzemach Tzedek and the Rebbe Maharash, the words “One to one they joined, and none could separate them” were fulfilled. “One to one”: the numerical value of “one” is thirteen. That is 13 Nissan, the yahrzeit of the Tzemach Tzedek, and 13 Tishrei, the yahrzeit of the Rebbe Maharash. “One to one they joined.” Yes, both had this element of “one.” And indeed, we see this “one to one they joined” in them: the Rebbe Maharash’s bond with the Tzemach Tzedek was such that even after the passing

01:56 of the Tzemach Tzedek, although several of his sons also served as Rebbes, the one who remained in Lubavitch was the Rebbe Maharash. Though he was the youngest son, he was the one who continued the Tzemach Tzedek’s path and succeeded him. And afterward, following his passing, the resting place of the Rebbe Maharash, his gravesite, is beside the Tzemach Tzedek’s gravesite—“one to one.” The Rebbe once spoke about this, and I drew on that sicha of the Rebbe: the fact that for the Tzemach Tzedek it was 13 Nissan, while for the Rebbe Maharash it was 13 Tishrei, relates to the fact that the Tzemach Tzedek’s avodah was the avodah of tzaddikim, whereas the Rebbe Maharash’s was associated with the avodah of baalei teshuvah. In other words, in the month of Nissan the Jewish people are in the category of tzaddikim. Nissan is, after all, a time of being “like a newborn child.” The Jewish people were a new nation, just born, and indeed were [unclear], in the category of tzaddikim. That is the avodah of Nissan, the avodah of tzaddikim. By contrast, Tishrei is a time of teshuvah. Quite simply, it is “a time of teshuvah for all,” as the Rambam writes; Tishrei is the time to do teshuvah, and in general it is a time of teshuvah. And for the Rebbe Maharash, it was 13 Tishrei. This is how we see the difference between the Tzemach Tzedek and the Rebbe Maharash: with the Tzemach Tzedek, the main emphasis was

03:37 the path of the avodah of tzaddikim—that is, orderly avodah. His principal strength was in the revealed dimension of Torah and in the inner dimension of Torah. He spoke and wrote, corresponded with the great Torah scholars, rabbis, and tzaddikim of his generation, and wrote many responsa on the revealed dimension of Torah, on halachah, and so on. That was the pattern of his avodah—the avodah of tzaddikim. With the Rebbe Maharash, we find many stories centered on the avodah of baalei teshuvah, including the well-known saying, repeated at every turn, that the Rebbe Maharash would say: The world says that if you cannot go from below, you go over the top; but I say, said the Rebbe Maharash, that from the outset, you should go over the top. The meaning of “lechatchilah ariber” in avodah is to serve through a leap, through a jump, and this is particularly characteristic of the avodah of teshuvah. Regarding the gravesites of the Tzemach Tzedek and the Rebbe Maharash, which stand side by side, there is a remarkable story about a chossid, Reb Shmuel Lew, a shliach of the Rebbe and one of the prominent rabbis in London, England. Reb Shmuel Lew relates that years ago, when Russia was still behind the Iron Curtain—that is, about forty years ago—reaching a gravesite in Russia involved real danger and many hardships. It was an undertaking in itself.

05:13 Only a few individuals managed to get there. From time to time, the Rebbe would send shluchim to help the Jews there, who had to conceal every aspect of Jewish life, with actual self-sacrifice. He traveled to Russia at the time and, for the matters he was attending to there, looked for ways and made arrangements so they could travel to Lubavitch. Of course, traveling to Lubavitch in those days was an undertaking in its own right, a whole journey. Traveling from Moscow to Lubavitch involved not only the trip itself but all the trouble of obtaining permits—special permits were required—and various other matters. At any rate, after many hardships and a long journey, they reached Lubavitch. While there, they went to the holy Ohel, to the gravesites of our Rebbeim. The Tzemach Tzedek and the Rebbe Maharash are buried there in Lubavitch. They noticed something interesting—something you can still see today, incidentally, though today structures have been built around it and it is obscured, whereas back then it was clearly visible. The Tzemach Tzedek’s gravestone was intact, while a large part of the stone of the Rebbe Maharash’s gravestone was missing; a large piece was missing from

