Translated by Boruch Merkur
It is possible that someone could argue: But it’s good for me in exile! Thanks to G-d’s kindness, I live in America, and I am able to study Torah and do Mitzvos in peace. So why should I scream and cry out – he argues – about going out of exile?! * To our great dismay, it is not merely hypothetical that someone could maintain such a misguided line of reasoning…
1. Now it is Pesach, “the time of our emancipation,” when the time of year itself proclaims that there is a need for freedom. That is, the true freedom of (Pesach, whose perfection will be realized with) the true and complete redemption (a redemption that will never be followed by another exile). (The redemption of Purim, on the other hand, was an incomplete redemption. Indeed, the Jewish people were well aware of the deficiency, recognizing that “we are still subjects of Achashverosh.”) During this time of year, a Jew should, therefore, raise his voice and cry out about the intolerable length of the exile, “Ad masai?! When will it end?!” And he should ask and plead that the redemption should come immediately.
It is possible, however, that one could argue: But it’s good for me in exile! Thanks to G-d’s kindness, I live in America, the Kingdom of Kindness, and I am able to study Torah and fulfill Mitzvos in peace. So why should I scream and cry out – he reasons – about going out of exile?!
That is, someone may claim that he sees himself as a “ger,” a “sojourner,” who had it good in Mitzrayim, whose ancestors were not subjugated in Egypt of old. So how is he supposed to relate to anything to do with Pesach – he argues – anything to do with the emancipation and redemption from Egypt, when it was actually good for him there!
He continues to assert that he is an “ezrach ha’aretz,” a “native resident,” in the literal sense – an American citizen! And when you tell him that when the time comes to leave the exile behind, to pack up his bags, etc., and to prepare to go up and travel “with the clouds of heaven,” flying to Eretz Yisroel – when he hears these tidings, a groan escapes his lips. Why should he have to move from his place of residence (“moving is difficult for a man” ––see K’subos 28a)? He has it good here as an American citizen. They leave him alone to live as a Jew. In fact, they even help him!
2. To be more specific, his concern is not that he is leaving behind the “sir ha’basar – the fleshpots” of Egypt, for certainly he knows that spirituality is the main thing. Rather, his concern about picking up and moving is with regard to spiritual matters.
At present he is engaged in Torah study, including disseminating the teachings of the Torah to others, even “spreading the wellsprings outward.” He is even capable of identifying – “he indicates with his finger and says ‘this’” – how this approach has a positive impact on his Torah study, what it does for his service of G-d through prayer, and how it affects his performance of Mitzvos b’hiddur, with finesse, as it ought to be, and so on.
He goes on to argue that in terms of spirituality, there have never been such good times as at present in America, the Kingdom of Kindness, where there is no opposition to Jewish interests. In fact, America assists him in several respects – and with a smile! Thus, he is truly lacking nothing (not creature comforts nor what is of primary importance, his spiritual concerns). So why must he leave exile?!
First off, leaving exile will cause him to waste time. He will have to pack his belongings up in boxes and move, and later unpack. True, the journey will be upon “the clouds of heaven,” but that too is a bother – to go up to the clouds and to descend, among other inconveniences… And that being the case, why should he move?
Moreover, and this is the main thing, when Moshiach Tzidkeinu comes, all the Jewish people will come to “an inhabited land [as opposed to a wilderness].” (He doesn’t know whether Moshiach will come as “a pauper riding a donkey,” were it to be the case that “they were not [found to be] worthy,” or if he will come “with the clouds of heaven,” should they be found to be “worthy.” Whatever the case, certainly they will come to “an inhabited land.”) And since this is a certainty, he will have to be involved with working the land, further detracting from his service of G-d!
True, it is said that then, a Jew’s labor will be done by others (Brachos 35b), but he will still have to be bothered to go out and find a Gentile to help him, and from time to time oversee his work to determine if the Gentile is performing in accordance with his expectations. Likewise, he will have to check to see if there is enough straw for the cattle, etc.
