Shelo Asani Eved: Freedom From Pharaoh, Parnassah, Taivos, and the Opinions of Others

Topics

• Biur HaTefillah: Shelo Asani Eved — The Freedom to Be a Yid
• A Shiur Dedicated to a Refuah Sheleimah
• How I Came to Love Rav Reuven Melamed's Sefarim
• "Shelo Asani Eved" as a Thank-You for Yetzias Mitzrayim
• Freedom Is a Madreigah, Not Only a Physical Condition
• The Difference Between a Free Man and an Eved
• The Eved Ivri and the Bondage of Parnassah
• Michtav MeEliyahu: Who Is Really Your Master?
• A Person Can Be a Slave to His Own Desires
• A Teaching of the Chofetz Chaim
• Hefkerus Is Not Freedom
• The Most Subtle Avdus: Being a Slave to Other People's Opinions
• A Question About the Nature of Freedom
• "If Everyone Jumped Off the Roof, Would You?"
• We Are Meant to Live on a Higher Madreigah
• The Brachah Every Morning

Transcript

# Biur HaTefillah: Shelo Asani Eved — The Freedom to Be a Yid

## A Shiur Dedicated to a Refuah Sheleimah

Rabosai, I want to begin by apologizing. Tonight's shiur is going to be a little shorter than usual. My uncle, **Rav Yehuda Kellmer**, shlita, was struck by a car last night. I was up the whole night, learning in his zechus and davening for his refuah sheleimah. So I'm tired, and perhaps the delivery won't be what it normally is. But I didn't want to cancel. May this shiur be a zechus for **Rav Yehuda ben Rivka Leah**, and may he have a complete refuah sheleimah.

We have been learning through **Birchos HaShachar**. Last week we discussed **"שלא עשני גוי"**. Tonight I want to understand the next brachah:

**"ברוך אתה ה' אלקינו מלך העולם שלא עשני עבד."**

What does it mean, Hashem **did not make me an eved**?

At first, you might say it means **eved Kena'ani**, a non-Jewish slave. But **Rav Bar Yakar**, one of the Rishonim, raises a difficulty: haven't we already thanked Hashem that He didn't make us a non-Jew? If so, why would we need a second brachah about an eved Kena'ani, whose basic halachic status differs from that of an ordinary Jewish free man?

Therefore he suggests that **"shelo asani eved"** refers instead to an **eved Ivri**, a Jewish servant. [The exact Rav Bar Yakar text and the scholarly interpretation of the brachah require checking in its original edition.]

But now I have a good kashya.

How does a Yid become an **eved Ivri**? A person may be sold because he stole and was unable to make restitution; in some circumstances he sells himself because of poverty. Those are the situations the Torah discusses.

So why are we thanking the Ribbono Shel Olam that He didn't **make** me an eved? The person's conduct or circumstances led to servitude. In some cases it was connected to a choice he made.

And Chazal teach the striking words concerning the servant who wishes to remain with his master: **"כי לי בני ישראל עבדים"**—Klal Yisrael are servants of Hashem, **"ולא עבדים לעבדים"**—not servants of other servants (Vayikra 25:55; Kiddushin 22b).

If you chose to be an eved, what does it mean to bless Hashem for **not making** you one?

There's another question. We don't have the practical parashah of the classical **eved Ivri** operating in our time. So why do we still say this brachah every morning?

These are serious questions. We could say the brachah reflects a historical legal status, but I want to reach something much deeper about what **avdus** actually means.

And for that I want to share a beautiful piece I saw in the sefarim of **Rav Reuven Melamed**, the mashgiach of Ponovezh Yeshivah. His sefarim are very precious to me, and there is a story about how I came to own them.

## How I Came to Love Rav Reuven Melamed's Sefarim

I want to tell you a personal story. **Rav Reuven Melamed** was the mashgiach in Ponovezh. He left behind many beautiful sefarim. He did not have children, and I felt a special attachment to his Torah.

When I went to Eretz Yisrael as a bachur, I loved sefarim. I would search for unusual sefarim and spend whatever I could to acquire them. But Rav Melamed's writings were particularly precious to me because they combined **sweet Torah**, **yiras Shamayim**, and a way of speaking that moved the heart.

