You are my Father. This guy's defense. I'm done.
Very important topic today, really an uplifting topic. Last week's parasha, parasha Bo, the Jewish people are finally starting to turn things around. We've been persecuted by the Egyptians, beaten and killed. And finally, HaKadosh Baruch Hu (God) says, “Enough is enough. I am going to take the Jewish people out of Mitzrayim (Egypt).” And the Torah writes something interesting, and we reference this in the Haggadah every single year when we talk about Yetziat Mitzrayim (the Exodus from Egypt). It says, which means: “I will go through Mitzrayim.” God says, “I will pass through the land of Egypt. And I will kill the firstborn of the Egyptians.” And the Haggadah comments, which means that Hashem is saying, “I myself will take the Jewish people out of Egypt. I will not send an angel. I will not send a messenger. Rather, God Himself says, ‘I will come and take the Jewish people and finally redeem them from their slavery.’”
Now I ask you guys a question. Imagine I told you somebody—not you, somebody—was in jail for 10 years, and he was supposed to be there for the next 50 years. And they tell him, “By the way, we have good news. You are going to be led out of jail.” “I'm going to be led out of jail, really?” “Yes, you are going to be free. Not only that, we are going to present you with a check for a million dollars to help you get back on your feet.” “Wow. Is this a dream? What does that mean? You're letting me out of jail. I have a life sentence, and you're going to give me a million bucks? That's unbelievable.” And then they tell you, “And you know what the best part of all is? The best part of all is that the president, the president of the prison, is going to be the one doing this. He's going to be the one who presents the checks to you and opens the lock.”
I don't know about everyone here, but my reaction would be, “I don't care who does it. Get me out of this jail. Give me my million dollars. What do I care who gives it to me?” Would you care? Someone's going to give you a million dollars. Would you care who it was? Would you care if it was the president or the janitor down the block? A million dollars is a million dollars. Why do I care? Why should the Jewish people care? The Torah makes such a point that Hashem Himself is going to redeem us from Egypt. Why is that significant? Let it be Hashem. Let it be an angel. What's the difference between an angel taking us out of Mitzrayim as a messenger of God and God Himself taking us out of Mitzrayim? We know that in the city of Sedom, God sent angels to save the family of Lot and, at the same time, destroy Sedom. Why, by Egypt, is it unique that Hashem Himself took us out of Egypt? Does everyone appreciate the question? Good. I want to answer this question with a very deep story, a story with a tremendous lesson.
This story takes place in Tanakh. There was a big tzaddik (righteous person), a king by the name of Chizkiyahu HaMelech. Chizkiyahu was a tremendously righteous person, one of the greatest kings the Jewish nation ever had. He had a son by the name of Menashe. Menashe was as wicked as you could possibly be. Anyone who learned Torah, Menashe tried to kill them. If he found out someone was learning Torah, it was, “Get rid of them.” Any rabbis: dead. He looked through the Torah to find sins that he could do. “Oh, this is—I never heard of this Aveira (sin). Okay, let's do this.” He married his sister at a certain point. That's how crazy he was in his fight and rebellion against Hashem. Any sin he could find to try to get God angry, this man, Menashe, did. And finally, the day of reckoning for this man came. He was captured by the army they were fighting against. They took Menashe and put him in a cauldron, in a pot, a burning-hot pot on fire. And Menashe was now being burnt to death. What was the reaction of this man?
Now rabbis tell us that he began to scream out to every idol, every idol he ever served. “This idol, please save me.” “This Avodah Zarah (idolatry), save me.” One after another, he's calling out to his idols. And the rabbis tell us, obviously, there was no answer. Nothing was helping him. And here he is, slowly dying. Finally he yells out, “Okay, God, if you are really up there, if you really have power, please save me. But if you don't save me, I'll know you're nothing better than an idol. You're just as fake as they are.” Can you imagine a more insolent, disrespectful prayer than that?