But in the meanwhile, in the time of exile, he has neither fields nor cattle; his livelihood is provided for him automatically. He has masses of wealth, thank G-d, which accrues interest – by means of a heter iska, and the like [establishing partnerships in investments and thereby avoiding the prohibition of charging interest to a Jew]. He is free of worry, because – in addition to other means of security – the government itself backs the bank’s guarantee of the availability of his funds; the government is the guarantor! With this peace of mind, he can study Torah and fulfill Mitzvos b’hiddur in tranquility.
Recent innovations further contribute to his ability to serve G-d in peace and tranquility. For example, in former times it was difficult to obtain t’fillin mehudaros, t’fillin crafted in accordance with the highest possible standards, and it was necessary to undergo extensive inconveniences to obtain livestock that have all the hiddurim, using the skin of an unborn calf [for example, to be used for parchment]. But now, even if the materials are not available in his locality, there is no problem. He has a telephone and he can call intercontinentally and enquire where he can find a cow that bears the necessary unborn calf, and if it is still intact, for his desire is to produce t’fillin in the most enhanced way possible. (This is especially relevant now, for on Chol HaMoed Pesach we read in the Torah the section that speaks about t’fillin.)
The same applies to the Mitzva of Tz’daka, giving charity. Times are so good that although he wants to give tz’daka, there is simply no poor person to be found!
(This can be classified as a “plague that is not mentioned in the Torah.” (If only more and more “plagues” such as these would befall us!) In fact, it says explicitly in the Torah, “The impoverished shall never cease from the land.” (Our Sages have taught that the contradictory verse, “Indeed, there shall not be a pauper among you,” only applies to the Future Era of Redemption.)
(To be sure, there is a scenario discussed in Torah about being free from poverty. It appears in a law ruled in Shulchan Aruch regarding the Mitzva to give gifts to the poor on Purim. If there should be a neighborhood or city that has no poor people, since one would, therefore, not be able to give money to a poor person on the day of Purim itself, one must give it to the administrator of a charity, in accordance with all the details of the law in Shulchan Aruch.)
Although he cannot find a poor person in his vicinity, he still has the opportunity to speak on the phone and to search across the globe until he finds a poor person. And when he finds someone, he can donate money to him, authorizing the transfer of funds by means of telephone, etc., in a manner whereby the money arrives instantaneously, or at least in but a moment’s time.
And since this is so – he continues to argue – since the modern world so accommodates Jewish life, why are they screaming about the redemption?!
You say that “all the predicted dates [for the advent of Moshiach] have passed.” If that is in fact the case, there is no opposition, but why the uproar?! So many years have gone by, and in the course of that period he learned Torah and performed Mitzvos, etc., so what is the tumult all about?!
Naturally, there will come a time when the Alm-ghty Himself comes forth and forces him to go out of exile, as it says, “And you [the Jewish people] will be gathered one by one.” At that time, he too will certainly not remain in exile; G-d Al-ghty will take him by his hat or by the corner of his garment and take him out. There will then be no alternative. But until that time, why should he ask for it of his own accord?! At least he should not push the advent of Moshiach forward, earlier than its destined time!
3. To our great dismay, it is not merely hypothetical that someone could maintain such a line of reasoning. If only it would not have come to pass as it has!
In fact, it is truly ironic that, especially in recent times, when there are those who seek to rouse others about the need to scream “ad masai?! – how much longer must we suffer in exile?!” asking and pleading for the redemption, it is specifically now that the cynics come forward and pour cold water over the souls of others, souls that were inspired to boldly proclaim that people need to work at bringing Moshiach Tzidkeinu as soon as possible (the sooner, the better!). As a result of this cynicism, many people have been weakened (not only in their outcry and pleading “ad masai?!” but even in) their resolve in the very faith in the coming of Moshiach Tzidkeinu.
The only explanation for this unfortunate state of affairs is that since it is the ultimate finale of history, the denouement of exile, it is more relevant than ever to scream “ad masai?!” more urgent than ever that people should beg and plead for the redemption. It is for this very reason, precisely because it is so incredibly vital right now, that it is met with such determined resistance from the forces of evil.
