Mind The Gap
- Rabbi Jeff Fox
- Apr 9
- 7 min read
On the seventh day of Pesach, we will read "Shirat ha-Yam" (the Song of the Sea) marking a joyous celebration within the Exodus. At this high point in our historical narrative, Moshe and Miriam lead the people in song. There is one verse, perhaps even one word, that contains within it multiple meanings that offer an approach to Pesach in particular and halakha more broadly.
Let’s try to unpack this one word from the song and see how it might guide us. Shemot 15:2 reads as follows: “Zeh eli ve’anveihu, elohei avi va’aromimenhu—This is my God and I will glorify Him, the God of my ancestors and I will exalt Him.” I am using “glorify” as a kind of place-holder translation for “ve’anveihu,” a multi-valent Hebrew word that moves in many directions.
In his translation/commentary, Onkelos brings together many of the different threads of commentary we will see below. He explains the word ve’anveihu as, “and I will build for Him a Temple.” Rashi understands that Onkelos is linking the word ve’anveihu to the Hebrew word naveh which appears in Isaiah 33:20 and 65:10 as references to a divine dwelling place—the Temple.
Rav Gedalya Shorr (See Ohr Gedalyahu, Moadim, pg. 130) suggests that Onkelos sees here a microcosm on the individual level of the national attempt to build a house for God. Rav Shorr argues that just as the Jewish People were commanded to build a house in which God can dwell—v’asu li mikdash v’shachanti b’tocham (Exodus 25:8)—each of us must do so in our own homes and our own lives. (For a different approach to these texts, see the Chafetz Chaim’s Chomat ha-Dat chapter 8.)
The core ritual of Pesach, the Seder, takes place in our houses and not (primarily) in our shuls. How can we build homes where we can invite God’s presence and also make space for diverse families and friends who may have very different notions of the divine? For some folks the seder is an opportunity to delve deeply into the winding text of the Haggadah, while for others the evening is mostly about the festive meal. There are so many different values that can pull us in opposing directions in the preparation for and observance of the holiday. How might different approaches to ve’anveihu help us in this complicated moment?
There is often a gap between the lived experience of Jewish life and codified Jewish Law. That gap can develop in different ways. For example, when rabbinical students spend a year learning the laws of kashrut it becomes clear just how stringently we maintain our kitchens. On the other hand, when learning the laws of Shabbat, a gap emerges in the opposite direction, as the lived experience tends to be more lenient than the codified law.
That gap emerges very powerfully every year on Pesach. Some rabbis want to push back against the at-times obsessive desire to rid ourselves of every speck of chametz dust. Others seem to inflame the inherent Jewish urge for stringency in this area and push people even further. How can we as a community find the right balance in this area?
There is a beautiful midrash that appears throughout Rabbinic literature (Mechiltta D’ R. Yishmael, Masechta d’Shira parsha 3, Yerushalmi Peah 1:1 as well as the Bavli Shabbat 133b) that I think can help shed light on this tension. The Rabbis unpack ve’anveihu and can help us to mind this gap. Though it appears in different places with slight variations, I will bring the version from the Bavli for ease of analysis.
This is my God and I will glorify Him (ve’anveihu, Exodus 15:2) —Beautify yourself before God in mitzvot. Make before God a beautiful sukkah, a beautiful lulav, a beautiful shofar, beautiful tzitzit, a beautiful sefer Torah, and write in it God’s name in beautiful ink, with a beautiful quill by an expert scribe, and wrap it in beautiful silk fabric.
Abba Shaul says: ve’anveihu Be similar to God. Just as God is compassionate and merciful, so too should you be compassionate and merciful.
The first opinion of the midrash presents the notion of hiddur mitzvah (beautifying mitzvot). Halakha has an appreciation for aesthetics. It is not the only value that matters to the Rabbis, but it is a factor that is taken seriously by the entire system. We might choose to buy a fancier seder plate and use real dishes and silverware so that we can feel like “free people” on Seder night.
This can also go overboard and encourage people to focus on the wrong aspect of the holiday. It can also lead to competition and a sense that we all have to out-do one another with the fanciest table settings possible. That is not the direction that we are meant to take.
How might we strive for a seder table that really is beautiful without losing sight of our core values? Maybe it means that we decorate the table with silly frogs or projects from school alongside an inherited set of silverware that came from a grandparent. There is beauty in family lore and customs that get passed down from one generation to another. If you are building your own family customs in real time, think carefully about what goes on the table. Is there a kiddush cup that you might save for the seder to make it feel different? Perhaps you invite guests to bring their own family seder plates and build a table that makes room for many different traditions.