I was told that copies could once be purchased from the apartment where Rav Melamed had lived, near Ponovezh Yeshivah. I went there and knocked on the door.

Nobody answered.

A neighbor came out and asked whom I was looking for. I explained that I wanted to buy Rav Melamed's sefarim. She told me that Rav Melamed and his Rebbetzin had passed away, the apartment was locked, and no one was actively distributing the books.

I was very disappointed. "Isn't there someone in the yeshivah who can sell them?"

"I doubt it," she said. She explained that there were boxes of sefarim inside and no family member she knew who was handling the distribution.

Then she gave me a most unusual suggestion. She pointed out that the boxes could be reached from the **mirpeset**, the balcony, and said that perhaps I could take the sefarim and honor the author by learning them.

I did manage to reach the boxes and retrieve the sefarim. When I asked where I should pay for them, she told me, **"Learn the sefarim. That will be your payment."** [This is Rabbi Walkin's personal recollection as given in the recording, not general advice about entering another person's property or taking books without authorization.]

Rabosai, that stayed with me for years. I felt that by learning his Torah I was helping to preserve his legacy. I learned his sefarim often, with a special emotional attachment.

One of those sefarim was a commentary on **tefillah**, referred to in the recording as *Tefillas Channah* or *Tefillas Chanetz*. I want to share a beautiful pshat that I found there. [The title requires checking against the printed volumes.]

## "Shelo Asani Eved" as a Thank-You for Yetzias Mitzrayim

The sefer reports a thought attributed to **Rav Shmuel Hominer**, in a sefer called **Olas Tamid**. He suggests that when we say **"שלא עשני עבד"**, we are thanking the Ribbono Shel Olam for **Yetzias Mitzrayim**.

What did Hashem do for us? He took us from slavery into freedom. He made us into a nation of free Yidden.

Think about it. We say **"שלא עשני גוי"** to thank Hashem that we are part of Klal Yisrael. Then **"שלא עשני עבד"** can remind us that Hashem **redeemed us from bondage**.

The sefer tells that someone showed this pshat to **Rav Yechezkel Levenstein**, Reb Chatzkel, and he greatly appreciated it. It gave him hana'ah to see such an understanding of the brachah.

Now, I am telling you, if Reb Chatzkel enjoyed that pshat, then I want to appreciate it too!

I looked further and found a similar explanation quoted in a work called **Mishnas Yosef**, by **Rav Yosef Lieberman**, on page 167 as recorded in my notes. I also recall seeing the idea attributed to the **Chofetz Chaim**, though I do not have the printed reference in front of me tonight.

Remember, I was up all night because of my uncle's accident, and I didn't have the usual time to prepare the shiur. So I want to be careful: the precise book titles, pages, and attributions need checking against their originals. But the basic **thought** is very beautiful.

Every morning, when you say **"shelo asani eved,"** you can recall that the Ribbono Shel Olam took us out of Mitzrayim.

But I think we can develop the brachah further.

Because **avdus** is not merely a legal arrangement. It can also describe **a person's inner condition**, a state of mind and a madreigah. A person may be physically free, yet live as though he is enslaved.

## Freedom Is a Madreigah, Not Only a Physical Condition

Rav Yechezkel Levenstein develops a tremendous idea. We think that **avdus** means having a master who gives you orders. Pharaoh enslaved Klal Yisrael, and therefore we were avadim.

But Reb Chatzkel says, in the discussion as I found it, perhaps the relationship goes much deeper. **Because Klal Yisrael were on the madreigah of avdus, Pharaoh could enslave them.** Their external bondage reflected an inner spiritual condition from which they had to be redeemed. [This is the teaching as orally reported by Rabbi Walkin; exact printed wording and context require verification. It is a mussar reading, not an assertion that victims of oppression deserve their suffering.]

Think about the **Dayeinu** of the Haggadah. We enumerate one level after another: if Hashem had taken us out of Mitzrayim but not done another kindness, *Dayeinu*. Each step was a gift in itself.

