| Dear Yeshiva Family:
This week's Parsha describes the dramatic climax of the Geulah, the moment when HaKadosh Baruch Hu splits the Yam Suf and Klal Yisrael walk through on dry land. What is fascinating is how Chazal frame this event in the Haggadah on the night of Pesach. We are told there that the miracles of Kriyas Yam Suf far surpassed even the miracles of Yetzias Mitzrayim itself. The Haggadah cites a dispute if in Mitzrayim there were ten makkos, then at the sea there were fifty miracles, or if there were forty in Egypt, then there were two hundred at the sea or a third opinion of 50 in Egypt and 250 at the Sea. The numbers vary, but the message is crystal clear. As great and overwhelming as the miracles of the Exodus were, the revelation of Hashem at the Yam Suf was on an entirely different level. The splitting of the sea was a far deeper, more intense display of Divine closeness and power that eclipsed everything that had come before.
In fact, Chazal tell us that the spoils which Klal Yisrael collected at the Yam Suf were even greater than the wealth they took with them when they left Mitzrayim. This is striking. Avraham Avinu had already been promised that his descendants would leave the land of their oppression "with great riches," and indeed, Yetzias Mitzrayim fulfilled that promise in a most dramatic way. The Egyptians showered them with gold, silver, and clothing, and they left with an immense fortune. Yet when they stood by the sea and witnessed the downfall of Mitzrayim, the wealth that now came into their hands surpassed even that. Once again, the pattern repeats itself: Kriyas Yam Suf outshines Yetzias Mitzrayim, not only in the number of miracles, but even in the material blessing that accompanied it. And the question naturally begs to be asked: why is this so? What is it about the splitting of the sea that makes it such a greater moment than the Exodus itself?
Additionally, we can ask why is all of this emphasized specifically on the night of the Seder, when our entire focus is supposed to be on Yetzias Mitzrayim? The Haggadah is meant to retell the story of the Exodus, the makkos, the night when Klal Yisrael actually left Egypt. Kriyas Yam Suf took place seven days later and has its own Yom Tov, the seventh day of Pesach. Why, then, does it intrude, so to speak, into the Haggadah? And even if we understand that it deserves a mention as the completion of the Geulah, why do we go out of our way to stress that it was so much greater, that it far surpassed Yetzias Mitzrayim?
It almost sounds out of place. Imagine standing at a sheva brachos, speaking about the chosson, praising him, describing his maalos (good attributes), and then suddenly saying, "But you should know, his chavrusa is on a whole different level. If this one is good, the other one is truly exceptional." It would feel strange, even inappropriate, to shift the spotlight away from the one being celebrated. So too, if the night of the Seder is the celebration of Yetzias Mitzrayim, why does the Haggadah seem to move the focus to Kriyas Yam Suf, and not only mention it, but emphasize how much greater it was? What is the deeper message in that comparison, and what are Chazal trying to teach us by placing it precisely here?
I once heard a great answer from R' Yisroel Reisman from Torah Vadaas. When a person does only what is required of him, that in itself does not yet prove love. At most it proves responsibility. A chosson who buys his kallah the standard engagement ring, the kind that everyone buys, has not necessarily demonstrated anything extraordinary, even though he just spent an enormous amount of money. He has shown that he knows what is expected. Perhaps the very first person in history who gave such a ring expressed something unique, but once it becomes the norm, it no longer signals special devotion. The same is true in many areas of life. Giving the standard tip at a restaurant shows basic decency and awareness of custom, but it does not yet reveal deep appreciation.
Only when someone goes beyond what is expected, when he adds something unnecessary yet thoughtful, does he show that he is acting from a place of real appreciation and not merely because this is the custom. It turns out then that a five dollar gift bought 'just because' does a lot more than show a spark of love, it sheds light on all the other gifts that were given, that they were indeed acts of devotion and love.
With this in mind, we can understand the deeper meaning of what happened at the Yam Suf. Hashem had already promised Avraham Avinu that his descendants would leave their bondage, and do it with great wealth. Yetzias Mitzrayim, with all its miracles and with all the riches that Klal Yisrael took from Egypt, could still be understood as the fulfillment of that promise. It showed that Hashem is trustworthy. But it did not yet reveal, in the fullest sense, the depth of His love for Klal Yisrael.
Then came Kriyas Yam Suf. The miracles multiplied beyond what was necessary. The revelation of Hashem was far more intense than anything that had been required simply to take the nation out of Egypt. Even the spoils that Klal Yisrael received there surpassed what they had taken at the Exodus itself. This was Hashem going beyond the "standard," beyond the minimum needed to keep a promise. And it is precisely that extra, that overflow, that reveals love.
The miracles at Krias Yam Suf were necessary to help cast new light on everything that came before it. It shows that all the obligations that were fulfilled were not cold duties, but expressions of a relationship. When Hashem went beyond what was necessary, when He multiplied the miracles and the blessings at the Yam Suf, He was teaching Klal Yisrael that everything from the beginning of the Geulah, all the Makkos, all the salvations, all the steps of redemption, were not just the execution of an ancient promise. They were, and always had been, acts of love.
Now we can understand why this had to be mentioned specifically the night of Yetzias Mitzrayim. The point is not to shift the celebration away from the Exodus, but to deepen our understanding of what the Exodus really was. By emphasizing that the miracles of Kriyas Yam Suf far outstripped those of Yetzias Mitzrayim, Chazal are teaching us that Hashem later went far beyond what was strictly necessary. And that "beyond" reveals the inner meaning of everything that came before it.
On the night of the Seder, we are not only recounting historical events; we are trying to feel the relationship. We want to know not only that Hashem redeemed us, but how He redeemed us. When Hashem goes above and beyond, when He multiplies miracles and blessings far past the minimum required to fulfill a promise, it shows that the earlier acts were not cold fulfillments of an obligation. They were expressions of love.
This beautiful idea is something that is deeply relevant to our own lives. Much of avodas Hashem, Service of God, does not take place in the clear black-and-white areas. There are obviously things that are absolutely prohibited and things that are clearly required, and on those there is no discussion. But there is also a very wide gray area that much of halacha operates in. One Rav says this is permitted, another Rav says it is not ideal, a third says it depends. Most questions encountered by people find them falling precisely in that space in between.
A person can choose to live by asking, "Can I get away with this? Is there someone, somewhere, who will permit it?" And often the answer is yes. But that is the level of fulfilling obligation. That is doing what is technically allowed. It is not a language of love. Those gray areas are our Yam Suf moments. They are the places where we can go beyond what is required and show Hashem, not just that we are obedient, but that we care. We could rely on the leniency. We could take the easier path. We could say, "Halachically, I'm covered." But instead we choose to say, "I want to do this better. I want to be closer. I want to act not only as a servant who fulfills orders, but as a child who wants to please his Father."
If everything were black and white, there would be no room for this. What is permitted is permitted and what is prohibited is prohibited, and that would be the end of the story. The Torah, in its wisdom, created a world in which there is space for choice, for sensitivity, for going above and beyond. And it is precisely there that love is expressed.
Just as Hashem went beyond what was required at the Yam Suf, revealing that all of Yetzias Mitzrayim had been an act of love, so too we are given opportunities in our lives to go beyond the minimum. In those moments, when we choose the more careful path, the more refined path, the path that is not demanded but chosen, we are, in our own small way, telling Hashem: I am not only doing what I must. I am doing what I want, because I want to be Yours.
May we all be able to show Hashem just how much we love Him through our service of Him!
Have an amazing Shabbos!
Rabbi Moshe Revah Mrevah2@touro.edu | 
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