Reply To: Dvar Torah for Pesach (Seder) New hesber in eating Matzah and Ha Lachma Anya

This relates to what you wrote.

Encircled With Love:
ויסב אלקים את העם דרך המדבר ים סוף
G-d led the people roundabout, by way of the wilderness at the Sea of Reeds (Shemos 13:18).
The Midrash (Shemos Rabbah 20:18) says that we can learn a halachah from the word “Vayaseiv – And He led roundabout.” At the Seder, even a poor person is required to eat in a reclining position. The word for reclining, heseibah, has the same shoresh as vayaseiv: י.ס.ב.
While the letters are the same, the similarity seems to end there. י.ס.ב. in our context means roundabout (as in a dreidel, a סביבון), while in hilchos Pesach it means to recline. Additionally, where do we see anything pertaining to a pauper in our pasuk?
It says in the previous pasuk (13:17), that Hashem did not lead the Bnei Yisrael by way of the land of the Pelishtim, so the Jews would not be afraid when they see a war and want to return to Egypt. My father (see also Ke’Motzei Shalal Rav, which cites the Chasam Sofer; and Bircas Yitzchak) explained that the reason for vayaseiv, for the circuitous route, was in order to avoid the civilized and even inhabited lands. The Al-mighty wanted us to learn and become accustomed to the true value of a Jew. Rather than becoming preoccupied with amassing material wealth, a person should be involved in more ethereal and lofty goals. For a Jew, success means having a close relationship with Hashem and leading a life committed to the Torah and its precepts. In fact, the very nature of real freedom is dependent on this, as the Mishnah in Avos (6:2) tells us: “Ein lecha ben chorin ella mi she’oseik be’salmud Torah – There is no free man but the one who engages in the study of Torah.”
When the Jews left Egypt, they were free from the bondage of slavery, but they needed to be freed from the bondage of self – and not remain caught up in pursuing pleasure. Only after living 40 years in the proving grounds of the desert, with no physical pleasures, were they able to enter Eretz Yisrael and live a life based on agriculture and commerce. During the time spent in the desert, the Jews learned the importance of limiting one’s preoccupation with financial gain, and the need to focus one’s energies on moral and spiritual excellence.
In a comparable vein, the Midrash (Shemos Rabbah 20:15) explains that the Jews were not yet trained in mitzvos, specifically those pertaining to Eretz Yisrael. For this reason, Hashem said that He would first give them the Torah and then bring them into the Land.
We now understand the correlation between our pasuk and the halachah that even a poor person must recline. When one learns this lesson – that a person’s freedom and true worth are dependent on his ability to serve Hashem and study his Torah – then even the most downtrodden among us have cause to celebrate, for they recognize their value as part of a holy nation; their nobility is not determined by dollars and cents, but in Torah and mitzvos.
The poor person who reclines like royalty on Pesach is a testament to this value. A Jew, notwithstanding his circumstances, is a royal and deserves to act and be treated as one. Hashem took us out of Egypt in a roundabout manner to teach us that even nomads living in a desert can receive the Torah and be deemed holy by Hashem. And halachah demands that we acknowledge our nobility by reclining at the Seder.
Perhaps, based on this, the mindset of the obligation to provide for the poor person should not be: “Oy, a poor fellow. He’s so needy,” but “Ah, a fellow royal. He deserves nothing less than I!”
Thus far, we’ve understood the word vayaseiv as describing the route we had traveled, under Hashem’s directive. The first part of the above Midrash, however, explains the word in a different manner: that Hashem surrounded us when we left Egypt. The Eitz Yosef on the Midrash explains that He surrounded us with the Ananei HaKavod, Clouds of Glory.
This, again, begs the question: What does being surrounded by heavenly clouds have to do with a mendicant man leaning at the Seder?
Rav Bentzion Feinhandler, in his sefer Gei Chazon, explains that the Ananei HaKavod were so named because they brought kavod, honor, and pride to those sheltered within. Beyond the protection they afforded, they were a display of Hashem’s love toward us. Unlike the Manna and the Well, this was one ongoing miracle that was unnecessary. He took us into a desert; He had to provide us with the essentials. But providing us with an air-conditioned environment was going above and beyond the call of even His duty. So, more than a safeguard or shelter, the Clouds were a sign of His special relationship with us.
This is one way to explain why we have the holiday of Succos to commemorate the Clouds, but no corresponding holiday to commemorate the Manna or Well. Hashem must provide the necessities of life, as Middas HaDin would dictate. The Clouds, however, were a welcome but unneeded bonus, a true sign of His love and a manifestation of His Middas HaChesed.
We are special; look how He treated us! Everyone, even those without riches or rank, was afforded the glory and pride the Clouds conveyed.
Thus, at the Seder, we celebrate this singular honor by acting as royalty and reclining like kings. This is in remembrance of the kavod and regard that Hashem displayed for us when He took us out of Egypt.
We can do no less.