06:50 it, from the gravestone. They were very surprised and wanted to understand what had happened. They related that while they were there, they met a Jew—not a Jew, sorry, actually a non-Jew—an elderly man who still remembered what Lubavitch had been like in those years, when the Rebbeim were there and the Rebbe Rashab was there. Yes, an elderly man who had lived and continued to live in the little village, the little town of Lubavitch, and remembered how things had been. He remembered details and said, “Here was the shul, here was the yeshivah,” and recalled all sorts of things from that period, from those days. As they spoke with him, they asked, “What happened? Why is the Tzemach Tzedek’s gravestone intact, while a large piece of the Rebbe Maharash’s gravestone is missing and it is broken?” The man told them that the Rebbe Maharash’s gravestone was made of a stone that produces fire, a firestone that gives off sparks. I think it is called flint. It is a stone that produces a spark when struck and can be used to light a fire. The stone of the Tzemach Tzedek’s gravestone was not like that, but the Rebbe Maharash’s gravestone was made of that kind of stone,

08:23 that kind of stone. So often in winter, when the non-Jews in the village needed to light a fire and did not have the stones or other means used for lighting fires in those days, they would go up there, strike the gravestone, break off a piece of stone, and use it to make a spark and light a fire. Well, of course, that is not at all respectful; that goes without saying. But that was the situation in Russia in those days. Lubavitch was then completely cut off from Jews and Jewish life, and that was the situation there. Afterward, though, chassidim discussed it among themselves. Yes, what is the meaning of this? After all, as the Baal Shem Tov taught us, we must take a lesson from everything in our service of Hashem. They thought about it and discussed it, and saw something remarkable here: even the non-Jew understands that when you need warmth, light, and fire, where do you find them? With the Rebbe, there, with the holy Rebbe of Lubavitch. Yes. And that was the lesson and the path in serving Hashem. When we speak here of the non-Jew who is searching, we do not mean only a non-Jew walking down the street; there is also “the non-Jew within you.”

09:56 As the expression appears in several places in Chassidus: even “the non-Jew within you”—the non-Jew within you—meaning a person’s own yetzer hara, his animal soul. And that is the point: it is not only the G-dly soul that needs to reach the warmth, holiness, and fire of the teachings of Chassidus. Even the non-Jew, even the animal soul, also needs to be warmed and needs to receive light. Where do you find that? With the Rebbe, in Chassidus. And through Divine providence, this point is connected to Shabbos Hagadol. When we consider Shabbos Hagadol this Shabbos, we find something connected to what we are discussing now. What is Shabbos Hagadol? It is interesting: we speak about Shabbos Hagadol, but there are two familiar questions everyone asks. First, what does this mean? Why was this Shabbos given the name Shabbos Hagadol? What happened on this Shabbos that was so great, greater than on all the other Shabbosos of the year, that it is called Shabbos Hagadol? What is the reason for the name? And then there is the second question: we are speaking about miracles, about things that happened on that Shabbos. Why was their commemoration established for Shabbos? Whenever a miracle happens, it has a date, and among Jews the usual practice is to establish

11:24 its date to a day of the month. Pesach, for example, when the miracles took place, is the day they left Egypt. Why, then, does the miracle of Shabbos Hagadol remain tied to Shabbos? There is discussion of this in the Shulchan Aruch, and there are explanations on a straightforward level, [unclear]. But we need to understand the deeper meaning: Why is this Shabbos called Shabbos Hagadol? And why do we commemorate it every year specifically on Shabbos, on that same Shabbos? There are a number of explanations, and one finds something worth noting. When you look at the Tur, you see something interesting. The Tur says that the main reason it is called Shabbos Hagadol is that, the first time, it fell on the tenth of the month. That was the day Hakadosh Boruch Hu said, “Draw out and take for yourselves, each man, a lamb for his household.” Each person was to take a lamb into his home that day in Nissan—and the lamb was the object of Egyptian worship. To the Egyptians, it was utterly unthinkable that we would take their object of worship into our homes, slaughter it, and eat it. When the Egyptians asked about it, the Jews answered that Hakadosh Boruch Hu had commanded them to fulfill the mitzvah of slaughtering the Pesach offering and eating it, and that we

