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Shiur · Rav Mordechai Burg

Pesach - Restoring Dignity and Responsibility

Mar 27, 202541 minTranscript
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In this shiur, delivered in Tomer Devorah, Rav Burg explains why Hashem wanted Klal Yisrael to avoid the Pelishtim as they left Mitzrayim, why the first Mitzvah Klal Yisrael received was freeing slaves and why on the precipice of entering Eretz Yisrael, Moshe Rabbeinu reminds Klal Yisrael of the fears they experienced when they left Mitzrayim. To be a slave in Mitzrayim means to lose all sense of dignity and agency over one's life. The process of taking Klal Yisrael out of Mitzrayim is restoring their dignity and giving them a sense of responsibility for their lives.

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Automatic transcript; may contain mistakes, especially in Hebrew.

So normally we have a parsha shir, but because this is our last year before Pesach, we'll do a Pesach shir. I see there's already a bunch of haagadas on the table, so we'll do a pre-Pesach shir. If you take a look in the first marumakum brought to you by ChatGPT So you'll see that Hashem made a decision not to take Bnei Yisrael into Eretz Yisrael directly. It's sometimes if you look at a map Mitzrayim and Eretz Yisrael are right next to each other. That's not a 40-year journey to get from Mitzrayim to Eretz Yisrael. People go from Eretz Yisrael to Mitzrayim all the time. In fact, for many years until we had peace with Mitzrayim, there were wars. They are neighbors. To get from Mitzrayim to Eretz Yisrael is really not that big a deal. And yet, Hakadosh Baruch Hu makes a decision. Not to take from Eretz Yisrael into Eretz Yisrael via the most direct route, and there's a fascinating reason why.

It says, "Vehehib shalach Paro es ha'am, velo Nacham alokim derech Eretz Plishtim ki karofu ki amar alokim p'eni nacheim ha'am berosam molchamav shavumitz raima." When Paro sent the people, Hashem did not lead them by the way of the land of the Plishtim. Why? Because it was near, and Hashem said, 'Perhaps the people will reconsider when they see a war.' And they'll return to Egypt. In other words, what was Hakadosh Baruch Hu afraid of? Hakadosh Baruch Hu was afraid just that time of year. Hakadosh Baruch Hu was afraid that Klal Yisrael is going to see the Plishtim. There's going to be a war between Klal Yisrael and the Plishtim, and what's going to happen? They're going to turn around and they're going to run right back into Mitzrayim. There's a couple of questions over here though that are important for us to unpack. The first question is: It seems like a big lack of emuna to just run back to Mitzrayim.

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And if anything, what has Klal Yisrael experienced over the course of the last year of their lives? They experienced all the makos. They hadn't yet experienced Krias Yamsuf. They experienced all the makos, and they were already willing to follow Hakadosh Baruch Hu into a barren desert. I don't think that we really understand a desert. Because first of all, for many of us, I don't think any of us here grew up in deserts. Israelis grew up closer, but unless you're from this country, if you're from the five towns, you do not know what a desert is. A desert is a very scary place. When we're on a tayul here, and you're driving through a desert. Did you go to Eilat this year? So you know, when you're just driving, and at some point you look out the window for like 45 minutes, and there's nothing. There's always that conversation of if. If all of Klal Yisrael would make Aliyah, where would we live? There's plenty of space. Just drive to Eilat. There's plenty of space. There's plenty of places to live.

The what was that? To Eilat is still Israel. There's like from Eretz Yisrael to Eilat is a ton of space, empty land. When you go there, imagine traveling by horse, camel or mule. You're going through a desert with nothing to eat. You have nothing to drink. Whatever you have, that's it. At night when you make camp, what are you afraid of? Snakes, scorpions. I remember. Again, depending on what desert you're in. Oh my, right? The desert is a very hazardous place. So it's a very strange thing that Klal Yisrael is willing to follow Hakadosh Baruch Hu into a barren desert that's very dangerous, and yet they're not willing to do what? They're not willing to face the Plishdim. Hakadosh Baruch Hu is with them. What happened to their amunah? And Hakadosh Baruch Hu is like, we can't take them that way. That's too scary for them. We can't take them. So that's our first question. The second question is an even bigger question.

