…וַיְהִי בַּחֲצִי הַלַּיְלָה וַה’ הִכָּה כָל בְּכוֹר בְּאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם
”And it was midnight and Hashem smote every firstborn in the land of Egypt…” (12:29)
While reviewing the parsha – as one does – I began to wonder – as one might: What makes a Jewish home? Is it the mezuzahs on the doorposts? Is it the menorah in the window? Is it the candlesticks? The kiddush cup? The tzedaka box? Look around at the shelves filled with Jewish books…is that what does it? It’s Erev Shabbos again, and the warm smells of challah and chicken soup, kugel and baked goods permeate the air. Is that what defines a Jewish home? Is that what makes it a Yiddishe shtub?
How did I get here? Well, let me show you.
After 210 long and bitter years in exile, Parshas Bo finds our fledgling nation standing on the threshold of redemption, while, in stark contrast, the once mighty Egyptian Empire teeters on the precipice – literally on the brink of extinction. Hashem has inflicted the Mitzri’im with nine epidemic-like plagues, and is about to punish their cruelty with the tenth, and final dose of justice.
Moshe Rabbeinu warns the still-skeptical sovereign of the impending disaster, and I quote: “Your majesty,” Moshe says, “on the eve of the fifteenth day of Nissan, at approximately midnight, Hashem will leave His abode, so to speak, and will come down into Egypt. He will pass judgment on the wicked and will kill those whom you hold in the highest regard – the firstborn – because of His love for His own firstborn, the Jewish people.”
Moshe continues, “Listen well, your majesty. Every Egyptian firstborn in every Egyptian household will die, from the most prominent princes, down to the lowliest citizen – the impoverished, the imprisoned or the enslaved. If in a home there is no living firstborn, the head of the household will perish instead. Every firstborn animal will die as well. Not just that, Hashem will also destroy your gods – those made of wood will rot, those made of stone will crumble and dissolve, and those made of metal will melt.”
“Thousands upon thousands of your population will suffer a most gruesome death. But, your majesty,” Moshe calls out, peering at Pharaoh and at the distinguished ministers that surround him, “a great miracle will occur during this plague. When Hashem Himself comes through the land to personally execute His Divine retribution, He will pass over the Jewish homes, sparing the lives of every single one of His children.”
“Despite your greatest efforts, Pharaoh, it will be the sons and daughters of Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov who will survive and endure forever, just as Hashem had promised so long ago. He will see to it that His nation will rise, will rebuild, and will fill their future homes with light, with Torah and with Kedushah.”
I can continue this nearly-accurate narrative, but at least now you understand how I arrived at the question. Over the last little while, we have been spending a lot more time in our homes, as they have become sanctuaries and safe havens from the outside world. But the more we’re at home, the more we can appreciate what makes it uniquely “Jewish.”
A house full of spiritual light. A house full of Torah. A house full of holiness – THIS is a Jewish home. A house that is infused with these qualities will proudly proclaim “Du voint a Yid” – A Yid lives here.
Du Voint A Yid was composed and written by the accomplished Antwerpian composer Hershy Rottenberg, and is the title track of the remarkable release by Yisroel Werdyger in 2019. As did his previous four albums, Du Voint A Yid contained songs that were sweet to listen to, joyful to dance to and emotional enough to touch the heart – immediately landing onto my list of favorites.
Yisroel says:
This is a beautiful song based on the pasuk, “אשר פסח הקב”ה על בתי בני ישראל במצרים” and founded on the pithy approach by Rav Moshe Leib Sassover, zt’l (whose yahrtzeit was yesterday, the 4th of Shevat). He would explain in his special way that, kevayachol, Hakadosh Boruch Hu jumped over and danced with joy, declaring “Ah, Du Voint A Yid” in His joy that His children would be coming out of the house of slavery – out of the melting pot that was Mitzrayim – to be brought close to Him. This idea is very close to my heart which is why I felt it especially appropriate to name the album after this song.
Wishing you a Shabbos filled with light, Torah and Kedusha!
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