12:51 were leaving Egypt. Yes, this was a great miracle. The point is that the Egyptians wanted to take revenge on them but could not. “They could do nothing to them,” in the words of the Tur. They could do nothing. The Jews said they were taking the lambs for the mitzvah of Pesach, and the Egyptians could do nothing. There were further miracles in the details of what happened, as brought in Sefer HaOrah. Machzor Vitry cites further miracles in Rashi’s name, and there are other versions: the Egyptians wanted to act but could not. There are a number of versions along these lines, but that is the point. In the Alter Rebbe’s Shulchan Aruch, section 430—a short section dealing with the laws of Shabbos Hagadol—the Alter Rebbe says that we mark Shabbos Hagadol in memory of a great miracle that happened then. What was the great miracle? The Alter Rebbe gives an entirely different reason, not the one stated in the Tur. He takes this reason from Tosafos in Tractate Shabbos, page 87. What does he say? The Midrash says that when the Jews fulfilled Hashem’s command to bring a lamb for Pesach—on the tenth of the month they brought a lamb and set it aside for the Pesach offering, and Hakadosh Boruch Hu had commanded that it remain there for four days—the Egyptians wanted to know what it meant. The Jews told them

14:17 that they were about to leave Egypt and that there would be a plague of the firstborn. The Egyptian firstborn were terribly alarmed and overcome with fear. They ran to Pharaoh and the other Egyptians, demanding that they send the Jews out of Egypt. When Pharaoh refused, they started a war. A great war broke out among the Egyptians, and blood was shed; they killed one another. Yes, this was a great miracle, as the verse says in the chapter of “Give thanks to Hashem, for He is good, for His kindness is everlasting,” in Hallel Hagadol: “Who struck Egypt through its firstborn.” In other words, the Egyptians fought among themselves, against their own firstborn. The Egyptian firstborn themselves fought against them. So, to honor this miracle and commemorate it for generations, they called that Shabbos Shabbos Hagadol, in memory of the great miracle that took place then. That is what the Alter Rebbe says. And it is remarkable. Why is that? Why did the Alter Rebbe choose this particular reason? He does not mention the Tur’s reason at all, only the second reason, brought in Tosafos. Yet when you think about it, the first reason would seem to be the main one, because it concerns the Jews. The Jews fulfilled the Creator’s command. Hakadosh Boruch Hu commanded them to bring a Pesach offering. And the Egyptians, after all, held it in reverence,

15:46 they were [unclear], and they could have acted and taken revenge, yet they could do nothing. That is a tremendous miracle, and he does not mention it at all. The second miracle was one that had no connection to the Jews. The Jews may not even have known about it at the time. It happened among the non-Jews themselves. They fought among themselves and killed one another. It did not involve the Jews at all—not before, not while it was happening, and not afterward. Nor did the Jews leave Egypt then. It is not self-evident that it helped, since the Jews remained in Egypt even after this blow, until the plague of the firstborn. Yet the Alter Rebbe does not give the first reason at all, only the second. Seemingly, the second reason has no connection to the Jews, and that is precisely the one he gives. And even if we say that the second miracle has an even greater force, he could still have given the first reason too; but he does not mention it at all. How do we explain this? I will now tell you something I once heard from the Rebbe. Over a number of years, on Shabbos Hagadol, I heard him explain this subject. Each year there was a different explanation, all sorts of wonderful explanations of Shabbos Hagadol. I heard a great deal about this on Shabbos Hagadol,

17:09 [unclear]. But the Rebbe gave this explanation—a very pleasing explanation—and explained how it is expressed in serving Hashem. Here it is: When you consider it, you see the difference between the two miracles. The first miracle happened to the Jews. As we said, there was a command from Above to bring a Pesach offering. And what was the miracle? That the world—Egypt, the non-Jews—could not prevent the Jews from doing the will of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. As we quoted earlier from the Tur: “They could do nothing to them.” How are we to understand that? Since it was Hashem’s command, since Hakadosh Boruch Hu had commanded them to bring a Pesach offering, nothing could possibly stand against His command. When Hakadosh Boruch Hu says that something is to happen, it must happen. And indeed, it did. The world cannot interfere; the world cannot oppose a Jew fulfilling the Divine will. What is the explanation? Simply put, Hakadosh Boruch Hu—“In the beginning, G-d created the heavens and the earth”—is the Creator and ruler of the world. He created the world and also created the nations, including Egypt and the Egyptians. He is the Creator of the world. And for whom did He create it? Rashi says: “Bereishis—for the sake of”

