Bo 5772

Those of us who grew up before the start of the era of modern Jewish music may remember the Hebrew School version of Avadim Hayinu. (Avadim Hayinu, Hayinu; Atta B’nei Chorin, Benai Chorin…) This, of course, is a corruption of the quote from the Haggadah – in turn based on Devarim 6:21 – and not an inconsequential corruption at that. By omitting the Divine Name, credit is not being given where credit is due.

But there is a second, much more subtle corruption – the omission of the reference to Pharaoh in Egypt having been our master. By presenting the Exodus as a transition from generic servitude to generic freedom, we lose sight of the true significance of those miraculous events. In actuality, Yetzias Mitzraim was not emancipation but rather a change of ownership; we were servants to Pharaoh and now we are servants of Hashem.

Yet, Pesach is called Zman Cherusaynu – the time of our freedom. But given that we are servants of Hashem, in what sense are we truly free?

The answer is simple but profound.

The essential difference between the eved and the ben chorin is not that the former is bound and the latter is free. Were this to be the case, every acceptance of responsibility – employment, marriage, parenthood – would be a reduction of our freedom. Yet, even the most ardent freedom lover does not advocate our abandonment of these commitments.

The actual difference is that everything the eved does is for the enrichment of his master; everything the ben chorin does – even within the context of a commitment to responsible action – is ultimately for his own enrichment. The servant of Hashem is the ultimate ben chorin. As Hashem has no personal needs, being omnipotent and self-sufficient, His Mitzvos are totally for the benefit of those He commands for, if we live in accordance with them, we enjoy lives of purpose and meaning in This World as well as lives of bliss and enlightenment in the World to Come. Thus, the eved of Hashem is in reality self-employed.

This discussion leads to a counter-intuitive conclusion: The more we are devoted to doing Hashem’s will, the more we are doing for ourselves. The challenge of life is to realize and accept this simple truth. Self-indulgent libertarianism only seems preferable to religious commitment; the libertarian is really digging himself into a deeper and deeper hole. But the illusion is both seductive and compelling.

As we contemplate the early history of our people, there is a question we might wish to consider: Why was it necessary that slavery be such an integral part of our formation? In light of the above discussion, we may suggest an answer: The grand strategy of the Ribbono Shel Olam was to create a set of circumstances wherein our making a total commitment to the service of Hashem would be preferable to the status quo. Thus, as servants of Pharoah, we were in the optimal position for the acceptance of the yoke of the Kingdom of Heaven.

In the Hagaddah we recite, “If the Holy One Blessed be He would not have freed our forefathers from Egypt, we, our children, and our children’s children, would still be enslaved to Pharaoh in Egypt.” Understanding this may give us a new perspective on our religious lives. The choice we face is not responsibility vs. freedom. It is enslavement to Pharaoh vs. the service of Hashem. That choice should be – as the saying goes – a “no-brainer”.