And our rabbis tell us that the angels wanted to block this tefillah (prayer). They didn't want to let this prayer in. Such a disgusting prayer: “If you don't help me, I'll know you're no better than the idols that I pray to. Who are you? What are you? You're a piece of garbage.” And yet this man has the gall to say, “Hashem, if you're really real, save me.” The most insincere prayer ever. And our rabbis tell us that God said, “I will dig a tunnel under my throne to accept the tefillah of this man.” Which, again, is not a literal thing. But it means that his tefillah could not enter the normal way. Hashem had to, so to speak, dig a tunnel, a side entrance, to accept the prayer of Menashe. Why was that? God said, “For one reason: I want every Jew to know that no matter what situation they're in, no matter how far they fall, no matter how terrible an action they do, I'll always take them back.”
And guys, I want to ask the same question. What's going on over here? The angels block the gates of prayer? Hashem is digging a tunnel under his kisei hakavod (holy throne). What exactly does that mean? Did Hashem accept the prayer or not? Hashem makes the rules. The angels don't fight against God. What is the meaning of this Chazal (our rabbis)? What is the meaning that the gates of prayer were locked, but God said, God, so to speak, dug a tunnel to take the prayer of Menashe?
Listen to the answer, guys. Never forget this for the rest of your lives. Hashem created the world with a set of rules. Rules. One of the rules is gravity, right? You throw things up, they come down. And there are also spiritual rules: the 13 attributes of Hashem. El, rachum vechanun. Hashem is merciful. He grants us free gifts. He is slow to anger, and so on and so forth. But the world has rules. No matter how merciful Hashem is, at a certain point, if a person goes too far, he is no longer within the boundaries of mercy.
To explain what I mean, you can have a person who is known to be a nice guy. You have your friend Joe. Joe is a very nice man by all accounts. But if you block his driveway, slash his tires, and then throw a rock through his window, even though he is a nice and merciful man, he would be totally entitled to call the cops on you. Would anyone say, “Oh, Joe is no longer a nice and merciful man”? Absolutely not. There's a point and there's a limit to how far mercy can go. There's a limit to how far love for another person can go. So Joe could be the nicest guy in the world. But if you break his window, throw a rock at his kid, and kick his car, at a certain point even the nicest man in the world will say, “ad kan (that's enough),” and fight back.
So to speak, God has a world with rules, rules of mercy. But at a certain point, if a person gets so far, if a person does such terrible things, or if a person is in such a hopeless situation, at a certain point, the rules no longer apply to that person. God says, “I am above all of that.” The Jews in Mitzrayim right now are on the 49th level of Tumah (impurity). Really? Do they deserve to be redeemed? Absolutely not. According to the rules of the game, they are in no way deserving of being redeemed from Mitzrayim. Hashem says, “I make the rules. There are no rules when we talk directly to Hashem. Hashem can do anything. Although the rules of mercy dictate that the Jewish people do not deserve to be redeemed from Mitzrayim, I make the rules. I make the rules. I make the rules. I do not work with angels. I do not work with the messenger. It is Hashem Himself who says, ‘I don't have to follow the rules. I transcend all those rules.’”
And that was the story of Menashe. You have this King Menashe, the most wicked king in the world. He couldn't be worse if he tried. With the most disrespectful prayer, according to the rules of the world, this man did not deserve one single kick of mercy. But yet Hashem says, “I'm going to dig a tunnel. I'm going to dig a tunnel that doesn't exist.” Because when we go directly to God, when we go directly to Hashem, you don't need rules.
Sometimes people say, “You know, I want to pray for something, but I know I don't deserve it. Or I want to rely on Hashem to help me out of a situation, but I know there's no way in the world that He'll give it to me. I didn't do enough good things for it.” Or even worse, somebody will say, “I want to change. But I did so many bad things, it doesn't make sense for God to forgive me.” What we learn from this is, yeah, you're right. If you follow the normal rules, you don't deserve to be forgiven. If you follow the normal rules, you don't deserve to have that miracle happen to help you. Ani velo Malach (I and not an angel). Hashem doesn't work with the regular rules. You go straight to Hashem. You say, “Hashem, I don't know what I did. I don't know what I have to do. I don't know if this is possible. But one thing I do know: you can do anything. And I ask you to forgive me.” And boom! There's a tunnel under Hashem's holy throne that says, “Forget the rules. You're in.”