By avoiding going straight into Eretz Yisrael because of the Plishdim, what ended up happening to them? They got stuck by the Yam Suf, and who attacked them? A much mightier army than the Plishdim. The Mitzrim was the superpower of the world. Even if you want to say that the Plish that the Mitzrim were decimated by the Makos So to say, there I get that there was a level where they weren't the same army anymore. But certainly, this was a very mighty army. And as we witnessed, not Kadosh Baruch Hu needs to have create Yamzov and drown them. This is a very. It seems to be again, you'll forgive me for speaking this way about Hashem. It seems like a very poor strategy. You avoided one war, you created at least another war, maybe even a much bigger war. So that's our second question. Our second question is, why is Hashem so concerned about the war with the Plishtim?

But he's not concerned about the war with the Midrashim? And of course, we see Hashem's assessment correct? Take a look in your next Marom Alcum. What does it say? Is it because there weren't enough graves in Egypt that you took us out to die in the wilderness? Halo zed davar ashatibano elachem Mitzrayim lemar chadal mimenu v'navda es Mitzrayim kitovlanu avodim Mitzrayim imusenu v'midbar. It would be better for us to be slaves in Mitzrayim than to die in the wilderness. So obviously Hakadosh Baruch Hu was right that there's a tremendous fear factor here. But the question is, if they were going to be afraid Mali if they're afraid of the plishtem, mali if they're afraid of the mitzrim. So what was Hakadosh Baruch Hu gaining by having us face the mitzrim and not the Plishtim? So I want to share with you an amazing tirah that I heard from Rav Zwi Yechiel Ita, who's a big Rosh Yeshiva in Florida. He said a really, really unbelievable thing. This is going to be the thesis for the entire Shira tonight. It's really about every one of us.

And Rav Zwi says as follows: There's a difference between a desert and a war. In the desert. Klal Yisrael has no active responsibility. No active responsibility. You can go to a desert and say Hakadosh Baruch Hu is going to give you everything that you need. Baruch Hu is going to give me everything that I need. He's going to give me the ananei akvod. He's going to give me the fire. He's going to give me the man. He's going to give me the slav. Klal Yisrael had their laundry done for them in the ananei akvod. As the Magid says All of their needs were taken care of. There's certainly a tremendous amount of emuna that it takes to go into the desert. However, it's what we couldn't call passive emuna. What does it mean, passive emuna? Passive emuna means I'm willing to give over my life to somebody else.

And that takes a tremendous amount of faith. It does not require any active responsibility. That's very different. Than what it means to be at war. It's very different than what it means to be at war. In war, a person also has to have emuna. But the emuna of war does not mean that we sit there and the Hakadosh Baruch Hu fights for us. That's not the emuna of war. The emuna of war is you have to be willing to put your life on the line and say whatever happens, happens. That's the emuna of war. I go out, I put a gun in my hands. I go out to battle. I have emuna in Hashem that everything will be as it's meant to be. But I'm not just giving it over to Hashem. The emuna of war is that I'm an active participant in this emuna.

I'm doing something. It's not okay. Imagine a soldier walks into Gaza and he has no gun, and he's walking in. There's a bunch of Hamas terrorists in front of him, and he says, 'No, Kadosh Baruch Hu is going to smite them.' That's not the way war works. The way war works is you have a gun. You're a part of the process of that emuna. What's the difference between passive emunah and active emunah? And I want to make it relevant to us right now in this moment. The difference between passive emunah and active emunah is: Do you have a sense of dignity? This is something that's super important for us to talk about in today's day and age. When we raise children that they have no sense of self When we do everything for our children, have faith in us. Say, "Mommy and Daddy are going to give me everything" But what do they not have?

They don't have a sense I am a capable person. That is one of the gravest mistakes that we can make as parents. As parents, giving our children everything might be crippling. Because even though you've prevented your child from experiencing any pain, you've also cut your children's legs off. Because they have no ability to negotiate the world, they have no sense of dignity. They don't know how to show up, take responsibility, and make something happen. It's a very, very dangerous chinuch move. I heard from a psychologist once this brilliant line. He said, "Don't stop children from skateboarding when they jump on the rails. You ever see kids that like skateboarding? There's the stairs and then there's the rails that go down. You ever see kids that like jump on the rails and they like?" So there's all these fail videos. You ever see these fail videos? Happens to be in my wife's family. Certain family, every family has different humor. In my wife's family, physical pain is the funniest thing. There's certain people that love this. They just love watching people smash into walls and jump down the stairs and hit the top of the stairs and flip over backwards. There's certain people that love that. Some people watch that and they're like, why is that funny? I'm much more in the why is that funny camp. My wife's family is in the much more like that's hysterical camp.

