Pesach, Sacrifice and Shared Burdens

On Pesach, we celebrate freedom and survival. But we also remember the difficulty of the Exodus and the challenges along the way. This duality is central to the holiday and was powerfully embodied in many aspects of the Seder we just held.

For example, the matza reminded us both of freedom and slavery; the wine symbolized both jubilation and the blood of those lost in servitude. The maror evoked the bitterness of the Egyptian experience, yet was also used to enhance the savory taste of the Paschal sacrifice.

The charoset directed our memory both to the fragrant apple orchards in which Jewish women would secretly birth their children in the belief of a brighter future, and to the thick mortar the Jewish slaves would prepare in their labor.

A central commandment of the Seder, of course, is not only to remember the flight from Egypt, but to relive it through story and ritual as if we ourselves were there. All of us wrestled with this balance between victory and loss, a tension which felt even more poignant this year than ever.

Ideally, remembering and reflecting on the costs of victory over our enemies makes us even more appreciative of the resulting freedom. On a spiritual level, these intertwined lessons of sacrifice and survival-against-all-odds serve as a mandate to pursue what we believe is necessary, even when the cost is high.

As this Pesach has reminded us, after more than 18 months of war, we see and feel as a nation both the progress we’ve made and the enormous sacrifices and losses it has required.

Since last Pesach, there has indeed been progress. More hostages have returned home; Hamas and Hezbollah are weaker; Iran is more vulnerable and several key terror leaders have been eliminated, including Sinwar, Haniyah and Nasrallah.

And yet, at the same time, our losses have also grown; more soldiers have fallen, more hostages have been murdered, and countless others – young and not-so-young – have been wounded. Tens of thousands of Israelis have continued to serve additional days of reserve duty, spending long periods away from their families with their lives at risk.

These enormous costs have made our progress possible. They have also imbued our defensive fight with meaning, ultimately making these sacrifices truly holy – and bringing the themes of the Pesach Seder into our real, everyday lives.

However, only some parts of Am Israel are carrying the burden of these sacrifices. With their continued refusal to serve in the IDF, the “ultra-Orthodox” sector is experiencing the benefits of progress in the war, without directly making a contribution. This is deeply immoral, against halakha and puts the entire country at risk—as the army faces staffing challenges that could be eased if more people were taking part in our defense.

It also goes against the halakha of warfare, which commands that in certain situations, minimally all men must serve. Today, we are in a “milchemet mitzvah/chova,” or a war of defense that is a religious obligation for all to participate in (Sotah 8:7). The refusal to serve is in opposition to the spiritual lesson of Pesach, that sacrifices and hardships are required for true redemption.

How is it possible for those who do not serve to truly internalize the notion of redemption while not being part of the struggle, not observing this halakhic obligation? When an entire community, even those who never visit a Beit Midrash, are actively refusing to make the contributions and sacrifices required today to ensure the safety and security of the Jewish people, how can they celebrate the Pesach experience?

None of us would have chosen this war, or to have to pay these costs, or even to see others suffer from the inevitable collateral damage of a just war. This very human feeling is also part of the duality of the Seder: As we recall the plagues, we spill out wine from our cup not just to recall these events that weakened the Egyptians, but also in order to properly acknowledge that in the suffering of others our cup must not be full. Still, both today and in Biblical times, Am Israel has had to struggle, fight and experience loss in order to achieve redemption.

As we move through Chol Hamoed toward the final day of Pesach, my prayer is that all of Am Israel will continue to absorb the message of this holiday: that real redemption requires sacrifice – and that each of us must do our part in carrying the burden together.

For it is only then that we will truly understand the slavery and freedom in the matzah; the blood and jubilation in the wine. This is how we came out of Egypt and it is the only way we can thrive as a secure country, and can once again move closer to the ultimate redemption – as individuals, as a people and as a nation.