18:37 for the sake of the Torah and for the sake of the Jewish people. The whole purpose of creating the world is for there to be a Jew who can fulfill Torah and mitzvos. So when Hakadosh Boruch Hu comes and says that the time has arrived for “Draw out and take for yourselves”—draw your hands away from idol worship and take sheep for a mitzvah—yes, Jews, you must fulfill mitzvos, because the Jewish people are equal in weight to the entire world. The world complies with the Jews and helps the Jews, and we see that it cannot prevent a Jew from fulfilling Torah and mitzvos. That is the miracle he cites in the Torah. But this is not a great miracle. It is certainly a miracle, something significant, something tremendous, but you cannot call it a great miracle. Why? Because it is built into the nature of creation. As Rashi says on “Bereishis bara Elokim”—Bereishis means for the sake of the Torah and for the sake of the Jewish people. In other words, from the outset the world was created so that a Jew could fulfill Torah and mitzvos. So when a Jew stands firm and says that he must fulfill the Creator’s command—Hakadosh Boruch Hu commanded me, “Draw out and take sheep for yourselves”—why should I care whether the Egyptians want it or not, whether they like it or not? The Egyptians have nothing to do with me. I will fulfill the Creator’s will. And since the world was created for the sake of the Torah and for the sake of the Jewish people, they can do nothing; the world cannot prevent Jews from fulfilling Torah and mitzvos. So

20:05 that is not yet a reason to make a Yom Tov out of it. Here is where the second point comes in. The second was something beyond the actual fulfillment of the Creator’s command. On the contrary, it went further. The Jews prepared for Pesach and fulfilled the mitzvah with every possible enhancement, and no one could stop them. But the fact that the Egyptians turned against their own people, against Pharaoh, and that this even led to a war among themselves—“Who struck Egypt through its firstborn”—is not connected to “for the sake of the Torah and for the sake of the Jewish people.” This has to do with leaving Egypt. It is a miracle greater than creation. It is not creation; it is greater than creation. It breaks through the bounds of the world, greater than the world, above the world. [unclear] What was the purpose of this miracle? Its purpose was that not only could the world not prevent the Jews from fulfilling Torah and mitzvos, but more than that: the world itself fought within itself; the world wanted to help, and helped, so that the Jews would leave Egypt. The point is that the Egyptians themselves, among themselves, fought one another; the Egyptians themselves wanted to break everything down and turn it upside down so the Jews could leave Egypt. And this is the idea of [unclear]: that the darkness itself, the darkness itself—“the night will shine like the day”—as it says in “Then they will say among the nations,” [unclear], “the night will shine like the day”: the night itself will be illuminated. The darkness itself will shine; the darkness itself will be [unclear]. And that is “Who struck Egypt through its firstborn.” Nature itself—not only does nature not stop it, but nature itself assists, and nature itself fights against

