5786/2026
During Maggid, we recite: “BeChol Dor VaDor, Chayav Adam LiRot Et Atzmo, Ke’Ilu Hu Yatza MeMitzrayim” — In every generation, each person must see himself as if he himself had come out of Egypt. But the compilers of the Haggadah chose the word LiRot, to see. To see makes a much stronger claim of each person than just remembering. Thus, the question arises: What does it mean to “see yourself” as if you left Egypt?
Today, we, the descendants of that generation that did leave Egypt, cannot possibly “see” ourselves in their shoes. At this point, it seems like hyperbole. But, regardless, this theory remains unlikely. There must be a deeper meaning that makes this genuinely applicable.
First, we must explain what Mitzrayim represents. Mitzrayim is rooted in meitzar, a narrow, constricted place. In a metaphorical sense, Mitzrayim is a state of being. While the Shibud, bondage, may be physical, it is also a mentality that was imprinted upon every Jew. As slaves, we had no choice, no voice, and no future. If we understand Mitzrayim this way, we can apply this to modern times, that each person has their own meitzar: a fear, habit, or anything limiting. Lirot Et Atzmo has a deeper obligation. It doesn’t require us to pretend or fake something that we are not, rather it asks us to identify our own Mitzrayim. In this manner, Pesach becomes an annual Cheshbon HaNefesh.
Yetzi’at Mitzrayim wasn’t instantaneous. It was a long process that took a year from the time of Moshe’s revelation at the burning bush to Matan Torah. Similarly, personal redemption is also a process. The Seder night is a moment of decision. Yetzi’at Mitzrayim doesn’t culminate in Yam Suf, but only completes itself with the giving of the Torah. The Gemara tells us that Nissan is the Rosh HaShanah for kings (Rosh HaShanah 2a). At the Seder, we see ourselves become kings through our Minhagim (namely, leaning when drinking the Arba Kosot). It is a time of self-introspection to raise ourselves to the spiritual level of kings before Hashem. And through this process, we count 49 days of the Omer, days of refinement that show that freedom is the beginning, not the end. And it is for this reason that Hashem tells us that by receiving and accepting the Torah at Sinai, we will rise and become Mamlechet Kohanim ViGoy Kadosh - part of G-d’s kingdom, and a holy nation. This is Pesach’s culmination.
Let us take a step back. Mitzrayim is a mentality. Hashem provides many opportunities while we are still in Egypt to break free. Hashem commands us to roast the Korban Pesach. The Chizkuni tells us that by roasting it whole, it is a slow, lengthy process, which wafts the scent around Egypt. It makes it obvious to all of the Egyptians that we are roasting their ‘god’. This explains why the sheep were taken in on the 10th of Nissan, as the cries (bah-bah-ing) of the sheep would be heard by the Egyptian neighbors. By degrading the Egyptian god, Bnei Yisrael were, in turn, refusing to assimilate to the horrid Egyptian culture. By breaking free from this mentality, the Jews were able to build their own national identity. We find this connection by the commandment of Rosh Chodesh as well. The famous question is asked, why is Rosh Chodesh the first Mitzvah given to Bnei Yisrael, not something that seems more fundamental, such as Shema or from the Aseret HaDibrot? Rav Shimshon Rephael Hirsch explains that use of the moon for the calendar rejects the Egyptian sun ‘god’ and separates us from MiKol Ha’Amim. But the Seforno takes this a step deeper. He proposes that time and structure define Judaism. As slaves, we did not control our time. Now, by sanctifying the months ourselves, we break free from the mental chains that make up Mitzrayim. In both of these examples, it is clear that Hashem is setting us free, not just physically, but psychologically.
With all of this in mind, we can grasp the meaning of LiRot Et Atzmo, Ke’Ilu Hu Yatza MeMitzrayim. It is not just in the past, but in the present. Whether it is a physical Mitzrayim or a mental one, there is and always will be a meitzar that each of us carries. The Seder night is Hashem's annual invitation to name it, face it, and begin leaving it. But leaving is just the start. In the same way that Yetzi’at Mitzrayim did not end at the Yam Suf, leaving Metzarot behind doesn’t end when we identify our constriction. It takes the 49 days of the Omer with refinement and growth just to stand at Sinai. Because freedom without clear direction is wandering, meaning that our goal was never simply to escape Egypt: it was to become Mamlechet Kohanim ViGoy Kadosh. This process goes one day at a time.
At the Seder, we may recline like kings, but to truly realize that in actuality, we must first, “Lirot”, see ourselves honestly, and only then can we be Mekabel the Torah as the person that utilized their potential and became who they were meant to become. The Haggadah asks us not to pretend, but to do something harder: look inward, identify our own Mitzrayim, and choose to start walking out.