This week is the Torah portion Tzav—Tzavas Aaron, “Instruct Aaron.” Rashi immediately says that the opening is a little bit different than the usual opening. Usually, the Torah opens up and says, “Vayidaber Hashem el Moshe leimor,” “Hashem speaks to Moshe for him to say,” and then he should say what he should say, “Zos Toras HaOlah.” But here it opens up, after it says the first line, it says, “Tzav es Aaron v’es banav.” “Tzav” means instruct.
Why is this? Hashem already said, “Speak to them, tell them.” Why does it say “instruct”? So Rashi says that there is an encouragement over here. So the parsha gives us encouragement and gives us a push. “Tzav” means to give a push. And Rashi explains that sometimes we need a push, especially when it comes to a loss—especially when it comes to a financial loss.
At the Beis HaMikdash, they brought various different offerings. Some offerings were entirely burnt on the Mizbe’ach. So the Kohen who did the service ended up getting nothing from the whole deal. He just burnt an offering on the Mizbe’ach; he didn’t even get a piece of meat out of it. He didn’t get any part of it; it was all burnt. A Kohen could sometimes feel, “I worked so hard, I served this person, I did so much for them, and I don’t even get a thank you. You don’t get anything.”
So sometimes the Kohen might get cold feet and say, “Why am I doing this? Who wants to serve in the Beis HaMikdash?” So Rashi says that’s why Hashem is encouraging them, saying, “Tzav.” When you’re dealing with a Korban Shelamim, where you get a portion, it’s easier. But here we always need encouragement.
There is also a tradition that before Pesach, the rabbi gives a Shabbos HaGadol drasha. This Shabbos that comes before Pesach is called Shabbos HaGadol, the “great Shabbos.” Why is it called the great Shabbos? Because there was a great miracle that happened. The Rebbe explains, based on the Shulchan Aruch, that when the Jews tied the lamb to their beds, the Egyptians asked what they were doing, and the Jews told them that Hashem would take them out of Egypt and strike the firstborn. The firstborn then pressured the Egyptians to let the Jews go, and when they refused, they fought among themselves.
The verse in Tehillim says, “L’makeh Mitzrayim bivchoreihem”—that the Egyptians were struck through their firstborn. But the question is: what makes this such a great miracle? It didn’t yet bring any practical result for the Jews. They still weren’t freed.
The Rebbe explains that this showed that the process had already begun. The Egyptians themselves were starting to push for the Jewish people’s freedom. Even though it didn’t immediately free them, it was the beginning of the transformation that would lead to redemption.
But the main point is the drasha. What does the rabbi speak about on Shabbos HaGadol? The Alter Rebbe writes in the Shulchan Aruch HaRav that there are two things: first, you teach the halachos—what to do for Pesach; and second, you teach the derech, the path they should follow.
What is this “path”? The Rebbe explains a fundamental idea. There is a long-standing discussion: what is more important, the act of the mitzvah or the feeling behind it? If a person has great feelings but does not act, they have not fulfilled the mitzvah. If they act without feeling, they have fulfilled it. The purpose of mitzvos is to refine the physical world through action.
But on the other hand, if a person does mitzvos without feeling, eventually they will stop. Without inspiration, without excitement, it becomes dry, and other interests will take over. A person needs chayus, vitality, in their Yiddishkeit.
That is the “path.” The mitzvah is the destination, but the inspiration is the road that gets you there. The rabbi must give both: the halacha and the path—the warmth, the joy, the excitement that leads people to actually do the mitzvos.
There is a story of the Alter Rebbe, who once visited a shul where the people davened quickly and spoke during davening. When he left, he said, “This shul is full of prayers.” His followers were surprised, but he explained that without kavana—without love and awe—the prayers don’t rise; they remain stuck. The shul was full of prayers because they never went up.
Pesach is a time of renewal, a time of freedom. It is a time to become inspired—to feel the privilege of being able to do mitzvos, to sit at the Seder, to eat matzah, to drink wine, and to relive the redemption.
We say, “L’shana haba’ah b’Yerushalayim.” The Rebbe explains that we go immediately, but the next year’s celebration will already be in Yerushalayim. Now we can say “this year in Yerushalayim,” because we have not yet celebrated.
In the Chabad Haggadah, we do not say “Chasal Seder Pesach,” because the Seder never really ends. The inspiration of Pesach must continue throughout the year.
Hashem should help us all to be truly free—not only physically, but internally—to live with strength, joy, and inspiration, and to serve Hashem with both action and vitality.