So we watch these videos of these kids. Some make it down and it's very cool. Some have the most unbelievable fails where you're like, that must have really hurt, right? I saw a comedian who said once a very good line. He said, 'There's only two positions in snowboarding: really cool and dead.' Those are the only two positions. It's very cool until you're not at all in a cool place. This psychologist had a great line. He said, "Don't stop children from skateboarding on the rails." Because kids who do that, you know what they learn? They learn that they're capable of doing things. I know it sounds like a trite thing, like that's what it means, capable. When you have a boy who's riding his bike or he's learning how to rollerblade, there's a dignity that comes with that. Kalvachomer when it comes to important things. A child who, for example, is able to read a pasuk in Chumash.

I know that again. I'm going to say some things and not be so politically correct. It's been a mess for me already. The boys in vaseret are done. I'm mishochurar, so who knows what's going to come out of my mouth tonight? It's nine o'clock at night. My ADHD kicked in like three hours ago. The voice in my head that's saying don't do it is much quieter than the voice that's saying say it. I want to say with you a not nice thing. Something that happens in our chenuch system today, which is debilitating to children. We just move them on up, move them through the grades. It's a crazy thing that we're doing. If a girl cannot read a pasuk in chumash, or a boy cannot read a pasuk in chumash, a mishnah, a block gemara, if they don't know how to read, you should know there's no dignity that comes with that. And what we do is we move them along in the system. Basically, what we're teaching kids is we don't think you're very capable, so we just move you on through the system.

Children require accountability. We say you can do hard things. We have a generation of kids. It's a crazy thing. We have a generation of girls that don't know how to open up a pasuk and chumash. Look at a Rashi. Look at a Ramban. Look at a Svarno. Look at a Malbim. It's a wild thing. We put again. I know source sheets. I have to give a disclaimer beforehand. Nobody should have trauma from the source sheets. It used to be that there was a thing. I don't know if we have it here in Talmud Torah, but it used to be there was a thing that seminaries had that there was time where girls would prepare And there wouldn't be source sheets. You would have your svarem, and you would look around, and that's how you were meant to learn. There's something dignifying about being capable of not just having emuna. Again, I'm not being mezazel in emuna, chas v'shalom, but there's emuna that's passive. There's emuna that I've given my life over to God. And there's an emuna that comes with an ethic of responsibility.

I'm giving my life over to Hashem, but I am an active participant in building this world. That is a super important distinction, girls. I want you to know a slave is the worst thing. We're not talking about Jewish slaves now. I'm talking about being a slave in Mitzrayim is the worst thing you could possibly imagine. Much worse than being killed. Much worse than being killed. If you had a choice between being a slave in Mitzrayim and death, you would choose death every day of the week. The reason, though, is a little unexpected. It's not because being a slave in Mitzrayim was torture. It's much worse than that. To be a slave in Mitzrayim means you have no sense of self. We don't understand Mitzrayim at all. Girls, think about the Holocaust. The worst day of the Holocaust was still a thousand times better than what was happening in Eretz Yisrael. When you read the midrashim of what was happening in Eretz Yisrael, the level of pain that these people experienced was astronomical on every level spiritually, emotionally, psychologically, and physically. The pain that they experienced was devastating. The Holocaust was seven years. I'm not minimizing the Holocaust. It was tragic. The Holocaust was seven years. Could you imagine 210 years of the worst day of the Holocaust?

The pain that Klal Yisrael experienced over those 210 years was so debilitating. When we say that Klal Yisroel was on the forty-ninth level of tuma, I think growing up, the way we think of the forty-ninth level of tuma is they must have been doing a lot of idolatry. That's not what the forty-ninth level of tuma means. The forty-ninth level of tuma means that you have no sense of self left. The only thing you have left is that basic shred of dignity that defines every one of us. Just that core essence that cannot be destroyed. And what does the Kabbalah Gadda tell us? Had we been there even a moment longer, we might have even lost that. It's a machlokus. Whether there's a fiftieth level of Tumas machlokus in Kabbalah, we don't need to get into it right now. But the idea that a person could lose their sense of self, that they have no capacity to operate in the world.