As is known, not all times are equal; every time period has something particular about it that is undesirable and which should be identified as the main target in the war waged against evil in that period.
Support for the above can be brought from a timely source (albeit not something that casts the Jewish people in a favorable light), from what is written in the Haftora of the second day of Pesach, regarding the Pesach sacrifice offered in the time of Yoshiyahu:
“And the king commanded all the people, saying, ‘Perform a Pesach offering to G-d, your L-rd’ … For a Pesach offering such as this had not been performed since the time of the Judges … nor in all the days of the kings of Yisroel or the kings of Yehuda – except in the eighteenth year of King Yoshiyahu was this Paschal offering made to G-d in Yerushalayim” (Melachim II 23:21-23). This passage is said of a time that followed the eradication of everything pertaining to idolatry from the land of Yehuda and Yerushalayim, and from the Sanctuary of G-d. Indeed, idolatry was so prevalent prior to this general purge that they needed a special warning that “the [idolatrous] priests of the high places should not ascend to the altar of G-d in Yerushalayim” (ibid 23:9).
At first glance, it is not understood: At the time of the First Temple, the Beis HaMikdash contained the Aron (the Holy Ark) and the Urim V’Tumim (the name of G-d written on parchment and kept inside the breastplate of the Kohen Gadol), among other holy artifacts. How could something so lowly – idolatry – coexist with such holiness?!
The answer is that elevated spirituality itself evokes its counterpart. That is, since during the Era of the First Temple there was such a profound revelation of holiness and G-dliness, there was a correspondingly powerful presence of the Other Side opposing faith in G-d, specifically manifest in the inclination towards idolatry [a balance established in Creation to permit freewill].
The extent of the seductive power of idolatry is described in the Gemara (Sanhedrin 102b, beg.): Rav Ashi asked Menasheh son of Chizkiyahu (who had appeared to him in a dream), “Since you are so wise, why is it that you worshiped idols?” Menasheh answers, a truthful answer that is brought in the Torah of Truth: “Had you been there [at the time], you would have lifted up the skirt of your garment and raced after me [to worship idols]” (“You would have raised the hem of your robe from between your legs in order that it would be easier for you to run there [towards the idols], on account of the [strong] inclination towards idolatry that prevailed” –Rashi)!
So too, in our case. Since at the final period of history, the end of exile, it is so vital to scream “ad masai?!” and beg for the redemption, therefore, there is such a powerful opposition to this imperative.
4. The conclusion of the Torah reading teaches and instructs us how to respond to this challenge: “And if a ger (a stranger) shall sojourn with you, and he shall make a Pesach offering to G-d, he shall act in accordance with the rite of the Pesach offering and its rule. There shall be one law for you and for the ger and the ezrach ha’aretz (one who is born in the land).”
This is the lesson derived: You may one day encounter a Jew who insists that he sees himself, with respect to the story of the exodus from (the Egyptian) exile, as a “ger” who had not been subjugated in Egypt. That is, he doesn’t wish to leave, because it is good for him in exile. Tell this Jew to consider more carefully what the Torah instructs the ger. Indeed, the exodus from Egypt has application to the ger as well, as the verse states, “There shall be one law for you and for the ger.” The reason for his inclusion here is because he is actually connected to the Jewish people in the very essence of his being. It is just that this essence may be concealed in him, and there is a need (with the act of conversion) for it to come out in the open and be revealed. So too with regard to a Jew who argues that it is good for him in exile (like a “ger” who was not enslaved in Egypt), for this feeling is only superficial, a facade. However, in the essence of his being he desires to go out of exile and be a “free man.”
This desire for asserting oneself as a free man finds expression in every Jew’s saying (or thinking), “I believe … in the coming of Moshiach … I shall eagerly await his coming every day,” and he prays in the Shmoneh Esrei, “May the shoot of Dovid, Your servant, speedily sprout forth,” “and may our eyes behold Your return from Tziyon.”
It is simply that this true will may be concealed. And one of the ways that it can be revealed is by making a tumult about the importance of crying out “ad masai?!” and the need to plead and beg for the redemption.