Being taken out of Mitzrayim was not only relief from difficult labor. It was a transformation of **who we are**. We were being raised from the status of avadim to **bnei chorin**.

So the brachah **"shelo asani eved"** could mean: Thank You, Ribbono Shel Olam, that You gave me the ability to live as a **free Yid**, not as someone whose whole being is controlled by another power.

Now someone asks me the original kashya: "But if a person became an eved Ivri because he stole or because of his own choices, how can we say Hashem did not make him an eved?"

Maybe the answer is that the **legal event** follows a prior spiritual condition or choice. A person's behavior can express whether he is acting as a free person or as someone who is already enslaved to a desire.

Chazal have the expression **"עבדא בהפקירא ניחא ליה"**, that an eved may prefer an unrestrained way of life, and they analyze the status and habits connected with servitude. [The Gemara's exact setting and its application here should be checked; this is a mussar application and not a characterization of real people by social status.]

Suppose a person steals because he is overpowered by what he wants. Maybe that is itself a kind of **avdus**. The fact that he is later sold to pay the theft is the outward consequence.

And now we understand another aspect of **"כי לי בני ישראל עבדים"** (Vayikra 25:55). A Yid belongs to the Ribbono Shel Olam. If he truly lives as an **eved Hashem**, he is not meant to become an eved to every other power.

It is not simply **"I am an eved because somebody has power over me."** The person must ask which power he has allowed to become his master.

### The Difference Between a Free Man and an Eved

You can have a person who is employed, has responsibilities, earns a salary, and does everything his boss tells him within the terms of his job. That doesn't necessarily make him spiritually enslaved.

And you can have a person who has no employer at all but cannot resist his **taivos**, his desires. He may be a free man in the legal sense but an eved in his inner life.

So what are we thanking Hashem for? We are thanking Him for the gift and possibility of **true freedom**, a madreigah of being able to live according to Torah rather than merely being pushed by our impulses.

When you wake up and say **"shelo asani eved"**, think of the enormous distinction: **physical circumstances matter, but real freedom also concerns the person you become.**

Now let's examine a fascinating question about the **eved Ivri** who wishes to remain with his master. It will show how easily we can become attached to the very thing that limits our freedom.

## The Eved Ivri and the Bondage of Parnassah

Now we come back to the **eved Ivri**. He serves his master, and the time arrives when he is entitled to go free. Yet the Torah says he may declare:

**"אהבתי את אדני את אשתי ואת בני לא אצא חפשי"** (Shemos 21:5).

I love my master, my wife and my children. I will not go out free.

Why is that such a problem? The Gemara explains the piercing of the ear that heard at Har Sinai, **"כי לי בני ישראל עבדים"**—My servants, not servants of servants (Kiddushin 22b).

But I saw a powerful kashya in **Michtav MeEliyahu**, in a discussion cited as volume one, page 28.

What do you expect from this man? He has an arrangement that provides for his livelihood. He has a family. He has responsibilities. If he walks away, how will he support them?

Do you know anyone who is not somehow **meshubad** to parnassah? Every person has a job, a business, a family to support, obligations and deadlines. Even the boss is tied to his employees. Everybody is dependent on other people in one way or another.

So why is the servant criticized for wanting to remain in an arrangement that seems to meet his needs?

That's a gevaldige kashya.

And before bringing the answer of Michtav MeEliyahu, let me add a **svara of my own**.

Look at what the servant says. **"אהבתי את אדני"**—I **love** my master.

Maybe that is the point. The problem is not merely that he must work for a living. We all have to support our families. The problem is when the **bondage itself becomes what he loves**.

You can be employed, work long hours, and fulfill your obligations without giving your heart and identity to your employer. You can support a family while remaining inwardly an **eved Hashem**.

But if you come to **love the shibud**, if you begin to identify your very life with serving another power, the relationship has gone too far.

You are no longer merely working. **You have become an eved to the work itself.**

That's why I notice the word **"ahavti"**. The servant doesn't merely say, "I need the income for my family." He says he **loves** remaining with his master.