It's a real thing. We see this very much in the world of addiction. We see this in the world of addiction. There are people that they are so. These people went through terrible things. But there's a level that a person can get to where they just don't have the ability to wake up in the morning and hold down a job and do things, and that's so unnatural. When you meet people, all people are like this. You meet children; children are naturally curious. When you see two, three, four-year-old children, they're naturally curious. They get up. At some point, a person could go through such trauma that they literally don't have it in them anymore to be a person. This is what Klal Yisrael was going through in Mitzrayim. There was nothing left of our dignity except for that last basic core essence, that shred, that thread of fundamental, essential godliness that none of us can lose. That's the only thing that was left.

Says Hashem Baruch Hu If we take them out and they have to fight the Plishtim, what will happen? They have no capacity. They will run. They will be terrified. Why? They don't have the capacity to take up arms and fight for themselves. That's a wild thing. Could you imagine somebody coming to kill you? What's our natural response? Fight or flight, right? You have a very serious answer to that question. Kol hakavod to you. For some people, it's fight. For some people, it's flight. But could you imagine if the response was, "I don't care." Just kill me. None of us can understand that. Baruch Hashem. I hope. Because to get to that level means you have nothing left. Hakadosh Baruch Hu says, I cannot take these people out of Mitzrayim to face the Plishkin. They're gonna look, take one look at the Plishkin. What's gonna happen?

They're gonna say, I regret leaving. I gotta go back. I'd rather be a slave than be a fighter. Why would anyone rather be a slave than be a fighter? Because a slave is at least safe, even though you have no dignity. A slave is safer. Than actually having to take responsibility for your lives. There's a movie. It doesn't matter. And it's not an appropriate movie either. But it was a great movie back in the day. I'm not going to tell you which movie. I'm not saying Ravarz knows what movie it was, but for sure he knows what movie it was. But there's a movie where it talks about a person who was in jail, and he said, 'These walls are funny.' In the beginning, which movie? You're not supposed to say that loud. These walls are funny in the beginning. They close in on you. At some point, you become accustomed. Then, at some point, you can't leave them. You become institutionalized.

We become institutionalized from red, right? You become institutionalized from being a slave because you say it's the safety of I can't do anything with my life anyway. Just tell me what to do and I'll do it. It's the scariest thing in the world. Every human being is meant to be. Adventurous. Every human being is meant to be out there and taking responsibility for their lives. It's a crazy thing that happens when we rob people of that. That's why it's so dangerous. It's so dangerous to communicate to children over and over again. You're not capable because you know what you'll teach kids. If you, there's a line. Children are not very good at listening to their parents, but they're awesome at imitating them. You ever hear that line? So kids are not very good at listening. But parents who like live this thing that you're not capable. You know what ends up happening?

They raise kids that are not capable. That's a tragic message. When school systems are just willing to keep pushing girls through, and then girls, and you know yourself, every guy in yeshiva tells me this when they're interviewing for yeshiva. What do you want? I want to be able to open up a gemara and read it. Why? Because they care about gemara so much. Because none of us like to feel foolish. None of us wants to be able to open up and learn. If there's dignity, we want to be able to take responsibility for our own learning. If everything gets spoon fed to you, what do you learn? If you never have to do hard things in your life, what do you learn? There was a very inspiring. I know it's going to sound funny. Somebody sent me a video a year or two ago. Somebody sent me a video of a contestant on Master Chef. Master Chef is with Gordon Ramsay, the nasty chef.

He said this contestant. It was an amazing thing. He has a line with his children. We can do hard things. And when he was auditioning, I guess they have to give in like a dish to make it on the show. His son wrote him a letter and he showed it to the cameras. His son wrote him a letter, Dad. We can do hard things. That's such an awesome lesson to teach people. Claudio was so broken. We can't do hard things. We can't face the plishdim. I, you're going to have to face the Mitzrim. Hakadosh Baruch Hu says, no. I'll fight the battle of the Mitzrim. That's part of Yisces Mitzrayim. Is it a harder battle? Is it a terrifying battle? But it's not a battle that Klal Yisrael fights for. They're not part of it. That's what the pasuk says. It's on your Mar Makomos. I believe. I don't think it's on mine. Shmos 14: 14. Did I put it on? Yeah.