A person cries out to Hashem, “Hashem, I need a yeshuah (a salvation).” Does he deserve it? They pull up his account. “No, way too many sins. Not enough mitzvot (commandments). He doesn't deserve it.” “Hashem, I don't want to work with that. I want to talk to You. Please, Hashem, give me that salvation.” Hashem doesn't work with the rules when you go straight to Hashem. Hashem is above that.
I read a beautiful story. There was a man around 50 years ago who was facing a very lengthy prison sentence, upwards of 30, 40 years. He was a Jewish man, and he didn't know what to do with himself. He called one of the best lawyers in New York. He had this lawyer representing him. The lawyer looked at his case and said, “Look, I'll be honest with you. We'll call the guy Joe. Joe, I'll be honest with you. There's no shot you're winning this case. You're facing at least 45 years in prison. If I do a good job, maybe I'll get it down to 40, 35. But that's it.”
Joe was thinking to himself, “How in the world am I going to survive this? I go to jail for a year, my name is ruined. How in the world am I going to get out of this?” Finally, the day of the trial came. Joe headed down to the courtroom a couple of hours before the case was supposed to start. His lawyer was nowhere to be found. He called up his lawyer. “Where are you? The case is starting in an hour and a half. Where are you?” The lawyer said, “Joe, I just got into a multi-car accident. I'm an hour and a half away. By the time I get my car towed, there's no way I'm going to be able to make it.” Joe said, “What are you talking about? You can't make it?” The lawyer said, “Don't worry. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay.” Joe said, “I don't care if you're okay. I have a court case. I'm going to prison for the rest of my life. You have to get down there.” The lawyer said, “Don't worry. I'm sending a replacement.” “You're sending a replacement? Is he good?” “Yeah, yeah, he's very good.” “Okay.” Joe hung up.
Half an hour later, Joe's new lawyer walked into the courtroom. He looked like he was 22 years old. He opened up his briefcase and started shuffling around. Then he was admiring the surroundings of the courtroom like he'd never been there before. And he started talking to Joe. “Oh, that's the judge. That's this. Wow.” And he was looking around. “Wow, the room's so big.” Joe was thinking to himself, “This guy sounds like he never took a case in his life. This is who my life is resting on right now.”
Sure enough, they opened up the case, and this lawyer started defending Joe. He started reading off a paper, then realized he was reading off paper. “Page seven.” He started again. “One second. Let me find page one.” His arguments were incoherent. He didn't understand the case. The prosecution was dynamic, and they were just blowing this guy out. And Joe just had his head in his hands, thinking, “Is it going to be 40 years in prison? Is it going to be 50 years in prison?” At the end of the case, he was convinced that he was guilty. Forget about the prosecution. He looked at the judge. The judge picked up his gavel to issue his ruling and said, “Innocent. Cleared of all charges.” Joe couldn't believe it. He was thinking to himself, “What in the world?” He turned to his lawyer and started hugging him. “Wow. How'd you do that? How'd you pull that off? I didn't know what you were saying. You must have been saying jewels of wisdom. I didn't see it. But how'd you do that?” The young lawyer looked at him sheepishly and said, “Well, to be honest with you, the judge is my grandfather.”
In life, this is a true story. In life, there are rules. If you are a judge, you have to follow a set of rules. You have to look at the prosecution. You have to look at the defense. You have to follow a protocol. But guess what? When the judge is your grandfather, all the rules go out the window. Even though, according to the normal rules of a court case, this guy is guilty, “He's my grandson. My grandson is defending him. How could I let him down?”
Hashem is our father. The father doesn't have to abide by the rules. When you turn to your father and you say, “Hashem, I want to come back. I want to get better,” the rules say that you're too far gone. The rules say you don't deserve what you're asking for. “I am and I am not worthy.” Hashem does not work with the rules. He's always there for us. He's our father.