22:13 Nature, in the full force of the kelipah, so as to break the kelipah itself, to [unclear] the darkness, to [unclear] this world, so that Jews could leave Egypt. That is the point, and it is a great miracle. That is what makes it so great: it was above the world. In this light, we can understand the name “Shabbos Hagadol.” And why specifically Shabbos? He says [unclear]. Regarding Shabbos, the Ten Commandments appear twice: in Parshas Yisro and in Parshas Va’eschanan. As we know, what does it say in Parshas Yisro about Shabbos? “Remember the Shabbos day to sanctify it. Six days you shall work and do all your labor.” What is the reason? What is the explanation? What is Shabbos about? “For in six days Hashem made the heavens and the earth, and on the seventh day He rested and was refreshed.” That is what it says in the Ten Commandments in Parshas Yisro. The reason there is Shabbos is that Hakadosh Boruch Hu created the world in six days, and on the seventh day He rested and was refreshed. It commemorates the creation of the world. And as Sefer Hachinuch says, the purpose of Shabbos is for Jews to recognize and strengthen within themselves their belief that the world was created. In the second account of the Ten Commandments, in Parshas Va’eschanan, it says, “Guard the Shabbos day to sanctify it,” and there it says, “You shall remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt, and Hashem your G-d brought you out.” What is the reason for Shabbos? Because the Jews were slaves in Egypt and Hakadosh Boruch Hu brought them out of Egypt. He therefore commanded them to observe Shabbos so they would remember the Exodus from Egypt. That is why we say in Kiddush, “in remembrance of the Exodus from Egypt,” because that is what it commemorates [unclear]. So Shabbos has two aspects. This is what Shabbos is about: one aspect is connected to creation—“In six days Hashem made [the world], and on the seventh day He rested and was refreshed.” On Shabbos, a Jew remembers the Exodus from

24:29 Egypt. And what follows from this is that Hakadosh Boruch Hu created the world in six days; something new came into being. The world was created, Hakadosh Boruch Hu continually renews it, and “on the seventh day He rested and was refreshed.” When a Jew enters into this idea, he understands that all of creation is “for the sake of the Torah, for the sake of the Jewish people.” That is the first aspect of Shabbos, the Shabbos connected to the creation of the world. Then there is the second aspect of Shabbos, the meaning of Shabbos that was revealed specifically at the giving of the Torah. A Jew observes Shabbos not only to commemorate the creation of the world, but also to commemorate the Exodus from Egypt. In other words, Shabbos has a great dimension: it not only awakens and strengthens faith in the creation of the world and its Creator, but also awakens and deepens within a Jew the idea of the Exodus from Egypt—that a Jew can leave behind all constraints and limitations and receive the Torah. That is the great dimension of Shabbos. The first aspect of Shabbos, stemming from the creation of the world, had always existed. When Shabbos Hagadol arrived and Hakadosh Boruch Hu said, “Draw forth and take for yourselves,” the Jews received the command concerning the Pesach offering, and they also saw the Egyptian firstborn fighting against Egypt. Egypt itself cried out that the Jews must leave Egypt. This gave Shabbos the dimension of Shabbos Hagadol, and that is why it is called Shabbos Hagadol. That is why we say it happened specifically on Shabbos and not on another day: this great dimension entered into Shabbos. Shabbos is not only the day that points to the creation of the world, but also the day that points to the Exodus from Egypt. Shabbos does not merely awaken the recognition that the natural order of creation cannot prevent a Jew from fulfilling Torah and mitzvos. More than that: the non-Jew himself, nature itself, helps and fights against the nations to break down everything that might keep a Jew from fulfilling Torah and mitzvos and serving the Creator

26:34 as he should. That is the greatness of Shabbos Hagadol. And this is the point he makes and emphasizes: this is why we say, “I am Hashem your G-d, Who brought you out of the land of Egypt.” There is a well-known question raised by the early commentators: Why do we say, “I am Hashem your G-d, Who brought you out of the land of Egypt”? What about the creation of the world? The creation of the world is universal—the entire world was created from nothing by the Creator. And it is an even greater wonder: creation from nothing, the great wonder the Rebbe describes in Tanya. Yet here, when we come to the giving of the Torah, it is specifically the Exodus from Egypt that is mentioned. There are many explanations for this. One explanation is that when we speak of the Creator of heaven and earth, we are speaking of the creation of nature. Hakadosh Boruch Hu created the world from nothing, and creation is connected to the world’s natural order. That order was created by the Creator through the Divine Name Elokim—“Elokim” has the same numerical value as “hateva,” nature—through the concealment that hides G-dliness so that the world can exist as a distinct reality. The Exodus from Egypt, by contrast, is “You shall know that I am Hashem”—the four-letter Name of Hashem. This is a miracle above nature. Egypt represents constraints and limitations, the constraints and limitations of nature, and the Exodus from Egypt is the breaking of all of nature’s limitations. That was what came into being with the Exodus from Egypt. Therefore, when a Jew comes to receive the Torah, the Torah does not teach him only about nature; it teaches him how to leave nature’s limitations behind. The Exodus from Egypt is the way out of every constraint and limitation. And it is not merely that the world does not oppose him. On the contrary, the world itself helps; the world itself is transformed, and the darkness itself turns to light.