Maybe it's just on my. I got it here on the bottom. Hashem yilachem lechem vaatem tacharishon. What does Moshe Rabbeinu say? Hakadosh Baruch Hu is going to fight the battle of Mitzrayim. What's your job? Just be quiet. Meaning you're not ready to fight. That's part of Yishtiyat Mitzrayim. You're not ready to fight the battle of Plishtim. That's already a post Mitzrayim experience. So that would be on Klal Yisrael to fight. Hashem says, I know you're not ready to fight. I'll handle the Mitzrayim. They're a mightier army. Don't worry. I'll handle the Mitzrayim. You guys stay silent. That's where they were at. However, Cesare Zwiag, and this is an amazing Torah There is a cost. There is a cost that comes with Hashem fighting your battles. The cost is that you don't get to go into Eretz Yisrael. You have to spend 40 years in the desert. Your generation has to die out. You do not get to go into Eretz Yisrael. Why not? He says as follows: Number one, going into Eretz Yisrael means taking responsibility for your own destiny.

It's a willingness to fight for what's rightfully yours, and here's the big one: there's vulnerability. It means you're accepting potential losses. Most of us, if we're being honest Most of us don't fight battles. We don't take responsibility for our lives because we're not okay with the potential negative outcome. That's a big deal. You can't show up to a date if you're not willing to be broken up with. You can't get married if you're not willing to have a fight with your husband and to be able to stay engaged. Life takes losses. Says Ruvzwi, "You want to go into Eretz Yisrael? There's a price to be paid." Eretz Yisrael means risk. It's not easy to come to Eretz Yisrael. Ask anybody who's made aliyah. Everybody has their aliyah horror stories. Eretz Yisrael's nickname is Beisurin. Eretz Yisrael is only acquired with pain and suffering. Everybody who's moved to this country, and again, it's an amazing country to move to. I bless you all that you should be able to move here.

That doesn't get as loud in Amein as Shaduchim. That's interesting. We could do a sociological study on why not. I probably don't want to know the answer to that question, even though I think I do. Everybody has their horror stories, and again, I'm not going to get into the details of ours. I'll just tell you one amazing part of ours. My wife had to come to Eretz Yisrael when we were still living in America. We bought a house here on paper. They called us up and they said, 'You need to come right now to build your kitchen. You need to design your kitchen right now.' We were Americans. We didn't know how to tell Israelis. We thought we had to. My wife got on a plane. She came to Eretz Yisrael. She designed the kitchen. My house wasn't built until two years after we made Aliyah. This was like a year and a half before that.

So we came three and a half years early to build the kitchen. When they built the kitchen, it was not the kitchen that we ordered. My wife said, 'This is not the kitchen that we ordered.' The guy said to us, 'Yes, it is. I have your signature on the plans right here.' My wife was exercising. She was always thinking. She said, 'I don't remember signing any plans.' She called up the company. She said, 'Please fax me over. I want to see these plans that I signed on.' So they sent over the plans. My last name is spelled B-U-R-G. They spelled her name, Eliza B-E-R-G. They forged her signature and spelled it wrong. She called them up. She said, "You clearly forged this." They said, "What? I'm not a graphologist." We're like, "Yeah, you're just a thief. You just forged it." Everybody has their crazy alias stories.

To come to this country is vulnerable. You had a siren this afternoon. You don't have sirens in Tynec. You don't have sirens in the Five Towns. Not those types of sirens, anyway. I just meant like you have the Hatzalah, like the lights that are also car sirens. Sirens, car sirens, the Hatzalah sound like sirens. There's something very vulnerable about living in this country. To live in this country, you need to be a human being. If you're not a human being, you can't live here. If you're a passive person, you can't live in this country. There are people. I hope you don't marry guys like this. There are people that are passive in life and they chalk it up to emuna. They say, "I'm a big maimen." Emuna at one level means I've given over my life to Hashem. That's an amazing level to live at.

There's a much higher level of emuna where I've given over my life to Hashem. But I take active responsibility as part of that emuna. And that's what it means to be a human being. That's what it means to be a mensch. That's what it means to be a wife. That's what it means to be a mother. That's what it means to be a husband. That's what it means to be a father. It's what it means to be an employee. You have to be able to be relied upon in your life. The process of leaving Mitzrayim was not a process, as we'll see in a moment. It was not just a process of taking a Jew out of Egypt. It was restoring a basic level of dignity to a people that had been robbed of their capacity to show up to life. That's a huge title. If we learn nothing else tonight, that's one of the biggest things that anyone can ever teach you. You are capable of showing up to life.

