Pesach is in the air. You sense it everywhere. You smell it and you feel it. Just look at the signs all over the streets: kashering, car cleaning, shaimos, and the sales…
Yet, despite all the action heralding Pesach, there is a question: How do we prepare for Pesach?
Huh? Doesn’t everyone know how we prepare for Pesach? If you would ask any akeres habayis how she prepares for Pesach, she would probably be insulted and retort, “What do you mean? What do you think I’ve been doing for the last few days, weeks, and months? Haven’t you seen me cleaning, scrubbing, buffing, and getting on my hands and knees trying to find every crumb in every corner?”
Preparing for Pesach is a major undertaking. All hands are on deck!
Certainly, the physical hachanos revolve around cleaning and cooking, cleaning and shopping, cleaning and kashering… and did we say cleaning?
Still, it is clear that we must also make spiritual hachanos for Pesach.
Now, what would most of us assume to be the appropriate spiritual hachanos for Pesach? Learning the story of Yetzias Mitzrayim? Understanding the makkos? Learning hilchos Pesach? Or perhaps properly learning the Haggadah so that when the Seder comes we are prepared?
Indeed, these are all worthy ways to spiritually prepare for Pesach, but I would like to share an amazing piece from Tanna Devei Eliyahu that shows us that the answer to how one should prepare for Pesach is not at all what we would expect.
The Hachanah at the Time of Yetzias Mitzrayim
Based on the Tanna Devei Eliyahu, it appears that the hachanah of the Bnei Yisroel at the time of Yetzias Mitzrayim was to invest all of their energy into remaining b’achdus, unified as one, by helping each other in any way they could. The Tanna Devei Eliyahu (Rabbah 24) says, “Those who left Mitzrayim had only one mitzvah to fulfill, but that one mitzvah was even dearer to Hashem than one hundred other mitzvos. That mitzvah was the fact that they were all together as one and that they made a covenant to do chesed with each other.”
I once saw that one of the gedolei hador brought proof to this concept by showing that among the primary themes of the Korban Pesach is what the posuk teaches us: “The entire congregation of Klal Yisroel shall slaughter [the Korban Pesach in the afternoon]” (Shemos 12:6).
Yes, all the individuals of Klal Yisroel had to bring the Korban Pesach together, with achdus. In addition, the Korban Pesach had to be eaten together, in a chaburah, a group.
Achdus: The Primary Mitzvah; Not Just a Nice Thing to Do
We see from here that the primary mitzvah that the Yidden had at the time of Yetzias Mitzrayim was achdus, unity—helping each other and being there for each other. Ahavah and achvah were not just nice middos and nice things to do in addition to the mitzvos. Rather, ahavah and achvah were the actual hachanah and introduction to Yetzias Mitzrayim. Without them, there could not have been a Yetzias Mitzrayim.
So yes, as we prepare for Pesach, we should clean and clean and make sure that we don’t transgress the issur of bal yeira’eh and bal yeimatzei. At the same time, however, let us also realize that the ikkar hachanah of the Bnei Yisroel during the time of Yetzias Mitzrayim was sticking together, holding together, helping one another, and being there for one another, materially and emotionally.
A World Engulfed in Divisiveness
This message, I feel, is especially relevant this year. Sadly, we are in a period of great strife, both in the outside world and, lehavdil, in the Jewish world as well. There is tremendous polarization in society. Politics has become a blood sport. Just look at what is happening in America. No one has any interest in finding common ground anymore. Even things that one might think all Americans can agree on are subject to bitter dispute.
For example, in the moral battle between President Donald Trump and the violent Venezuelan gang Tren de Aragua, the Democrats and the media have chosen a side: The foreign gangsters are less morally questionable than the president.
In Eretz Yisroel, too, it seems that for some, getting rid of the prime minister is even more important than getting rid of the Hamas murderers.
Even in the frum world, sadly, we are engulfed by all kinds of strife—smaller fights and bigger fights. It seems that in the age of social media, there is no such thing as chilukei dei’os. Everything is personal. It seems that you cannot disagree with someone without demonizing him. That is the culture of social media today, and without a doubt, if we are not careful, it can spill over into our own world.
The Antidote
This year, as we prepare for Yetzias Mitzrayim, let us also engage in this type of hachanah. Let us try to see things from the perspectives of others, even if it is not our own. Let us try to put ourselves in the place of others and think about what we would want if we were in their shoes. Let us always think with sensitivity about the needs of others, even if their needs are not the same as our needs.
Even more than that, let us try to learn from people who are greater than us. I recently heard a story about Rav Matisyohu Salomon, a story that shows how a difference of opinion and even shabby treatment did not in any way diminish Rav Matisyohu’s love for another Jew.
Paltiel lived in Lakewood and saw himself as an askan. He had his ways of doing things and twisting arms.
When the mashgiach came along and approached klal matters in a way that was not in sync with Paltiel’s way of doing things, he was furious. Fueled by his fury, he went out of his way to make the mashgiach’s life miserable, even taking public stances against the mashgiach.
Then came a time when Paltiel needed a favor. Not only did he need a favor, but there was only one person who could help him—and that was the mashgiach. Yes, the very person to whom he had caused so much grief was the only address for help.
Without a second thought, the mashgiach immediately helped him.
Pinchos, a talmid who witnessed the whole thing, was flabbergasted.
“Doesn’t the mashgiach remember what Paltiel did?” Pinchos protested.
“When a Yid needs help,” the mashgiach replied, “you don’t make cheshbonos. When you help a Yid, you help a Yid.”
End of conversation.
Perhaps, we, too, can rise above our personal pettiness to love our fellow Yidden. Perhaps, we can come together, as the Tanna Devei Eliyahu says, to perform the mitzvah that is dearer to Hashem than one hundred others—to help one another, to do chesed with each other, to care about each other and be b’achdus and b’ahavah with our fellow Yidden.
In that zechus, may Hashem shower His love upon us and bring us all together under the kanfei haShechinah with the geulah sheleimah bekarov.
