I hesitated at first to retell a story that is probably well known, but then I saw that Rav Moshe Shternbuch (Teshuvos Vehanhagos, Pesach, p. 1,057) writes that his father also used to retell this story every Pesach.
It was the summer of 5683 (1923), just after the vicious Kishinev pogroms. The Chofetz Chaim needed the services of a certain dentist, who was extremely traumatized by the attacks and expressed his pain to the Chofetz Chaim.
“Rebbe,” he nearly cried, “believe me, I am beginning to have doubts about the existence of a Creator.”
It should be noted that, similar to the recent Hamas atrocities, many people were shaken to the core by the barbaric anti-Semitism, and it seems that little has changed. Rav Yosef Eliyahu Henkin used to recall that seventy years after those massacres, when he was learning in Slutzk under the Ridbaz, the memories were still raw and painful (see Yeshurun, 20:131, “The Mara D’Asra of America”).
However, the Chofetz Chaim knew exactly how to respond.
The great author of the Mishnah Berurah looked sharply at the dentist and said, “And I am beginning to doubt whether or not you are really a doctor.”
The offended man proudly led the Chofetz Chaim to his wall of certificates, pointing to his diploma from a prestigious dental school. After examining it carefully, the wise tzaddik commented, “I see that this is dated forty years ago. Perhaps you were once properly validated in this field, but who says that you are still capable of functioning in this capacity?”
Now the dentist was truly outraged. “Do I have to obtain new certification every year? It is sufficient that four decades ago I took the tests and passed with flying colors.”
Now it was the Chofetz Chaim’s turn to be triumphant. “The Creator, too,” he patiently explained, “has proven Who He is long ago. After many years of ‘hiding His face,’ He demonstrated that He created the world and that it is still under His providence. He took us out of Mitzrayim with numerous open miracles. In the process, He overturned all the laws of nature and clearly proved that He is still in charge. That is His certificate, which is infinitely greater than yours. Now He, for His own reasons, has decided to hide His face once again. But He doesn’t need to reestablish that He runs the world any more than you have to return to dental school.”
Rav Shternbuch concludes that this is exactly what we do on Pesach night when we tell our children and grandchildren about Yetzias Mitzrayim. Since this once happened to all of us—“as if we ourselves left Mitzrayim”—it needn’t be proven again and again.
This follows a lesson he quotes elsewhere (Teshuvos Vehanhagos, p. 1,082) from the Baal Shem Tov. Although a proud descendant and follower of the Gra, Rav Shternbuch cites the founder of Chassidus’ emphasis on emunah peshutah, simple faith. He cites the halacha that even if two great Torah scholars are sharing the Seder, they must ask each other the Four Questions of the Mah Nishtanah.
“Why,” he asks, “is it necessary for such outstanding talmidei chachomim to descend to such elementary queries?” The answer, he explains, is that even the greatest—and perhaps especially the most intellectual—must return to the most basic act of faith.
One of the poignant proofs he cites is the well-known insight of the Chossid Yaavetz, one of those expelled from Spain in 1492. He writes painfully that while the “simple folks” readily gave up their lives rather than submit to the threats of the Church and bow down to idols, it was the so-called superior scholars who rationalized committing one of the cardinal sins.
Indeed, Rav Shternbuch notes that while many of the early greats—such as the Moreh Nevuchim, Chovos Halevavos, Akeidas Yitzchos, and, we may add, the Kuzari—offered proofs of the existence of Hashem, for the average Yid this evidence is totally unnecessary. It has been embedded in our bones and DNA. One of the goals of the Seder night is to once again ensure that our faith is pure and doesn’t require any new validation.
I would like to suggest that perhaps this is one reason why the Haggadah focuses on the Four Sons to whom we address the saga of the Exodus. First of all, we must all prepare to become children once again—children who believe in the most essential and fundamental of ways. But more amazingly, the Haggadah stresses that every child, even the one who cannot formulate questions, let alone know the answers, can be taught about our past glories and the certainty that we will once again experience those and even greater miracles.
It is both wonderful and notable that all those completing Maseches Sanhedrin just in time for Pesach have spent the month preparing for the Seder learning about the miracles that will occur when Moshiach arrives. Despite various approaches, the Gemara and commentaries make clear that the novi (Micha 7:15) reassures us that the future redemption will mirror Yetzias Mitzrayim. This merges our full belief in the nissim of the Exodus with our equally powerful faith that Moshiach will surely arrive to redeem us as well.
This twinning of Yetzias Mitzrayim with Moshiach is readily seen in the conclusion of the Haggadah, which brings us forward to the End of Days, when we will finally understand everything that has transpired throughout the millennia. But there is another proof of this connection as well.
The Belzer Rebbe, Rav Aharon, noted what at first seems like a strange discrepancy in the Haggadah. When we are about to perform Korech, eating the matzah and maror together in accordance with the ruling of Hillel, we recite the posuk of “al matzos umerorim yochluhu.” The problem is that this posuk appears in the Torah (Bamidbar 9:11) regarding the Pesach Sheini, which is reserved for people who were unable to offer the regular Korban Pesach. The posuk from the first Korban Pesach (Shemos 12:8) is the less familiar “umatzos al merorim yochluhu.”
The obvious question is: Why has Klal Yisroel recited the verse from the second Korban Pesach for thousands of years rather than the one from the first?
The Belzer Rebbe answers brilliantly but plainly: By the time we recite the Haggadah, even if, G-d willing, Moshiach arrives in the middle, it will be too late to bring the regular Korban Pesach. Therefore, being practical, at the Seder, we set our sights on doing the next best thing—bringing the Pesach Sheini. In any case, this helps us understand why, as we move toward the end of the Seder and Haggadah, we turn our attention to the future, when we will, G-d willing, offer the Pesach Sheini immediately after Yom Tov. This inspires us to reflect on the events that will then take place and reminds us that our faith is strong and firm that Moshiach will soon come to redeem us.
We are now in a position to better understand many aspects of Pesach and the Seder. Matzah is called michla demehemnusa—the food of belief (Zohar 2:183). In other words, simply eating the matzah helps bring us to complete faith.
In fact, Rav Mendel Riminover (Divrei Menachem, Likkutim, Pesach 34b) writes: “On the night of Pesach, a person can arrive at complete knowledge and belief in Hashem if he guards his thoughts on this night, keeping all his thoughts holy, just as those who actually left Mitzrayim long ago. This promise will hold true for all eternity.”
Rav Tzadok Hakohein of Lublin (Pri Tzaddik, Maamorei Pesach 9), the Bnei Yissoschor (Maamorei Nissan 8), and many others reflect this same view about the power of Pesach and matzah. Rav Yonasan David, rosh yeshiva of Yeshivas Pachad Yitzchok (Maamorei Pesach 9:11, p. 57), adds that “matzah opens hearts, creates faith, and removes barriers.”
Many of us just learned in Daf Yomi (Sanhedrin 90a) that Hashem both punishes and rewards middah keneged middah, measure for measure. Thus, the Haggadah teaches us that if the wicked son, the rasha, had been in Mitzrayim, he would not have been redeemed because he did not believe in the coming geulah. Conversely, since Klal Yisroel believed what Moshe Rabbeinu told them (Shemos 4:31), they were redeemed.
We, too, can, G-d willing, merit the long-awaited geulah by strengthening our faith, eating the matzah with that goal in mind, and thereby—hopefully—living to see Moshiach Tzidkeinu, bimeheirah beyomeinu.