If you take a look in the next mar makom It's an unbelievable thing. There's Yerushalmi. Everyone knows what was the first mitzvah that Klal Yisrael got in Mitzrayim. Rishlodes says the Yerushalmi. It's not true. It's Yerushalmi. Yerushalmi says there was a mitzvah that came before that. If you look at the pasuk, it says Hashem spoke to Moshe and Aaron. The Yitzaveim el Bnei Yisrael, and He commanded Bnei Yisrael and Paro, the king of Egypt, to take all Yisrael out of Mitzrayim. Girls, what's the obvious question? He commanded Paro to take them out. That makes sense because Paro was the one enslaving us. It says the Yitzaveim el Bnei Yisrael. He commanded. Klal Yisrael were the slaves. We weren't in charge of whether or not we went free. Yerushalmi in Rashi Shana says an unbelievable thing. There was a mitzvah that Klal Yisrael got even before Kiddush Hashadosh. The mitzvah was free your slaves.

What's the obvious question? They didn't have slaves. They didn't have slaves. A slave doesn't own a slave. So there's a commandment that Klal Yisrael gets. It's according to the Yerushalmi, it's the first commandment that they got. Free your slaves. It wasn't relevant. When did Klal Yisrael finally get Avodim? Not until they came into Eretz Yisrael. There were no slaves in the Midbar. How could there be slaves in the Midbar? There were no slaves in the Midbar. So why would Hakadosh Baruch Hu make it that the first commandment that Klal Yisrael gets is to free their slaves? It doesn't make any sense. It's not relevant. It won't be relevant for another 40 years. Why is this the first mitzvah? There's an unbelievable tirya here. You know the phrase 'hurt people.' Why do they do that? Hurt people, because if you've been abused You're powerless. If a kid is bullied, he feels powerless.

And you know what he feels when he bullies somebody else? He doesn't feel powerless. The power that he holds over another gives him a feeling of like I'm not a loser. I'm not a bullied kid either, Abba. I'm the bully. So hurt people. It's a way for them, distorted as it is, of not having to suffer anymore. It's like you can't hurt me; I'm powerful now. I can hurt somebody else. The first mitzvah that Hashem gives to Klal Yisrael is He says as follows: He says, 'I know that you've been robbed of your dignity. I know that for 210 years you had every shred of dignity taken away from you. Therefore, you're in danger. What's the danger? You were hurt people' So you have to make sure not to become hurt people who hurt people. So the very first mitzvah that Hashem gives them is: if you have slaves, let them go.

Let them go. Don't do this to somebody else just because it happened to you. But there's something very profound. If you're listening carefully, there's something very profound in that message. The profundity of that message is: I hope you're hearing this well. The profundity of that message is, who can let slaves go? People who have dignity. It's like, we tell a niem, we tell people that don't have money to give tzedakah. Why? If you don't have money, why should you give tzedakah? The answer is, you should give tzedakah. Why should you give tzedakah? You just got tzedakah. Why are you giving tzedakah if you just got tzedakah? You give tzedakah, you're a mensh. The ability to give to somebody else, you're alive. You're a human being. When you reach into your pocket and you say, 'You need? I have here.' There's an unbelievable self that exists in that moment. There's presence. There's a real person. I have something to give to somebody else.

I notice the difference between seminaries and yeshivas. I came for a Shabbos last year to Talmud Torah. I noticed the difference between seminaries and yeshivas. When guys give a dvar Torah at the end of the dvar Torah, he sits down and guys go, 'Good job, man.' That's like the whole thing. When girls give a dvar Torah, it's like the whole seminary has to get up and hug them. And every teacher, it's like a celebration of life. I feel like it's like one of these, you know, like bar mitzvahs, bat mitzvahs, where everyone is dancing with the bat mitzvah girl in the middle. Why is it such a big deal? Why do we like to encourage people to get up at a Shabbos table here in Tomer Devora and give a dvar Torah? You know what the answer is. And by the way, again, I'm going to say something you're not going to like, but I think it's a good idea to say.

If what you did was you just went to H. Dot com or Chabad. Dot org and you printed a Tefillah Torah and you read it, there's not that much dignity there. You didn't have an idea, you didn't think of anything for yourself. A girl who actually says I want to research something, I want to put something together, I have what to contribute. At the end, when she gives it over, she feels amazing about herself. There's something very real about that. And that's when it's really worthwhile to get up and say, 'Really, you did an amazing job.' I was very inspired. A girl last night in Berberium told me, 'She said ever since the beginning of the year, she's really started to enjoy Parsha.' She's put together every single week a Dvar Torah that she wrote. That's your friend. She's an amazing person. She wrote a Sefer this year. She wrote a Sefer. It's not an exaggeration. She wrote a Sefer this year. She came to me last night. She's printing the Sefer. She wants. She said, "I want you to see the Sefer." I said. I can't wait to share one of your tiras.

