Rabbi Dr. Kenneth Brander is President and Rosh HaYeshiva of Ohr Torah Stone With Pesach just around the corner, we read Parshat Hachodesh, which recounts the original Korban Pesach offered as the Jewish people awaited their redemption from Egypt. Each family took a lamb into their home, placing the blood on their doorposts to ensure God would pass over their places of residence. And already in Egypt, God tells Moshe to instruct the Jewish people that this ritual will be commemorated each and every year, reliving the moment of redemption through the Pesach offering. Yet the commemorative Korban Pesach (called "Pesach Dorot"), offered first in the Mishkan and later in the Beit Hamikdash, differed in a number of ways from the original Korban Pesach (called "Pesach Mitzrayim"). Pesach Mitzrayim was dramatic: the lamb was designated days in advance, the blood was used to mark the doorways, and the meat was eaten hastily, as the Jews readied for their departure. But all these elements, Chazal teach us (Mishna Pesachim 9:5), were absent from Pesach Dorot. This contrast between Pesach Mitzrayim and Pesach Dorot makes our Haftarah (Yechezkel 45-46) all the more striking. In fact, in the Gemara (Menachot 45a, Shabbat 13b, Chagigah 13a), our Sages question whether the Book of Yechezkel truly belongs in the canonized Tanach! This is in light of, among other passages, the section read for our Haftarah. Surprisingly, Yechezkel’s description of the Korban Pesach introduces several differences from Pesach Dorot. Yechezkel’s version includes a sin-offering of a bull, seven bulls and seven rams for seven days as burnt offerings - none of which appear in the Torah. The same goes for the meal-to-animal ratios of the menachot that accompany the sacrificed animals. In essence, Yechezkel describes a sacrificial rite that is totally different from what we are taught in the Torah. How can that be? The Talmud (Menachot ibid.) alludes to a resolution, which Maimonides (Maaseh Hakorbanot 2:14) further clarifies: Yechezkel's sacrificial system is not contradicting the rules proscribed in the Torah but rather describes the unique offerings that will accompany the consecration of the third Beit Hamikdash in the era of Mashiach. In that context, a different sacrificial paradigm will be in effect, reflecting, like Pesach Mitzrayim did in its time, (the original Pesach offering) that unique moment in Jewish history. With this explanation, we see at least four different paradigms of Korban Pesach, which is one of the central mitzvot in the Torah to commemorate our Exodus from Egypt: The original Pesach Mitzrayim, Pesach Dorot, the “make-up version” of Pesach Sheni for those unable to bring the Paschal sacrifice in its designated time, and Yechezkel’s messianic Pesach. Even and especially when it comes to Korbanot, so rigidly structured and detailed, in which a single diversion from the Torah’s dictates disqualifies the entire sacrifice, there is still a certain fluidity in the offering response to changing circumstances. In order for the Korban Pesach, or any sacrifice, to have the intended spiritual impact on us, it must reflect the place we find ourselves and we must work to inculcate its message into our weltanschauung - be that in the slave-huts of Egypt, during the era of the Mishkan or Beit Hamikdash, or in the wondrous days of the messianic era. This striving for a manner of mitzvah observance that speaks to our present moment and spiritual position is itself a form of redemption, as we constantly seek new pathways for connecting with God. Just as the Korban Pesach evolved ever so slightly to meet the realities of different generations, so too must we continually assess how to infuse our mitzvot and traditions with relevance and significance. This is particularly true in Israel today, as we navigate the challenges of national identity, security, and spiritual resilience. For example, throughout the war we have revisited definitions of Shabbat observance for soldiers and those providing essential support, and reengaged with the safeguards first established by King David thousands of years ago to prevent agunot in cases where God forbid soldiers may go missing with their whereabouts unknown. The idea that mitzvot speak to our current moment resonates more than ever as we grapple with questions of unity and faith amidst our seemingly ever-growing struggles. Yechezkel’s vision of a messianic Pesach reminds us that even as we face new challenges, our mitzvot and traditions will always remain meaningful, guiding and uniting us on our path toward redemption.
