It has been over a month since the senseless slaughter of the eight young boys in the Mercaz HaRav Yeshiva. Though I usually attempt to pen some thought on a weekly basis, after that first night of Adar, words left me.
I have been more closely connected to other souls that were snuffed out by the vicious sword of Palestinian

Enslaved people need to prepare themselves spiritually and psychologically for the redemption of Passover.

terrorism, but the brutality of the murders and the general silence around the world - and especially in the corridors of our own government - simply rubbed salt into a festering wound. It was in one of the Torah portions of that period that the powerful words "vayidom Aharon" ( "And Aaron was stilled"; Leviticus 10:3), after the death of his two sons, carried meaning I had not understood before.


There are times when there is nothing to say; all that is left is to feel the pain and the suffering.


Our sages describe the thirty days before Passover, which begin with Purim, as days of spiritual preparation and strengthening (Mishnah Berurah 429:1). We begin with the festival that describes the ancient and eternal battle between the ideology of Randomness and the theology of Direction and Purpose. That battle continues unto these very days and at times even rages in the most faithful of hearts. Purim represents the day wherein hidden purpose was revealed so very clearly. On a deeper level then, our sages require that we begin our preparations with that revelation of Purim and continue to grow with that understanding until the newer revelation of Passover.
Enslaved people need to prepare themselves spiritually and psychologically for the redemption of Passover. And we are all still enslaved. We are enslaved to our whims and ego. We are trapped by the expectations of society around us. We are still imprisoned by our uncertainties and doubts. The time between Purim and Passover is used, then, to learn to step out of the pitfalls of happenstance and randomness and enter into the Passover season defined by the conception and realization of destiny.


Our sages tell us in the Mishnah (Pesachim), "Bechol dor vador chayav adam lirot et atzmo keilu hu yatza miMitzraim" - "In every generation one is required to view oneself as if one personally left Egypt." Maimonides (the Rambam) has a different version of the thought and writes, "...keilu hu atahyatza miMitzraim" - "...as if he is at this moment leaving Egypt." In Jewish thinking "time" is not linear, but cyclical. We do not only remember the Exodus from Egypt, we relive the idea of being liberated from our own limiting and confining Egypt in our very own individual lives. The Hebrew word for shackles or for things that bind and constrain us is meitzarim, which is the source of the Hebrew name for Egypt – Mitzrayim. We relive breaking those bonds, or meitsarim, in our individual or national life experience.


Thus is understood the source of the declaration of the farmer in the land of Israel who lives generations after the Exodus. When he brings his first fruits to the Temple, he makes a declaration that is then repeated in the Passover Haggadah: "The Egyptians dealt harshly with us and oppressed us they imposed heavy labor upon us. We cried to the Lord... and the Lord heard our plea and saw our plight, our misery, and our oppression. The Lord freed us from Egypt...." (Devarim 6-8)

At times, we get so accustomed to the bitterness in our lives we assume that it is the normal state of being.



Yet, in order to truly experience the Exodus from Egypt in this fashion, we need to acknowledge that we are still enslaved. In order to yearn and reach for freedom, we need to sense the bitter tastes that we have simply become accustomed to and therefore ignore.


One of the great Hassidic leaders, Reb Simcha Bunim of Psyshcha, offered a deep insight in this vein in reference to the maror, or bitter herbs, we eat at the Passover meal. We actually use the maror twice. Once as a bitter herb that must be chewed and experienced, and the second as chazeret, a type of grated bitter herbs that is eaten together with the matzah (and in Temple times, with the Passover sacrifice). The first taste of the maror delivers the clear message of bitterness and suffering. The second time, the maror becomes a spice that actually brings out the flavor of the matzah and the Passover meat.


Reb Simcha Bunim goes on to explain that, at times, we get so accustomed to the bitterness in our lives we assume that it is the normal state of being and cease to yearn for it to change. The bitterness of the maror is meant to remind us that there are greater things to yearn for than the bitterness that we become accustomed to. Only after such a realization can the herbs themselves be changed into a spice that will bring out the taste and yearning for complete redemption.


The people of Israel are undergoing the bitterness of hatred and oppression. They are experiencing it on the national level and, in some cases, on the personal level. It is that very bitterness that will strengthen the yearning for, and hasten the coming of, complete redemption in both the personal and national spheres.


The lessons learned from the senseless and brutal massacre are many and painful. The loss of such pure and obviously powerful souls is overwhelming for the families and devastating for the people of Israel. Yet, the courage, the faith and the vision of the bereaved families has moved the Jewish people one step closer to redemption. All the families have simply strengthened their faith, reinforced their resolve and moved closer to their Father in

The reporter asked the mother, "So where was G-d on that night?"

Heaven.


One mother was asked by a rather unscrupulous reporter about her son who was killed in the library of the Merkaz HaRav Yeshiva. The reporter asked the mother, "So where was G-d on that night?"


The mother seemed confused by the ignorant and insensitive question. "What do you mean?" she responded. "G-d was in the library as well."


The spiritual depth of the answer was probably lost on the reporter, but in the Heavens there was probably great weeping.


May this Pesach be a time of healing for the pained and hope to the wandering. May it be the time of ultimate and complete redemption for Israel and the whole world.