And I want to suggest that this may help explain why the Torah finds his desire to remain so troubling.

You can be in business, rabosai. You can make parnassah. I'm not telling everybody to stop working! But don't make money or your job the **ideal** to which you surrender everything.

**"כי לי בני ישראל עבדים"**. Your deepest allegiance belongs to the Ribbono Shel Olam.

### Michtav MeEliyahu: Who Is Really Your Master?

And the Michtav MeEliyahu develops this with tremendous sharpness. A person can say, "My livelihood leaves me no choice." But if the person begins to treat **money as his real master**, he has made parnassah an excuse for avdus.

The world is always saying, **"In God We Trust."** You see those words printed on American money. But which **god** is a person trusting?

For a Yid, those words should mean the **Ribbono Shel Olam**. But sometimes a person practically behaves as though he trusts the **dollar bill itself**!

I heard a sharp remark along those lines and don't want to assign an uncertain name to it. The point is obvious. A person may speak about Hashem while actually allowing the pursuit of money to run his entire life.

You have to know when to say **yes** and when to say **no**. When the demands of business have gone too far, when they crowd out the obligations of Torah, of family, and of being a Yid, a person has to recognize the danger.

He must not forget: **I work for parnassah, but I am not an eved to parnassah.**

And this is one of the possible meanings of the brachah **"shelo asani eved"**. Thank You, Ribbono Shel Olam, for the capacity to be free even while fulfilling the genuine responsibilities of life.

But money isn't the only thing that can enslave a person. There is something even closer: **his own taivos**.

## A Person Can Be a Slave to His Own Desires

Rabosai, we have been speaking about money and parnassah. But **avdus** is not limited to work or to a human master.

A person can become an **eved to his taivos**, to what he wants, to the demands of his yetzer hara.

He says, **"I must have this. I can't manage without it."**

But why? Who told you that you must obey every desire that comes into your mind?

Sometimes we dress everything up in a sophisticated language. We give a name to every struggle and every weakness. But for purposes of mussar, I want to ask the simple question: **who is in control?**

I am not discussing the medical definition or treatment of an addiction. Real addiction can require professional care. I am speaking here about the broader spiritual habit of giving every *ratzon* the power of a command.

The **Sforno**, in his commentary on the **nazir**, speaks about the person who separates himself from certain ordinary pleasures and dedicates himself to Hashem. Nezirus can be understood as separating oneself from the pull of physical desires. [The exact Sforno wording and verse on nezirus require checking.]

Many people imagine that freedom means being able to do **whatever one wants**. But what if what you want is controlling you? If your impulses decide how you live and you cannot say no, are you free?

*Dos iz nisht frei!* That's not freedom.

You are an **eved**—not to a human master, but to the desires that have become your master.

A person has a **daas**, a mind and judgment. He can say, "I want this, but I don't have to follow it. I have another purpose and another standard by which to live."

That ability to choose is a form of freedom.

### A Teaching of the Chofetz Chaim

I saw a beautiful teaching attributed to the **Chofetz Chaim** concerning the parashah of an **eved Ivri**.

The Torah says:

**"וכי ימכר איש את בתו לאמה לא תצא כצאת העבדים"** (Shemos 21:7).

The Chofetz Chaim uses a spiritual analogy, drawing on teachings associated with the **Zohar**. The **daughter**, the *bas*, can represent the **neshamah**. A person's spiritual self is precious and deserves to be nurtured rather than left trapped beneath the demands of the guf.

The verse can then be heard as a warning: **don't let the neshamah leave this world in a condition of servitude**. Make sure it is free to express its own longing for kedushah.

I am giving you the teaching in the form I saw it quoted. [The precise Chofetz Chaim work and Zohar reference were not identified from the transcription; the analogy must be marked as an attributed derush, not a verified literal interpretation of Shemos 21:7.]

Think what a neshamah wants! It wants Torah. It wants mitzvos. It wants to be close to the Ribbono Shel Olam.

And the person may spend his whole day feeding the needs of the **guf** while starving his neshamah. He gives his body everything it wants but hardly gives his soul the room to live.