Beautifying Pesach might mean covering the countertops, spilling boiling water everywhere, and lovingly wrapping your entire house in aluminum foil. If that was the Pesach of your childhood, lean in to it and love it; just don’t forget that, for others, their special kiddush cup is the fulfillment of ve’anveihu. Everyone should have those areas of halakha and minhag in which they are machmir (more stringent than required by law) and Pesach gives us lots of chances to do just that!
After encouraging the beautification of mitzvot, the midrash then brings us Abba Shaul’s majestic notion that we are meant to walk in God’s ways. This idea lies at the core of religious life. The goal of a life guided by halakha is ultimately to walk in the ways of God. How do we do that? Abba Shaul makes it clear that the divine character traits that we are supposed to emulate are mercy and compassion.
It is interesting to note the traits that Abba Shaul does not mention. The very next verse in Exodus (12:3) says, “God is a man of war.” Despite the juxtaposition of these verses, Abba Shaul chose mercy and compassion from among all the different ways in which the Bible describes God to be at the center of religious life. Sadly and painfully, there are times when we must go to war, but that is never the ultimate goal. Even in the midst of war, we are commanded to walk in God’s ways and hold on to our mercy and compassion.
What do mercy and compassion have to do with Pesach? While beautifying mitzvot and going above and beyond the letter of the law is often praiseworthy, it is important to understand what is actually required and what is the result of relative communal economic wealth. Sometimes poskim forget that the halakha on the books really is much more expansive than we observe in our kitchens. We dare not encourage a reality where financial excess serves as a barrier to entry into our communities.
Telling people that they must have two ovens, two sinks, two countertops, and multiple sets of dishes, pots, pans, silverware, tablecloths, napkins, drinking glasses, kiddush cups is simply incorrect. We need to model for our community the reality that there are multiple correct approaches to the very same set of questions.
There has been talk of late about a perversion of the Rav’s vision of Torah u’Madda as “Torah u’Mamon (money).” This is deeply disappointing and represents a harsh departure from a vision of the Jewish world that ought to be inspiring, deep, and inclusive. Instead we end up in a place in which people can no longer be civil servants and teachers, or accountants and doctors, but must work in the finance and banking industry in order to afford the baseline Modern Orthodox Jewish standard of living.
Mercy and compassion also means understanding the dietary needs of people with celiac and not forcing them to make themselves sick over the chag. It means that for someone who is a vegan, we find room to be lenient on kitniyot so that they can have a well-rounded diet for the eight days of the holiday.
This year I was asked about a child on the autism spectrum, struggling with Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder (ARFID) for whom removing chametz from her diet for eight days could present a potential life threatening risk. It is not easy to structure a home that is fully kosher for Pesach and to find the compassion necessary to allow this young person to eat bread and butter this year.
There is a tension between hiddur (beauty) and rachamim (mercy). Those two can pull in opposing directions. It is in the gap that meaning is generated and where I strive to hear the still small voice of the Divine calling us to redemption.
The homes that we build for God—not only the collective home of the synagogue or the Temple—but the intimate homes where we raise our children, fry our matzah, and communicate our values must be open to all those who enter. This is what Onkelos was trying to teach us by translating ve’anveihu as “build me a Temple.” Yes, we need passion, occasional chumrot, and hiddur. But we must remember that walking together with God—ve’anveihu: ani v’hu—means being machmir on mercy and compassion.
Chag Sameach!
Rabbi Jeffrey S. Fox, Rosh HaYeshiva and Dean of Faculty at Maharat, was the first graduate of Yeshivat Chovevei Torah. Upon graduation he served as the Rabbi of Kehilat Kesher: The Community Synagogue of Tenafly and Englewood for seven years. In Rabbi Fox’s tenure at Kesher, the community grew three-fold from 30 families to nearly 100. During that time Rabbi Fox also taught at Yeshivat Chovevei Torah as well as in the Florence Melton Adult Education School in Bergen County. He also served on the board of the Synagogue Leadership Initiative of the UJA of NNJ. Rabbi Fox was a Senior Rabbinic Fellow of the Shalom Hartman Institute and has also been a member of the faculty of the Drisha Institute, the Florence Melton Adult Education School in Westchester County, and Hadar.