Derasha
As we sum up the journey of the Chag, the relationship between Pesach and Shabbat gives a fruitful angle.
On all Yomim Tovim, there are restrictions almost but not quite like Shabbat. The exceptions are cooking food, which is mentioned in a verse, and carrying. In the verses we read last Shabbat in Parashat Emor, the Torah subtly indicates this distinction between Yom Tov and Shabbat. For Yomim Tovim, the Torah forbids what is called “Kol Melechet Avoda” and for Shabbat it says just “Kol Melacha.” “Melechet Avoda” refers to creative labor outside of the house, or productive labor. But “all Melacha” -- without the word “Avoda” -- refers to all creative labor of every type. The only exceptional Yom Tov in Parashat Emor is Yom Kippur, where the Torah says “Kol Melacha.” That of course makes sense, because Yom Kippur is exactly like Shabbat in its restrictions on creative labor.
But there is another exception to this -- two in fact. They don’t appear like exceptions in Parashat Emor -- where they are treated like every other Yom Tov -- but they do appear like this when they are introduced in Shemot. When the Torah introduces Pesach in Parashat Bo, it calls the first day and the last day “Mikra Kodesh,” holy gatherings. And then it introduces the restrictions with the same language as Shabbat -- “Kol Melacha Lo Tai’ase.” In fact, because it sounds so restrictive, the verse has to go on and elaborate the exception about food -- “Ach Asher Ya’achel.”
But the extra restrictiveness in the language in Bo is not accidental. The suggestion that Pesach is like Shabbat is intentional. It does not mean that Pesach has the same restrictions as Shabbat. But we do see that there is a thematic resemblance to Shabbat.
Perhaps the most important aspect of resemblance comes in the distinction between something that comes entirely from above, as pure Chesed from Hashem, and something that comes from below, requiring human initiative. We know that Shabbat is a day that is a gift from above. It was there from the first seven days and is part of the furniture of Creation, like the Sun and the seasons. We must maneuver around it, and not the other way around. Its restrictions are there as a fact of life, without any concessions to human needs. There is of course Pikuach Nefesh, the saving of a life, but even then one of the languages used by the Talmud is to save a life so that one can live to see another Shabbat.
Any holiday that is strictly a Chesed from above is therefore like Shabbat, and that is why Pesach is referred to as Shabbat. It is also why the language of restriction -- Kol Melacha -- is the same as Shabbat. Pesach is a gift from Hashem, and that applies to Shvi’i shel Pesach as well. Even with Nachshon’s foot in the water, the splitting of the Sea is a gift from above.
This is a crucial connection to Shabbat. But there is another way that Pesach connects to Shabbat in how it tries to mold our sense of who we are as a people. We pointed out a few months ago that there is a lot of the verb Shomer/Shmira when it comes to Pesach.
U’Shmartem et HaAvoda Hazot (12:25) -- Guard this divine service.
Shmartem et HaMatzot (12:17) -- Guard the Matzot.
Chag HaMatzos Tishmor (34:18) -- Guard the holiday of Matza
Shmor et Chodesh HaAviv (Devarim, 16:1) -- Guard the month of the Spring
The same thing can be seen in reference to Shabbat:
Shmor et Yom Hashabat (Devarim, 5:11) -- Guard the Sabbath day
Et Shabtotai Tishmaru (Vayikra 19:30) -- Guard my Sabbath
Shmartem et HaShabbat (Shemot 31:14) -- Guard the Sabbath
V’shamru Bnei Yisrael et HaShabbat (Shemot, 31:16) -- The sons of Israel will keep the Sabbath.
The Gemora says that the verb “Sh’mor” is one of the words which denote negative commandments. The reason the word dominates in terms of Shabbat and Pesach is because both of them are characterized by restraint. It is another of the aspects that they have in common.
Take a look at the basic categories of commandments -- negative commandments, positive commandments, and acts of worship (Avoda). Negative commandments are usually considered in some way inferior because they have no activity. But they have an advantage too. We are humans, so we not only do things but we can also think. We can intend to do the right thing in addition to doing the right thing. That is true in both positive and negative commandments. But the main thing in a positive commandment is the act. In a negative commandment, one gets no credit for simply refraining. A person who hates meat anyway gets no credit for not eating Treif meat. The credit comes because there was intention -- they had a hankering for Treif meat but they did not give in to it.
So the defining characteristic of a negative command is all about the intention. We want people to be involved with both heart and mind, in addition to their bodies. This is crucial to both Pesach and Shabbat.
Let’s take it a little further. We have positive commandments, which involve activity. We have negative commandments, which require thought and intention. What do we have when we have BOTH activity and intention? Surely, we have a positive commandment which is done the way it is supposed to be done. But that turns it into something else too. We have what we call Avoda. Avoda is described in the Sh’ma as involving one’s heart and one’s mind. The Gemora in Taanit says that the best example of “Avoda” is Tefilla. Some object to that Gemora: “What about where the Torah tells one to love Hashem, or to fear Him or to cleave to Him? Is that not done with one’s heart?“ But the Gemora has chosen Tefilla because it has an act AND it has heart and intention. That makes it a full act of worship.
This is in fact the layer of Pesach which goes beyond Shabbat. The central positive act on Pesach is the Pesach offering. Alone among all of the offerings of the Torah, the Pesach offering is called “Avoda.” The Torah says, “V’avadta et ha-avoda hazot b’chodesh hazeh” [You will perform this act of worship in this month] and “Mah Havoda Hazot l’chem?”[What is this act of worship to you?] Both of these verses refer to the Pesach offering.
The need for this kind of act was to make sure that we emerged from Egypt not as wild animals yearning to run free. It wants to make sure we leave as “Avodim,” dedicated in both activity and in spirit.
This framework helps explain what is happening on the first day of Pesach. But what about today, what about this last day? Why are the restrictions here also spoken of like Shabbat? It cannot be a matter of reminding us AGAIN about what was established on day one. It’s a gift like the first day but it has to be at least slightly different too. We have moved beyond the initial stage; day seven is different from day one. They share something -- it’s still called Pesach, and we could not have a seventh day of Pesach without a first day. Whatever happens on Day 7 needs day one to happen. But there has to be some further stage happening today.
The difference is that day one was an act of worship offered by a servant. Day Seven, going through the Sea, turned us into Hashem’s children. Throughout the liturgy, we hear about these two roles all of the time. Avinu and Malkeinu, we say -- our father, our king. We are both children and servants, one role created on the first day of Pesach and the other on the seventh day. In the blessing we say after the Sh’ma at night, we say that Hashem maneuvered “Banav,” His children, between the sides of the Sea. And we respond, “Zeh Keili V’anvehu” [this is my G-d and I will imitate Him], which is what a child wants to do: to imitate the parent at his or her best.
Both the first day and the last day are gifts from above, like Shabbat, but they define our relationship to the Giver of the gifts. A servant has some closeness, but a child has more. Now that the nation emerges from the birth canal with both roles, the march toward Har Sinai can begin.
