Keep On Keeping On
In the Shailos and Teshuvos Kol Yaakov of Rabbi Yaakov Meshullam Ginzburg, there is an eye-opening question:
“During one of the days of Chol HaMoed, the Baal Keriyah started reading the 4th Aliyah from the wrong word, and no one noticed until they realized that they didn’t say ‘Ka’ayeleh!’ Do we need to repeat the Aliyah?”
After a lengthy explanation of the obligations of Torah reading on various days, R’ Ginzburg concludes that they did indeed need to repeat the reading.
The fascinating part of this story is that our “custom” of singing Ka’ayeleh is at least a century old. The sefer was published in 1935, and apparently it was common enough that both the questioner and the Rav were familiar with it.
Somehow, Jews around the world have found this word to be the anthem of Pesach, which means that we need to understand it. In the words of Hillel: הנח להן לישראל אם אין נביאים הן בני נביאים הן – Even if the Jewish people are not prophets, they are the children of prophets. That is to say, the customs that arise from our nation have some deeply rooted truths.
Rav Kook, in his enigmatic sefer Reish Milin, explains the meaning behind the Taamei HaMikrah the musical notes of Torah reading. Being that the seventh day of Pesach is the day we read the song of Yam Suf, perhaps we should take a moment to understand the ancient music of our people.
The word “Ka’ayeleh” is sung with the note אלזא גרש — literally, “go, get out.” On this, Rav Kook writes:
התנועה מצד עצמה מוכרה היא בתור חיים, יסוד הראשון של התנועה מוכרח הוא להיות פנימי, וממילא נפשי חיי, והתנועה החיה מעוררת בנפש את יסוד החיים, שהוא הולך ועולה עד מקורו, מקור חי העולמים, וכל מה שהיא הולכת, בין בהתקדמות, בין בנסיגות, בכלל, הכל מעיד על יסוד אור חיים, והצללים נסים, נגרשים הם כל מחזות השוא, כל חזיוני המות ודממת השאיה, מפני התגלות אור החיים, וממילא מתהפכת כל תנועה לעליה, ומגרשת היא את הירידה, היא מתלבשת מחוצה לה ומפנימיותה באור הנצח, באור התחיה, והמות והרגעיות מתגרשים, ואור חיי עולם מתפלש ובא, וחדות עולמים מנגנת מאליה.
Life is defined by movement... When the most inner part of a person is in motion, it is moving toward the source of its life. Every motion is directed upward, whether the actual movement is forward or backward. In totality, all of it testifies to the foundation of the Light of Life. The shadows recede, along with the visions of meaninglessness and the fictions of death; they are all sent away. In that moment, failure is exiled, all movement is an ascent, clothed in victory inside and out... The joy of all worlds bursts out in song by itself.
There is something incredible about כאלה — people want to sing it; it bursts forth. The notes rise and rise, and everyone is lifted with it.
But at this point, we should question what exactly is prompting such a steep ascent: כָּאֵלֶּה תַּעֲשׂוּ לַיּוֹם שִׁבְעַת יָמִים — You should repeat this korban each day of Pesach for seven days. Rashi, from the Sifri, comments: שֶׁלֹּא יִהְיוּ פוֹחֲתִין וְהוֹלְכִין כְּפָרֵי הֶחָג — that the korbanos do not decrease throughout Pesach, as they do throughout Succos.
Somehow, the magnificent ascent of all worlds bursts forth from doing the same thing over and over again. But how?
Perhaps this is the secret of the seventh day of Pesach, the day when we stood between the sea and the advancing Egyptian army.
Paralyzed with terror and trauma, we cried: כִּי טוֹב לָנוּ עֲבֹד אֶת־מִצְרַיִם מִמֻּתֵנוּ בַּמִּדְבָּר — it’s better to serve Egypt than to die in the desert. We lifted our eyes and our voices to Hashem, pleading for Him to save us from our tormentors. In that moment, Hashem responded: מַה־תִּצְעַק אֵלָי דַּבֵּר אֶל־בְּנֵי־יִשְׂרָאֵל וְיִסָּעוּ — Don’t cry to Me; tell the Jewish people to move forward!
The goal of Yetzias Mitzrayim was to get away from Egypt. That goal has not changed. The direction has not budged an inch. So what if there are new challenges in front of you? So what if there’s an army chasing behind you? Success comes from putting one foot in front of the other — כָּאֵלֶּה.
Real change doesn’t happen in an instant. Growth takes time.
The story of Yam Suf is that the sea splits for those who keep on keeping on. Chazal reveal to us that this is not simply a miracle that overruled nature. In the deepest way, this is the nature of the world: וַיָּשָׁב הַיָּם לְאֵיתָנוֹ, לִתְנָאוֹ שֶׁהִתְנָה עִמּוֹ. When Hashem created the sea, He told it that the time would come for it to split.
And the same is true for us. At the point when we feel the greatest resistance, the greatest pushback, Hashem promises us: כאלה — keep on moving, and you’ll see, even you can change.