In the opening passages of Parshat Va’era, Hashem proclaims to Moshe His intention to liberate Israel and lead us out of bondage in Mitzrayim. He uses the four “languages of redemption” that are familiar to us from the Pesach Seder. The Talmud Yerushalmi (Pesachim 10:1) teaches that therse are one possible basis for the four cups drunk at the Seder. Rav Shimshon Rafael Hirsch correlates these four expressions with the four afflictions Avram was warned at the Covenant between the Parts (Brit bein Habetarim) that his offspring would endure. Thus, in the galut of Mitzrayim which is the paradigm for all future exiles, Israel experiences every form of alienation and subjugation. In the redemption from this exile, which as we’ve seen previously is the paradigm for future redemption, each of these afflictions is reversed and overcome by direct Divine intervention.
Rav Hirsch explains that each of the acts that negates these aspects of exile is miraculous and can only be understood as such – no force of nature could ever overcome the immense power wielded by the Mitzrim or the depths of degradation to which Israel had been reduced. For this reason, the passage is introduced by the exclamation “I am Hashem” (Shemot 6:6) – it is I alone who performs these acts.
At the Brit bein Habetarim, Hashem told Avram (Bereishit 15:13) that his descendants would be strangers in a strange land, that they would be enslaved and tormented. Rav Hirsch explains that there are three principal aspects to exile, whereas the final expression “and I will take” refers to the termination of the exile itself and the deliverance of the nation. Every one of these aspects would have been difficult to endure on its own, and no one is necessarily entailed by the other.
A citizen or permanent resident of a given land enjoys certain basic rights and expects to be treated with common decency and respect. But someone who is a perennial stranger, who is never accepted or embraced by the inhabitants of the land, can never feel at peace or secure and knows that nobody defends his rights. First and foremost, Hashem announces His intention to remove us from the place of exile, to take us out of the land in which we are unwelcome strangers. This is the basis for the language “VeHotzeti,” and I will take them out.
It is possible to be enslaved but not to suffer brutality, and also to be tormented without being a slave. Therefore, the experience of wanton cruelty and abuse that we endured during our sojourn in Mitzrayim was its own special affliction, separate from the alienation and the enslavement. When Hashem liberated us from this state of perpetual victimhood and delivered us from the depredations of our Egyptian overlords, He was saving us – “VeHitzalti.”
The slave is in a particularly dire and degraded position, combining aspects of the stranger and the victim. The slave who is abused by his master has no one to defend him or to speak on his behalf – he is utterly alone. When Hashem announces His intention to intervene for us, this corresponds to the language of geulah, redemption. Generally, when we encounter this expression in Scripture it refers to a close relative intervening on behalf of someone whose rights have been trampled. Thus, for example, in the Book of Ruth we find Ruth and Naomi to be in need of a close relative to remedy their desperate circumstances, a go’el. Elsewhere, where the law permits the close relatives of a murder victim to render justice to his murderer, these close relatives are referred to as go’el hadam, the redeemer of the (shed) blood. In Mitzrayim, Israel had no close relative and no one who would advocate for us and come to our defense. Thus, Hashem took it upon Himself to be our Redeemer, Go’el Yisrael. “And I will redeem them,” He told Moshe.
Finally, Hashem takes us out of our desperate situation – “VeLakachti etchem Li la’am” (Shemot 6:7). Rav Hirsch points out that this formulation is very distinctive and noteworthy. He says we learn from this passage how the People of Israel differ from every other nation, and how the relationship between Israel and our G-d cannot be adequately described as a “faith” or a “religion.” When Hashem takes us out of bondage, He does so with the explicit intention of making us “for Me, a nation.” Other nations have kings and nobles; other religions have temples, holy books, and rituals. Human history is replete with examples of gods speaking to priests and kings, forging special bonds and making promises or demanding tribute. Nowhere else do we find an example of G-d speaking to an entire nation of people, designating that nation for Him, and for His service, establishing a unique and enduring relationship.
Rav Hirsch elaborates further, pointing out that a nation is not defined by any external characteristics or attributes – this designation comes from a relationship that exists between the members of the nation. In preparing to take us out of Mitzrayim, Hashem is declaring to us, for us and for our posterity, that insofar as we are a nation – unified and embodied as participants in a common destiny – then He is our G-d. Indeed, Hashem declares to Moshe, “I will take them out of Mitzrayim, apart from all the other peoples and nations of the world, and in my taking of them they will be designated forever as a nation that is known to be mine.” Israel is the nation that Hashem took to be His own, for as long as we remain a nation and retain the aspects of our identity that lend us coherence among nations, then we are and will always be the Nation of Hashem.