28:27 And this is a Yom Tov. That is the greatness of Shabbos Hagadol. [unclear]. And the Rebbe says something further, something deeper, which is how I understand it when looking in the Shulchan Aruch: the Alter Rebbe writes in section 430 that the custom in these countries is not to say “Barchi Nafshi,” but rather “Avadim Hayinu.” After Minchah on Shabbos Hagadol, we do not say “Barchi Nafshi.” Now, why do we say “Barchi Nafshi” on Shabbos after Minchah? In these countries, it is not said, and instead we say “Avadim Hayinu.” This alludes to what we have been discussing. “Barchi Nafshi” is Psalm 104 in Tehillim, which speaks of the greatness of the Creator in the affairs of creation, in the workings of nature: “Bless Hashem, O my soul. Hashem my G-d, You are exceedingly great; You are clothed in splendor and majesty. You wrap Yourself in light as with a garment; You stretch out the heavens like a curtain; You set the beams of Your upper chambers in the waters”—the creation of the world, the creation of nature. And all the things the Rebbe presents about Divine Providence in everything—inanimate matter, plants, animals and human beings. It is a wondrous psalm that explains the Creator’s greatness, His awesomeness and His wonders, but it is all connected to nature. The Alter Rebbe comes and says: Shabbos Hagadol tells us not to say “Barchi Nafshi.” Shabbos Hagadol places us in a realm above nature. So we do not say “Barchi Nafshi”; we say “Avadim Hayinu”—“We were slaves”—the true miracles of the Exodus from Egypt, up to the greatest miracle of all, which is

29:55 “Who struck Egypt through its firstborn.” Nature itself not only does not interfere; it helps, assists and acts purposefully so that a Jew can carry out the Divine will, so that a Jew can leave behind constraints and limitations. From this we understand the most wonderful lesson we learn for our time, as we prepare for the time of the Exodus from Egypt, which is about serving Hashem. A Jew must know, when Pesach arrives, the season of our freedom, that when it comes to a Jew fulfilling a mitzvah and carrying out the Divine will, it is not merely that the world cannot interfere with him—what would be new about that? That is obvious. The world cannot prevent a Jew from doing what Hakadosh Boruch Hu wants. So it makes no sense to say that there is an obstacle here. A Jew can fulfill Torah and mitzvos with the greatest breadth, the greatest momentum and the greatest strength. But it goes even further: “Who struck Egypt through its firstborn”—nature itself turns to the benefit of the Jewish people and does everything to enable a Jew to act. We even speak about the non-Jew, about “Who struck Egypt through its firstborn,” where the non-Jew himself... yes, you understand. And the non-Jew himself—even “the non-Jew within you” and “the non-Jew at your border,” each one of them—the animal soul not only does not interfere, but is itself transformed: “With all your heart—with both your inclinations.” It itself truly...

31:16 helps, and “Draw me after You; let us run,” as explained in the maamarim of Chassidus for Pesach. At Pesach, the beginning is indeed on the part of the G-dly soul: “for the people fled”—the G-dly soul flees from its constraints and limitations. But afterward it says, “let us run,” in the plural: the animal soul goes along too. We take it with us, and it itself is transformed to serve Hakadosh Boruch Hu, until we reach “with all your heart”—with both your inclinations. An interesting point: the Alter Rebbe says something else about Shabbos Hagadol in the Shulchan Aruch, in section 429. Regarding the Shabbos Hagadol sermon, he writes that a regulation was established to teach the laws of the festival publicly. And in subsection 2 of section 429, he concludes: “The main thing is to expound and teach them the ways of Hashem, and to teach them what they must do.” In other words, the main focus of all the Shabbos Hagadol sermons should be “to expound and teach them the ways of Hashem”—to teach Jews the ways of Hashem—and “to teach them what they must do.” And he concludes: “Not as is customary now.” What does that mean in plain terms? “Not as is customary now”: there are speakers who discuss intricate analyses of the Rambam and of the laws, delivering grand sermons with very deep discussions of Pesach matters, but the main thing is missing—“to teach them the ways of Hashem” and “what they must do.” Those are the Alter Rebbe’s words. And there are two points here that I want

