This Shabbos is called Shabbos Hagadol – the great Shabbos. Let us examine how this Shabbos got its name.
The Talmud explains that on the Shabbos before the Jews left Egypt, each Jew took a male lamb and tied it to their bedposts. When the Egyptians saw this, they asked what they were doing. The Jews explained that G-d commanded them through their leader, Moshe, to take a lamb into their homes and inspect the animals to ensure that they are blemish free and suitable to be offered for the Passover sacrifice. They further explained that the sacrifice would be offered in four days – on Wednesday afternoon, and the lamb would be roasted and eaten that night. This infuriated the Egyptians who worshiped the lamb as their deity and always allowed them to roam freely. Miraculously, the Egyptians were unable to harm or stop the Jews.
Thus, the Shabbos before Passover is called the Shabbos Hagadol – the Great Shabbos – commemorating the great miracle that the Jews ignored the Egyptian regulations yet they were not harmed. Although many other miracles occurred in Egypt, particularly this miracle is commemorated because this miracle occurred after the Jews actively listened to the word of G-d and risked their lives by offending the Egyptians. Whereas, with all the other miracles and plagues in Egypt the Jews were mere bystanders.
The question arises, if the Jews in Egypt were instructed to bring the lamb into their homes four days before they sacrificed it, which in that year fell on a Shabbat, why do we commemorate the day of the week that it happened on – Shabbat, rather than the way we usually commemorate events, which is on the day of the month, which in this case would be the 10th day of Nisan?
An answer offered is that we focus on the day of the week to illustrate that the special and holy day of Shabbos charged the Jews with courage to stand up against the Egyptians. Also, it was the holy day that protected them.
Another question raised, is why do we only commemorate Shabbos? Were the Egyptians only annoyed when the Jews took the animals into their homes on Shabbos? Why weren’t they annoyed during the next four days until they offered the lamb?
An answer offered is that human nature set in. After their initial anger towards the action of the Jews, they got used to it and did not complain any further.
We are well aware that human complacency is part of our basic makeup. There are things that at the outset really bug us, but then with time, we just get used to it. It works the same when we slip into bad habits, bad behavior patterns or setting aside religious protocol. At first we are bothered by it, but if we do not address it, it becomes part of us and defines us until it becomes difficult to change.
This week’s Parsha speaks of the purification process of someone who suffered a spiritual based malaise – Tzoraas which came upon him for speaking ill of others or for being stingy. This person was excommunicated from society through the inspection and declaration of a Kohain.
He was excommunicated until the malaise left him. This would come about when the person regretted what he had done and committed himself to change by utilizing his gift of speech to bring people together, to pray, to study and to uplift others, instead of causing dissention, rifts and embarrassment to others.
One purpose of the excommunication was so that the afflicted person would have the time and solitude to make a self-assessment and reevaluate his life and priorities.
Studying the laws pertaining to one who was inflicted with Tzoraas brings us awareness of the value of the spoken word and lets us pause and make an assessment to counteract the horrible tide of the media and social media which seems fixated upon expounding on and even concocting ills and shortcomings of others.
Rabbi Zalman Sorotzkin o.b.m. points out something very interesting. During the purification process of the person who was inflicted with Tzoraas he is required to bring two identical birds. One is slaughtered and the other is set free. Why doesn’t the Torah instruct the drawing of lots to determine the destiny of the birds as the Torah does with the identical sheep during the Yom Kippur service?
Perhaps, the Torah is conveying the following message: Birds chirp all the time. The bird that was slaughtered represents vanquishing bad speech. The bird that was left alive and set free represents good and positive speech.
Deciding what to say and what not to say is not left to the ‘randomness’ of drawing of lots. It requires a personal assessment and consideration, because, “Life and death is in the hand of the spoken word.”
