Festival Of Redemption

By Yochanan Gordon

“In the month of Nisan we were redeemed, and in the month of Nisan we will be redeemed.”—Tractate Rosh Hashanah

In the past, I have used this space to discuss aspects of the Seder night. Oftentimes I’ll just write a story, knowing how much Torah will be discussed at the Seder table, and wanting to keep it light as a result.

This year, however, the circumstances are different. It’s a time of war.

The Gemara says that when we see nations warring, we should anticipate the footsteps of Moshiach—yetzapeh l’raglei Moshiach.

As I wrote those words, I paused to consider their uniqueness. We’re familiar with the term ikvesa d’Moshicha—the heels of Moshiach. But yetzapeh l’raglei Moshiach sounds different.

One of the questions, the Gemara relates, that a soul is asked upon entering the next world is: tzipisa l’yeshuah?—Did you anticipate salvation?

The paradigm of this expectancy, as reported by a number of our great leaders, was to have suitcases packed and ready, so that when the declaration of redemption came, one could leave without delay.

As many Jews have taken flights to reach their Pesach destinations, the phrase “prepare for landing,” announced over the loudspeaker, is said just moments before the plane touches down.

Yetzapeh l’raglei Moshiach carries that same sense of immediacy.

In fact, the Brisker Rav, in his understanding of the Mishneh Torah, “af al pi sheyismahme’ah, im kol zeh achakeh lo b’chol yom sheyavo,” understood that our belief in Moshiach, and our anticipation of him, must be constant—every moment—lest one fall short in this principle.

So we are in a time of war. Not just any war, but one involving America, Israel, Iran, Saudi Arabia, Qatar, and much of the Muslim world.

Many have turned to sources—Yalkut Shimoni, the twelfth chapter of book of Daniel—to suggest that we stand at the threshold of redemption.

And then there are those who take a more sober approach.

An acquaintance of mine, to whom I sent one of these hopeful shiurim, responded:

“I want Moshiach to come—but I’m not a fan of connecting current events to it. I’ve been burned too many times.”

I don’t know if achakeh lo b’chol yom leaves room for “I want Moshiach to come, but…”

And his sense of being “burned” is real. Painfully real.

How many times have we raised our expectations, only to be let down?

I responded with a story of the Tzemach Tzedek. In the year תר״ח—whose very letters echo cheirus—he spoke of Moshiach’s imminent arrival. When the year passed and adayin lo nosha’nu, the chassidim asked for an explanation.

The Rebbe answered, “Did you not see that the Alter Rebbe’s Likkutei Torah was published this year? That itself is an aspect of redemption.”

While Chassidus is a foretaste of the Torah of Moshiach—the key to redemption in mercy—you can imagine that many chassidim were expecting something more… actual.

So yes, I understand why my acquaintance didn’t respond.

We are beleaguered.

As Rabbi Yussie Zakutinsky said in his Shabbos Zachor derashah:

“I’m sick and tired of golus.”

We all are.

We’re sick of illness.

Of premature death.

Of tragic accidents that claim young lives.

Of couples quietly carrying the burden of infertility.

We’re sick of the hatred, the hostility, the desecration of Your Name that has followed us through centuries—and now surges again.

And no, we don’t want Moshiach merely for comfort.

These pains are symptoms. What we truly yearn for is giluy Elokus—a world suffused with Divine unity.

We’ve been here before. Even recently. Moments that felt like the cusp.

And yet I’ve come to believe that the anticipation itself has power. It is not naïve. It is generative.

The Lubavitcher Rebbe raised this expectancy during the Gulf War. I felt it then, even as a nine-year-old.

He didn’t come then.

Nor during COVID, when I last felt this urgency in my bones the way I do now.

So people are afraid of being burned.

Others quote the Baal Shem Tov, that Moshiach will come on a random Wednesday, when least expected.

But if you expect him on a random Wednesday and not in a time of global upheaval then perhaps this is precisely the moment least expected for you.

There is confusion surrounding how Moshiach will come. The Rambam himself writes we won’t know the details until it happens.

There are even seeming contradictions:

The Frierdiker Rebbe said Moshiach’s arrival will be reported in newspapers, implying it will be a breaking news item. He also said Chazal say Moshiach’s identity is a poor person riding on a donkey. The Frierdiker Rebbe said just like most people don’t take notice of a poor person on a donkey, it may take a few days to notice Moshiach came.

At the close of yom tov, many have the custom of a special meal—Seudas Moshiach, or Seudas Baal Shem Tov.

The Baal Shem Tov once set out to meet the Ohr HaChaim Hakadosh. There was a tradition: if they met, Moshiach would come.

It was a tumultuous journey that, outwardly, failed.

The Ohr HaChaim sent word through Rabbi Gershon Kitover:

If the Besht sees only his image—but not his feet—he should not proceed.

The Besht, in fact, did not see the feet. And the message never reached him.

But perhaps yetzapeh l’raglei Moshiach means precisely this:

Not a distant, abstract redemption—but Moshiach with his feet on the ground.

Malchus of Asiyah.

The place where, as the Arizal teaches, the tichud of the Seder night occurs.

So yes, nations are at war.

The signs are there.

And still, we hesitate to expect lest we be disappointed again.

And yet—

Aibershter… we are ready.

Please don’t let us down again. 

Yochanan Gordon can be reached at [email protected]. Read more of Yochanan’s articles at 5TJT.com.