“ויאמר ד’ אל משה נטה ידך על השמים ויהי חשך על ארץ מצרים וימש חשך.”
רש”י: “…ומדרש אגדה פותרו לשון (דברים כח כט) ממשש בצהרים, שהיה כפול ומכופל ועב עד שהיה בו ממש.”
Rashi: “…The Medrash Aggadah explains (the word “וימש”) from the term ‘to feel one’s way at noonday’, as the darkness was doubled and redoubled until it had substance.”
Darkness is neither felt nor seen. It can be defined as a lack of perception, and in a broader sense implies a lack of awareness and comprehension. At Makkas Choshech, the darkness gained substance, yet it remained “darkness”: a מציאות of העדר— a positive reality of lack. What was the message behind this self-contradictory phenomenon?
In what regard did the darkness of Makkas Choshech possess substance? In the sense that it took up space, allowing nothing to enter. If you would point a flashlight at that darkness, the beam of light could not enter the “lack”. During the second half of the makkah, nothing at all could pierce through the darkness, and so the Egyptians were unable to move. This ‘darkest dark’—a darkness impenetrable, a void unfillable—was a poignant illustration of the darkness of Paroah and the Egyptians, unaffected by the miraculous revelation taking place before their eyes.
All רע is in truth the absence of ‘הארת פניו ית – the light of Hashem’s “countenance”. But it is also a reality in itself, following its own rules and mehalech. What is frightening is that at times, like the darkness of Egypt, it does not allow the light to enter; the maxim “מעט מן האור דוחה הרבה מן חשך” – a little of the light banishes much of the darkness—does not seem to apply. Some of us have confronted this reality in encounters with Western culture. At times, we attempt to introduce and reveal kedusha in a certain area, only to find that kedusha is not only lacking, but actually repelled: a מציאות of העדר.
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Whereas the Egyptians were plunged into darkness, the passuk relates that “ולכל בני ישראל היה אור במושבתם” – But for all of Bnei Yisroel there was light in their dwellings. With Makkas Choshech, the distinction between Yisroel and Egypt was complete: the essence of Egypt was impenetrable darkness, of Yisroel, light.
At times, Yisroel, either as an individual or a group, finds itself in a state of darkness. But because our true essence is one of light, that darkness is never the ‘darkest dark’ of Egypt. There is always a path for light to enter, and when that path is found, a little light will indeed banish much of the darkness. We are seeing this today, as many Jews who were previously far from Yiddishkeit are drawing closer to the Borei Olam in simple but powerful ways. Men and women who would have dismissed even the possibility, are discovering that they connect to Emunah, Kriyas Shema and more. The seemingly impenetrable, “thick” darkness they were living in was abruptly dispelled. They thought “I can’t say Shema—I don’t keep Shabbos!” But that’s a fallicy, and now they are saying Shema. Many others thought, “I can’t wear tzitzis – I don’t even wear a kippah!” But that’s also not true. Indeed, that has become common sight in Israel: tzitzis without a kippah.
Albeit in less drastic circumstances, we too make the same mistake. We get off to a bad start and we give up on a seder/ day/ life. Or we assume that a lack of success in one area will translate into failure elsewhere. When confronted with darkness, don’t give up— be creative. There is always room for the light, we only need to find the way.