Sermon: On Freedom

Indeed, at a time when Israel was settled on their soil, in the land of Israel, the agricultural dimension of the holidays, their relation to the field, that is to say, their material aspect, was a present reality from one holiday to the next, whereas their spiritual side, that of miracles and wonders, was a thing of the past—memories of deliverances and marvels that had been performed for their ancestors. But in the period of our exile today—when we possess neither fields nor vineyards, neither light nor air, and even the air that we breathe is severely limited by narrow borders—the situation is reversed: the agricultural dimensions of the holidays are a thing of the past, of ancient memories, and for that reason the aspects of joy and physical celebration during the holidays are truly very weak. In lieu of this, the urgency of the moral lesson of each holiday has assumed increased importance. [ . . . ]

So let us now turn to explain the moral lesson of Passover.

Chapter 2

This holiday is known as the “festival of our freedom.” This name is very interesting, especially in recent times—the periods of “liberation movements”—because the views of people around the world are divided on this issue: some praise freedom as a great good, while others denounce and reject it. How necessary it is, then, to listen to the view of the Torah, the supreme wisdom, on this matter.

For us, the people of Israel, who are subject to a bitter exile, whose suffering is greatest among the peoples of the world, the matter of the exodus from Egypt, the exodus from a previous exile, is of special interest. Perhaps we will be able to find in it some stratagem to free ourselves of the present exile, or at the very least to find some relief and respite for our languishing souls, so that we can establish even a meager foothold. [ . . . ]

Is it not written in scripture (Exodus 3:13–14): Moses said to God, “When I come to the israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your fathers has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is His name?’ what shall I say to them?” And God said to Moses, “Ehyeh asher ehyeh [I will be what I will be].” The Midrash interprets this to mean: “I will be with them in this trouble, and I will be with them in future troubles.”

Yet this should lead us to ask, where are all the wonders that the Holy One performed for us when He made us His nation? Why do our oppressors abuse us so much in every generation, smiting and slaughtering us, burning and despoiling, while the Holy One seems to stand aloof and observe our afflictions with indifference? Why must all this take place? Where is the promise of the Holy One to Moses in the bush, I will be what I will be? [ . . . ]

But it is necessary to explain that the meaning of the above-mentioned promise was not that the Holy One would Himself always engage in arranging miracles for Israel. As is explained in our sages’ books, the miracles and wonders of alternative laws of nature, in which the Holy One appears in His glory and His very self before the inhabitants of earth, is a poor and lowly thing, attesting to the small-mindedness of that generation, in which there is no one present who is awakened for the zeal of justice, and the power of equity has no influence on the world, to the point that the Holy One is coerced into appearing openly in one fell swoop with a strong hand to break and destroy the oppressor. [ . . . ] But if after all this the people persist in their ignorance, stubbornness, and their imperviousness to pursuing the ideal of justice that is manifested in the miraculous epiphany of the Holy One, and they extol only the divine power and might of the miracles, then there is no point in His manifesting in further miracles. For the Holy One is not an “athlete” displaying his “feats of strength” “before an audience.” Furthermore, it is easily understood that the Holy One’s promise, I will be what I will be does not mean that God Himself will appear every time in new miracles, but rather that in the presence of God’s epiphany He sets an example for future generations, so that the people of Israel will learn from it how to defend themselves in times of trouble. [ . . . ]

Let us return to the matter of freedom, on which people around the world now debate, some praising liberty and some disparaging it. In any such noble inquiry it is incumbent upon us to listen to the view of the Torah, the view of the sublime wisdom.

Indeed, from this holiday we can see vividly that the Torah is in support of the essential matter of “freedom.” The Torah also despises the despotic character of one who exalts himself over another; as evidence, we see that the Torah establishes a major festival [Passover] for the sake of, and for the memory of, freedom. But it remains for us to examine the ways in which freedom is acquired according to the view of the Torah.

Indeed, on [further] examination, the formulation of the Torah seems at one with the formulation of freedom fighters today; we demonstrated earlier that the epiphany of the redemption from Egypt was intended as an example from God on how Israel should exercise self-defense against their oppressors in every generation. And today’s freedom fighters have a fundamental slogan: “You have to achieve freedom yourself; it is not given to you as charity.” But in practice we see some difference between the manner of “achieving freedom” by the political parties in Europe and the way we achieve it. For example, during the French Revolution, they achieved freedom by erecting barricades and throwing bombs on one despot or another. We, on the other hand, aspire to achieve our freedom through our Seder, by eating matzo and reciting Hallel. Every Jew does this in their own house, in a family group— that is to say, by properly reciting the memory of the freedom of the exodus from Egypt, breathing into our souls the divine flame in memory of God’s loving-kindness and heroic actions. [ . . . ]

Indeed, this feeling, the feeling of opposition to being subjugated under a master who acts with arbitrary authority, is a deep feeling in the human soul. But all the mitzvot in the holy Torah are based on the matter of the exodus from Egypt, the idea of freedom. Also are the reverberations that the Holy One let forth through the world when He descended on Mount Sinai to proclaim: I am the Lord your God who brought you forth from the land of Egypt, from the house of bondage (Exodus 20:2). [ . . . ] It need not be said that all this magnificent clamor and reverberation is only meant to circle around the natural feeling of opposition and rebellion against the slave master. And of necessity, latent in the idea of “freedom” is an even stronger meaning, one that encompasses all the worlds of creation.