Shabbos HaGadol 5780
Where should the story actually begin? As we set out to relate the story of Yetzias Mitzrayim, it would seem obvious that the scope of the tale we tell should should be bookended by the the borders of Egypt. Describe how we got there, how we left, and all that occurred in between. But this obvious approach appears to be the subject of a debate between Rav and Shmuel, related in the Gemara in Pesachim (116a):
מתחיל בגנות ומסיים בשבח: מאי בגנות? רב אמר, מתחלה עובדי עבודת גלולים היו אבותינו. ושמואל אמר, עבדים היינו
[The Mishna said], “Begin with the disgrace and end with the glory.” What is the “disgrace”? Rav said, “That our ancestors were originally idolators.” Shmuel said, “That we were once slaves [to Pharaoh].”
Shmuel’s opinion is readily understood. But what of Rav’s? In attempting to explain the Mishna’s call for a theme of “מתחיל בגנות ומסיים בשבח—Begin with the disgrace and end with the glory” in relating the story of the Exodus, Rav sees the starting point as occurring in the generations that preceded even Avraham Avinu. How could Rav suggest that such a wide net be cast as we attempt to relate a story pertaining only to our deliverance from Egyptian servitude?
Rav Soloveitchik (see Harerei Kedem Vol. II, 87) offers a novel and immensely compelling explanation. He posits that the Mishna’s demand that we “begin with the disgrace and end with the glory” is not made with respect to the mitzvah of Sippur Yetzias Mitzrayim—of telling the story of the Exodus—but the mitzvah of Hoda’ah—of giving thanks to Hashem. Rav believed that while the storytelling itself may well be limited to a discussion of what happened in Mitzrayim, the true nature of the thanksgiving we’re meant to offer on the Seder night pertains to our developing into a Holy Nation, covenantally bound to the One True G-d. The thanks we owe Hashem in this capacity begins with the disgrace in our own ancestors’ acceptance of paganism, many generations before we’d ever set foot in Egypt.
The telling of a story is a mere factual rendition of what occurred. Though the best and most compelling stories may indeed include some element of redemption from a humiliating, harrowing state, this is not, per se, a prerequisite for storytelling. Hoda’ah—thanksgiving—on the other hand, is different. One cannot truly give thanks without appreciating the difficult background from which the current blessings have emerged. It is only by first noting the “disgrace”—the dark, trying reality of yesterday—that we can truly express gratitude for today’s change in fortune. In the realm of hoda’ah, we must acknowledge the role of struggle in properly accentuating blessing, making it more fully palpable. Only against a dark landscape can light be truly appreciated.
If expressing gratitude necessitates an awareness of the contrast between bad times and good, I’d suggest two important exercises as we prepare for Pesach this year. The first is to contrast the present with the future, as we maintain our faith in Hashem and hope for brighter times ahead. This year has its difficulties. The COVID-19 epidemic has visited pain, suffering, and isolation upon our society. But this is not the end of our journey. Next year, we’ll be able to offer praise, true praise to Hashem for the blessings of that future time, and that praise will be more genuine than ever as we compare it to the hardships of this year. Next year we will appreciate the simple joys of sitting around a Yom Tov table with friends, of standing shoulder to shoulder as we recite Hallel, of hearing the Mah Nishtanah recited by a grandchild, so much more acutely than ever. This year does not stand on its own; it is the difficulty of this year that will make next year’s hoda’ah even more potent.
And a second exercise. Let’s not only look to the future, but to the past as well. Yes, our numbers will be fewer this year as we gather around the Seder tables. Some will be dining without any company whatsoever. But when contrasted to other times—indeed, when contrasted with the struggles we read about in the Haggadah itself—there is so much we can be truly thankful for. We are not at the mercy of vicious overlords who use us as their personal property to amass fabulous wealth for an empire not our own. No matter the circumstances, we are not as isolated as Yaakov Avinu when he found himself removed from his family, living with an Aramean uncle who sought to physically break and spiritually destroy him. Whatever one’s personal situation, each of us has the care and support of communities with more extraordinary means and resources than ever before in Jewish history. Let’s appreciate the contrast between times far darker than our own and the relative light of today, and offer Hoda’ah to Hashem.
May we know times of greater health, prosperity, and companionship soon. Let us appreciate the struggles of this year for the role they will play in providing more pronounced joy in the future. And let us make this year one in which we can still offer hoda’ah, seeing that far darker times of old have yielded to the still present blessings of today.