Similarly, when a Jew argues that since he is presently living in the “Kingdom of Kindness,” he sees himself as a “native of the land,” you should tell him, “There shall be one law for you and for the ger, as well as the native of the land.” Even as a “native of the land” – an American citizen, who conducts himself in accordance with the national customs, being that “the law of the kingdom is law” – you must reveal your true will and leave exile and come to our holy land and Yerushalayim the holy city.
The fact of the matter is that he is a born citizen of Tziyon and Yerushalayim, as the Psalmist articulates, “this one was born there,” “This man and that man were born in it.” That is, every single Jew is among those who were “born in Tziyon,” which is called “Yerushalayim” on account of both “yira – fear” and “shalem – complete, whole” (a concept that is expressed also in one’s service of G-d – [the goal of attaining] a complete and perfected fear of G-d). It is just that this needs to be revealed in him.
Further insight on the topic of “ezrach ha’aretz – a native of the land” is gained from the teachings of Chassidus (Likkutei Torah, Parshas R’ei, beg., among other places). “Ezrach ha’aretz” carries the connotation of what is described in the verse, “Maskil l’Eisan HaEzrachi” (T’hillim 89:1). “Eisan” means “strength” and “power,” alluding to the powerful connection of a Jew to the Alm-ghty (“a simple will without any conceivable underlying reason or consideration”), the connection rooted in the essence of the soul. “And this is the meaning of ‘ha’ezrachi,’ which is derived from the expression, ‘ezrach ha’aretz – a native of the land,’ for every single person possesses this [essential] quality from time immemorial.” It is just that, in the current condition of the world, prior to the redemption, the essence can be concealed. In the Future Era, however, the essential bond of the Jew to the Alm-ghty will be revealed in every single Jew, which is also alluded to by the fact that “ezrach” is a reference to the future (“ma sh’ani asid l’hazriach”).
It is understood that the act of arousing another in this matter (as is the case with all matters of Torah and Mitzvos) needs to be done amicably and peacefully. At the same time, it must be done with the appropriate force, so that it will have an impact on the other and reveal in him that he too, in essence, shares this belief. Then more vitality is added to the uproar, also in the one who reached out to the other – “More than the home owner does for the poor man, the poor man does for the home owner.”
5. Of course, there are those who are suspicious of reaching out to others, to mingle into someone else’s private affairs and his personal conduct, etc. True – such a person might argue – when we are speaking about doing a Mitzva or deterring someone from transgressing a prohibition, he has no choice; he must approach the other and tell him: “Listen up! The Torah commands me to mix in to your personal affairs,” as is stated, “You shall surely rebuke your associate,” “love your fellow as yourself.” And this is to be done by means of love as well as rebuke (as our Sages say, “the right arm draws close,” and then, “the left arm shuns.” In fact, the aversion itself is only with the left, weaker arm.) However, in our case, talking about getting others to cry out for the end of exile, this is an instance of “our fathers did not see.” He never heard of this from his father – and certainly not from his grandfather – that his father or grandfather went out into the street or stood in the synagogue in the middle of the day and cried out: “Ad masai?! How is it possible that Moshiach Tzidkeinu still has not come?!”
(The Rebbe shlita smiled and said) How do I know about his complaint? For I too did not hear this from my father, and certainly not my grandfather… I didn’t even hear this from myself prior to my immigrating to the United States of America. (I don’t know why this is so, but that is the way it is.) The fact of the matter is that this approach has positive results, notwithstanding that there are those who have distaste for it.
In general, people tend to be dissatisfied with others. That is human nature, for the mindsets of individuals differ. This person is not satisfied with the conduct of the other, with his father, his grandfather, adviser, rabbi, and so on.
In any event, when you look at the little Jewish children and see how they scream “daloi galus!” [Russian for “enough with exile!”] it is clear that it is all worthwhile. How much more so regarding adolescents, after the age of Bar Mitzva, who likewise cry out “daloi galus!” – though not necessarily in Russian, but in Yiddish, the Holy Tongue, or whatever lingo they may use, so long as the intent is the same.
(From the address of 19 Nissan, 5748, bilti muga)