Maybe that is why a person sometimes feels inwardly restricted or unhappy even though his external circumstances appear comfortable. Perhaps the neshamah wants something which the guf is not allowing it to have.

Again, I am giving a mussar thought, not an explanation of every person's emotions or mental health. The point is that **physical abundance is not the same as spiritual freedom**.

**"כי לי בני ישראל עבדים"**—we are servants of Hashem. And by being servants of Hashem, we can become free from service to our own lower impulses.

### Hefkerus Is Not Freedom

Chazal use the phrase **"עבדא בהפקירא ניחא ליה"**, that an eved may prefer living without constraints.

Now that sounds paradoxical. A person seems content to remain a servant, but also wants **hefkerus**, a life without discipline. How do those two things go together?

But I want you to see that they can be two sides of the same problem.

A person thinks freedom means **there are no boundaries**. He gives himself over to every desire and calls that being free. In reality, the desires have become the master.

Real freedom means that **you** can decide how to live according to Torah, rather than being pushed around by every taivah.

So when you say **"shelo asani eved,"** ask yourself, "Am I an eved to my guf? Am I an eved to my parnassah? Am I an eved to what I want right now?"

The brachah should remind us that we have been given the potential to live on a higher madreigah.

But now I want to bring out another type of avdus, one that I have thought about for many years.

A person can be enslaved **to what other people think of him**.

## The Most Subtle Avdus: Being a Slave to Other People's Opinions

Rabosai, I have a thought I want to tell you. It is something I've thought about a great deal.

What does it mean to be an **eved avadim**—a slave of slaves? Perhaps, as a *mussar remez*, one could say that it describes a person who spends his life enslaved to **other people**: to what they think, how they see him, and what they will say about him.

A man gets dressed, and what is he thinking? "What will they say?"

He chooses how to speak, and what is he thinking? "How will they look at me?"

He decides whether to do something right or wrong, and again the question is, **"Vos zogt yenner?"** What will the other fellow say?

When is he ever free to be **himself**?

And that is a tremendous avdus. It isn't visible the way chains are visible, but it can be just as powerful in shaping the person.

There is a familiar halachic expression about an eved: **"מה שקנה עבד קנה רבו"**—what a slave acquires belongs to his master. In that relationship, the servant's independent capacity to own is limited.

Now take that as a mashal. A person whose entire life is controlled by other people's approval may feel that there is almost **no independent self left**. His decisions aren't his; his values aren't his; everything belongs to the judgment of other people.

But that is not how a Yid is supposed to live.

**"כי לי בני ישראל עבדים"**. Hashem wants us to be His avadim, not **avadim la'avadim**. The question to ask is not **"What will they think?"** but **"What does the Ribbono Shel Olam want?"**

That doesn't mean a Yid should be inconsiderate or should never care how his actions affect other people. We certainly have obligations of derech eretz and of avoiding chilul Hashem. But there is a difference between those Torah obligations and surrendering one's entire identity to social approval.

I found this thought developed in **Alei Shur**, by **Rav Shlomo Wolbe**, in connection with **"shelo asani eved"**. He asks, how many of us can genuinely say that we are not enslaved to what others think and how they behave? [The exact volume and page of Alei Shur need printed-text verification.]

That is a very powerful way to hear the brachah every morning.

Thank You, Hashem, for the possibility of freedom from all these inner forms of slavery. Freedom to live according to what **I know to be right because You commanded it**, rather than copying everyone around me.

## A Question About the Nature of Freedom

We live in a world full of movements calling for **freedom**. People understand how precious freedom is. They want freedom in the workplace, freedom in their personal lives, freedom from domination.

But often the proposed definition of freedom becomes **hefkerus**—doing whatever one wants without responsibility.

That isn't necessarily freedom. A person who is unable to say no to his own impulses may be just as enslaved as a person who is unable to say no to another human being.

True freedom requires being able to **choose**.

A Yid has a neshamah, daas and a purpose. He must have the independence to act according to Torah even when other people don't understand him.