It's amazing. Don't do that. We don't have to be seminary girls for a minute. The no, it's something amazing about that. There's a girl who said it's not lo b'shamayim. This is not just chabad.org or ish.com. And I'm gonna read off whatever article was written by whatever person. I have something in my brain to say. I'm a person who's capable of contributing. If you have a slave and you're a person of dignity, you know what you do. And this like this not a life, man. Go live a life. That's a person of dignity can give their life to somebody else. Kaviyachal. Obviously, I don't mean it this way in any sense of the word. But do you remember the movie Aladdin? You at the end, your third wish is to set the genie free.

There's something about that at the end when you have one wish left and you say, I don't need to be a prince. I don't need to be something that I'm not. I'm comfortable being who I am. I can set the genie free, go have a life. It's not a life to live in a little lamp. That's not a way of living your life. The first mitzvah that Hashem gives Klal Yisrael is, you have enough dignity to let others go. It's how you restore us to our basic peoplehood. It's how you prepare us to ultimately be people who could fight a war, who could go to Eretz Yisrael. Which brings me to the last point here, and this is the biggest one. As Klal Yisrael is about to enter into Eretz Yisrael, listen what Moshe Rabenu says. I think it's your last Ma'ariv. It's the last one. Perhaps you're going to say in your heart, "These nations are more numerous than us."

How will I be able to drive them out? Girls, what does that sound like? Where did we hear those words before? I'll give you a hint. It was in this year. Where did we hear those words before? That Klal Yisrael is going to be afraid and they're going to run back to Mitzrayim all the way in the beginning by the Plishdim. Moshe Rabbeinu saying, 'Perhaps you're going to say in your heart, 'These people are too numerous.' It's almost exactly what we heard in the very beginning, 40 years earlier, when they were leaving Mitzrayim. What does Moshe Rabbeinu say to them? Lo tirameh Don't be afraid of them. Zocher tiskar es Hashem, Hashem lo kachel l'barul l'chom Mitzrayim. Remember Hashem took care of the Mitzrim, and he killed all of the Egyptian army for you. He's got you. He's behind you. Now there's a couple of questions here that are pretty obvious, but let's just ask the one more basic question.

This is on the precipice of going into Eretz Yisrael. Eretz Yisrael had just won a major battle against Sichon and Og. So imagine you just won a battle. Think of it like I'll use a sports metaphor. I'm a guy, and I don't really know girls' metaphors for these things, but let's say sports metaphor. You have a team that just had a huge victory. Let's say you're a Knicks fan, and the Knicks just beat the best team in the league. They just beat the Oklahoma City Thunder, and now the next game they're playing another great team. They're playing the Boston Celtics. What would the coach say? Guys, you beat the Thunder last night. We could take the Celtics tonight. It would be strange for the coach to get up and say, "Remember, in the beginning of the season when we had a big win" Why are you calling from the big win that we had in the beginning of the season? You just won a big game last night. So why is Moshe Rabbeinu saying, 'Don't remember what Hashem did back in the beginning when we were leaving Mitzrayim? You guys got this. What do you mean we got this? We won last night. Why are you talking about what happened 40 years ago?' There's an amazing answer here, and I think it's going to the heart of everything we're saying.

What's Moshe Rabbeinu saying? He's saying, "I know you're afraid. How do I know you're afraid?" Because you were afraid back then. Girls, fear doesn't disappear. That's not what happens. Courage does not mean the absence of fear. Courage means to face your fears, to feel all of those scary feelings, and then to say, 'I got this.' I can do this. I can do hard things. Moshe Rabbeinu saying. You were afraid when we first left Mitzrayim. You were afraid, but there was a difference between then and now. What was the difference? The difference was forty years in the desert. The difference was that you were a people that were told by Hakadosh Baruch Hu, 'Free your slaves.' Hashem fought your battle for you back then. Back then, he fought your battle. Now you don't need to have Him anymore. In the same way, you can be an active participant. In getting into Eretz Yisrael, it's the only way you could be kona Eretz Yisrael.

