The Descent After the Ascent
On Pesach we were reborn, lifted to sublime spiritual heights, dwelling in a reality that transcended the natural order of time. This elevated state continued to unfold and intensify until Shevi’i shel Pesach — the moment the sea split before us and the gates of life, a foretaste of Olam Haba, were flung open wide. Yet the very next day after Shevi’i shel Pesach, we descend and return to this coarse, mundane world. We must reflect deeply on the message this conveys: how can we plummet so abruptly from such transcendent peaks?
The Reading of Krias Yam Suf — and What Follows
When we examine the Torah reading for Shevi’i shel Pesach, we notice that it does not conclude with the words “And Miriam the prophetess, the sister of Aharon, took a timbrel in her hand.” Instead, we continue immediately to “And they went out into the desert of Shur; they walked for three days in the wilderness but did not find water. They came to Marah, but they could not drink water from Marah because it was bitter” (Shemos 15:22-23).
At first glance, it might seem more appropriate to end with the miracle of Krias HaYam. Why, then, do we press on to read of Klal Yisrael’s complaint at Marah?
Water symbolizes life itself — as in the phrase mayim chaim, living waters. At the moment of Krias HaYam, Klal Yisrael existed entirely within the world of the Borei Yisborach. But after a mere three days of travel in this world, they discovered that the waters were bitter. The vitality they had tasted at Krias Yam Suf proved incompatible with ordinary existence here. Such a mode of life belongs to Olam Haba, not to this world — and therefore they could not drink.
Bitter Sweetened by Bitter — The Deeper Message
The nisayon at Marah was precisely intended to reveal to Klal Yisrael where they truly stood. The life of Olam Haba is not sustainable in Olam Hazeh. Here, there is kashyas oref—stubbornness, self-assertion, the drive of personal will seeking to assert and act. In this world, we do not dwell solely in the reality of the Borei Yisborach; rather, we encounter challenges, struggles, and conflicting desires that pull us in opposing directions.
Yet, the depth of the formation of Klal Yisrael combines within it a wondrous dual capacity: on one hand, the ability to stand beside the Borei Yisborach and exist fully within His reality; on the other, to be strong-willed, independent, and endowed with genuine free choice. Our avodah is to engage deeply with our lives in this world and to continually elevate them toward the higher plane to which we truly belong at our core.
From this parshah we learn that the Yamim Tovim reveal to us the depth of the bond, the sense of belonging, and the exalted place that Klal Yisrael holds in relation to the Borei Yisborach. During the Yom Tov, we are granted a conception of ourselves as belonging so intimately to Him that we stand, as it were, at the very side of the Borei Yisborach. Yet in the end, the primary arena of our avodah is this world—and already after a mere three days of travel, we return to a world of kashyas oref, of ups and downs, of struggle and challenge. And our avodah is to strive upward toward those elevated places where we stood during the Yamim Tovim.
This is the profound meaning of Chazal’s teaching (Tanchuma, Beshalach 24): The tree Moshe used to sweeten the waters was itself bitter, and Hakadosh Baruch Hu sweetened mar b’mar—bitter with bitter. Had the bitterness been sweetened with something sweet, it would imply, as it were, that this bitter world remains forever unchangeable in its essence—that it cannot be elevated or rectified—and therefore sweetness is needed. But sweetening bitter with bitter teaches us that even this world, with all its inherent challenges, can be uplifted through avodah and through a deeper, more penetrating perspective on everyday life.
The Purpose of Ordinary Days
At times we experience a profound sense of loss: After such elevated Yamim Tovim, how do we return to the plainness of routine existence? Yet we must recognize that this return is itself the very essence of our life’s avodah. It is precisely in the days of
routine that we are called upon to sweeten mar b’mar.
Right after the Yamim Tovim, we re-enter the reality of ordinary life and are summoned to labor within it — to sweeten bitter with bitter, and to discover how even in simple, unadorned existence we can ascend yet another level and connect ourselves to something higher and more exalted.
The Yamim Tovim occupy only a small fraction of the year; the greater part consists of ordinary, routine days. Therefore, the primary arena of our avodah throughout life is precisely those plain, undistinguished days. The role of the Yamim Tovim is to grant us periodic glimpses of the greatness and romemus—the sublime elevation—to which we inherently belong. But we do not remain there. Immediately afterward, we return to the dry, ordinary days of routine, and we exert ourselves to advance the avodah of those days toward a more elevated and sacred plane — to sweeten our lives through mar b’mar.
It is specifically through this mode of avodah that we ultimately merit to arrive at Mattan Torah and kabbalas hamitzvos — receiving the mitzvos that guide us in elevating the entirety of life itself to a place of greater kedushah and sublime holiness.