And that is why being an **eved Hashem** is not a contradiction to being a **ben chorin**. It's the very foundation of spiritual freedom.

Now let me end with a ma'aseh that happened in a yeshivah. It shows how intensely a person can become dependent on what everybody else is doing—even when it makes no sense.

## "If Everyone Jumped Off the Roof, Would You?"

I was once sitting with two other rabbeim when a **bachur** was called into the room. He had done something he shouldn't have done, and the rabbeim asked him why.

He answered, **"I wasn't the only one! Everyone did it!"**

Now you know the famous response every parent and menahel gives: **"If everyone jumped off the roof, would you jump off the roof too?"**

Afterward, I took one of the rabbeim aside and said, "You know, that may not be such a good mashal today, because perhaps they actually **would** jump!"

The point is serious. When a person allows his judgment to be completely ruled by **what everybody else is doing**, he may go along with things that he himself recognizes are foolish or wrong.

And that is the avdus I want you to understand. You're not serving a master in the legal sense, but **you've let other people's behavior become your master**.

A Yid has to know how to stand on his own feet.

## We Are Meant to Live on a Higher Madreigah

But somebody could misunderstand this and say, "So I don't have to care what people think. If I want to ignore social conventions, I can do whatever I like!"

No, no, rabosai. That is not what I am saying.

A Yid has obligations not to cause **chilul Hashem**, to act with **derech eretz**, and to live in a way that reflects the Ribbono Shel Olam.

I once asked **Rav Yosef Rosenblum**, alav hashalom, a question about ordinary public behavior. If a Yid does something inconsiderate—runs a red light, cuts in line, or behaves badly in public—and an observer criticizes him specifically as a Jew, is that necessarily a **chilul Hashem**?

What if non-Jews do the very same thing? Why should the criticism fall on him because he is a Yid?

I wanted to understand the geder.

Rav Rosenblum told me that a Yid has to act on a **higher madreigah**, even where a certain behavior is common in the world. We represent Hashem, and that places additional demands upon us. [The exact oral wording and context of this exchange require verification; the reported guidance should not be reduced to a universal psak about each traffic or public-behavior case.]

There is a story I heard about a Yid who responded to being insulted with the words **"You Jew!"** by treating the words as a compliment, because he was proud to be a Jew. For a time, he even gave a coin to the person who called him that! The story relates that people began doing it just to get paid, so he realized that wasn't a very sustainable practice.

I am telling that as a humorous *ma'aseh*, not giving a practical recommendation or authenticating the names in the version preserved in the transcription.

The deeper point is that a Yid should not be driven by the world's opinions. But he should also be aware that **his actions represent something higher**.

A person may say, "I want to be normal; I want to do whatever everybody else does." I say, perhaps our goal shouldn't be simply to be normal. We are supposed to live on a **higher standard**.

There are two ways to be different. You can behave strangely for no reason, or you can be different because you are living with **kedushah, honesty, sensitivity and yiras Shamayim**.

We want the second kind.

## The Brachah Every Morning

So, rabosai, we come back to **"ברוך אתה ה' אלקינו מלך העולם שלא עשני עבד."**

What are we thanking Hashem for?

We thank Him that He took us out of **Mitzrayim**, out of physical bondage.

We thank Him for the capacity not to become an **eved to money**, not to let parnassah become the master of our entire life.

We thank Him for the ability not to be an **eved to taivos**, a person driven helplessly by every desire.

And we thank Him that we can be free from the avdus of **other people's opinions**.

A Yid has to be free to be a **Yid**!

Every morning, when you say **"shelo asani eved,"** think: **I am free to live according to what the Ribbono Shel Olam wants. I am not an eved to what other people think or say.**

I have a neshamah. I have Torah. I have a purpose. I can make my own choices in accordance with the will of Hashem.

That is the brachah I want you to appreciate.

And, rabosai, please remember that this shiur should be a zechus for **Rav Yehuda ben Rivka Leah**, that the Ribbono Shel Olam grant him a **refuah sheleimah**.

Have a good night.

[The original recording concludes without a new source beyond the closing teaching; distributor audio is omitted from the publication text.]