I want to share with you just a final thought because it is the last year of the zman. There's a question at the heart of this entire seminary yeshiva experience, coming to Israel for the year. Coming to Israel for the year is not what it was 30 years ago. It's not what it was 40 years ago. It's a totally different experience. When we were in Eretz Yisrael for the year, we didn't have cell phones. Cell phones didn't exist. We certainly didn't have AirPods. We certainly didn't have any of those things. We didn't stay in touch with our parents. Maybe we spoke to our parents every Shabbos. The food that you got from yeshivas and seminaries was minimal, and frankly, the food was not delicious. This was not the same experience at all. The yeshiva and seminary experience today is a much more coddled experience than it was. It used to be that kids came and they came to Israeli yeshivas and Israeli seminaries and they had to learn to take classes in Hebrew and they had to adapt to Israeli society and they brought that back with them when they went back to America. It was transformative because it was so hard.

And today it's not hard at all. It's not hard at all. We've made it much easier. And there's a question that people are asking, and I think it's a reasonable question. Is this experience as valuable as it once was? And I think the answer is still yes. Now I want to share with you why. It's not as hard as it was But it's still challenging. It was hard for you to come this year, even if it was obvious to you, even if it was 13th grade, even if you didn't have to make a decision. What do you mean? We all go to Eretz Yisrael for the year. That's understandable. It's not as hard as it was. But when you got here at the beginning of the year, do you remember that it was hard? Do you remember when you got off the plane and you were like, Did I make the right decision to come to Tomer Devora? Remember when you were very judgmental, looking at everybody else, saying like, I don't know, it's not my, I don't have the girls say it, but the guys were like, I don't know if it's my squad Right? Like, low key, the guys here are not my vibe.

There's a lot of glazing about yeshiva, but it's how we're hyped, like all the words that they have. I have brain rot. I've been hanging out with 18-year-olds all year. But it was hard. It was hard to make friends. It was hard to figure out how to get on the buses. It was hard to go someplace for Shabbos. It was hard to get up and make new friends. There's a lot of vulnerability in the process of coming to Israel. What you gained from this year Might, and this might be a radical thing to say, what you gained from this year might not be any of the shirum that you heard. Maybe in 20 years from now you'll remember. Maybe you won't. But one thing for sure. There's muscle memory that you have of things that you learned this year. That you're capable That you never knew. How do I get on that bus to get to that place for Shabbos? How do I make sure that I have food? Where can I get things?

You were people who, again, not anybody's fault, but society today is very coddled. And even as coddled as you were here in Tomer Devora Most of you probably learned hard things this year. You see the boys in the beginning of the year. I don't know how it is for the girls, but you see the boys in the beginning of the year, and there are boys that are standing there with their laundry bags, and they're standing in front of a washing machine, going like I know the clothes go in the hole, but I don't know what happens after that. Warm, cold, hot, cold. What are these settings? They don't know the settings. You just tell them to do cold. It's okay. If you just do cold, it'll be right. Guy's like I don't know, Rabbi. This doesn't feel the same as at home. I'm like, yeah.

You're gonna have to learn how to do your laundry. There's a guy this year in yeshiva. I was very upset to hear this. I'm happy for the guy, but I was upset for the guy that did it. This guy in yeshiva this year knew how to do his own laundry. Baruch Hashem, he came from a home where his mother taught him to do his own laundry. So he knew how to do laundry. There was another guy in yeshiva that didn't know how to do laundry. Instead, he paid this other guy to do his laundry. So chaval. So Chaval, no, not smart all. I want to tell you why. Because maybe he'll say, "Listen, I spent 500 shekels over the course of the year having somebody do my laundry. It's no big deal, 500 shekel. I'd be happy not to have to deal with it." He doesn't know how to do his laundry. And it's not just his laundry. I know the guy that's paying him. It's not just his laundry. You teach yourself learned helplessness. You say, "I'm not a capable person." The biggest gift you got this year, and I hope that every one of you takes the opportunity to say thank you to your parents. Over Ben Azmanim. If you're home, you have a responsibility to say thank you to your parents over and over again. This is not as much as it's 13th grade. This is not Muvan Me'Ilav.

This is not obvious on any level. Lots of parents had to sacrifice a tremendous amount to make this happen. And yes, Tzomar Devora gave you a lot. But if you gained anything this year, I hope that the lesson is: I'm a capable person. I'm a person of dignity. I can be there for others. I can place others before myself. I'm not a person living in fear of life. Be'ez Hashem, you'll see this in your life. You'll see that the year that you spent here was transformative, not because of the lessons that you learned, but because of the people that you became. Have a meaningful Pesach.

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