32:55 to make briefly. It is told in the name of Rabbi Tzvi Wolk, of blessed memory, that he explained the words “not as is customary now.” That phrase does not appear in the Magen Avraham. The Alter Rebbe writes, “Not as is customary now.” What does he mean by this? Rabbi Tzvi Wolk offered an unusual interpretation. It is not the straightforward meaning we mentioned—that one should not follow the current custom of delivering sermons full of intricate arguments, but should instead speak about “what they must do.” He explained that “not as is customary now” is something that should itself be said in the sermon. When speaking before the community, when telling Jews that Pesach is approaching, that the Yom Tov of Pesach is approaching, one must teach them the ways of Hashem and “teach them what they must do,” and also tell them: “Not as is customary now”—do not go on living as you have until now. We must leave Egypt; we must leave our constraints and limitations. A Jew must know: “Not as is customary now.” The way things have been until now cannot continue. A new way of life must begin, one of leaving Egypt, of leaving our constraints and limitations. And there is another point the Rebbe explained in the Alter Rebbe’s wording, which seems, at first glance, repetitive: “to teach them the ways of Hashem, and to teach them what they must do.” This wording was used in connection with Avraham, but

34:22 at first glance, it is repetitive. What are these two things, “to teach them the ways of Hashem” and “to teach them what they must do”? The Rebbe explains that they refer to two things. “What they must do” means just that: a Jew needs to know the practical halachos, because action is the main thing. One must study the Shulchan Aruch and learn and know the laws of Pesach and chametz, and all the laws of Pesach in every detail. That is “what they must do,” and that is what rabbis and speakers must teach Jews. But what are “the ways of Hashem”? “Ways” refers not only to the action itself, but to the path by which we reach it. A road is, quite literally, a route connecting one place to another. There is the action—a Jew performs a mitzvah here in this world—and the purpose of that action is to connect with Hakadosh Boruch Hu, the One Who commanded us to perform the mitzvos. For that, we need the connection, the ways of Hashem. What is the road that connects the action with Hakadosh Boruch Hu, with the One Who commands? That is what the ways of Hashem are needed for. Tanya speaks about love and fear of Hashem, the intentions within a mitzvah. As the Alter Rebbe writes in Tanya, when a Jew performs a mitzvah without vitality, without intention, without love

35:50 and fear of Hashem, it is like a bird without wings: “Without fear and love, it cannot soar aloft.” A Jew studies Torah without love and fear of Hashem, or performs a mitzvah without love and fear of Hashem—the deed remains down here; it does not rise or ascend. So the ways of Hashem are love and fear of Hashem. Therefore, when Shabbos Hagadol arrives, the Shabbos before Pesach, when Hashem’s greatness is revealed in the miracles and wonders of the Exodus from Egypt, in “Who struck Egypt through its firstborn,” we must teach Jews—“instruct them”—that they need the ways of Hashem. A Jew needs love and fear of Hashem, which are the ways of Hashem and which bring vitality into the mitzvos. And together with that comes “what they must do”: knowing that action is the main thing, that these ideas must come down into actual practice—“not study but action is the main thing.” And we must not remain in the state we have been in until now. When a Jew leaves his personal constraints and limitations every day, Hakadosh Boruch Hu will bring all of us out of the constraints and limitations of exile, and we will go immediately, very soon, to the true and complete Geulah. As the Gemara says in tractate Rosh Hashanah, the halachah follows Rabbi Yehoshua: “In Nissan they were redeemed; in Nissan they are destined to be redeemed.” And the Midrash in Parshas Emor likewise concludes in accordance with Rabbi Yehoshua, that “in Nissan they are destined to be redeemed.” May we indeed merit

37:14 that it happen in the month of Nissan. Amen, may it be His will.