Blood. Its connotations and symbolism are rich, pointing to both life and death. Blood also plays a central role in the birth of the Jewish nation. Our member Rabbi Paul Bloom explains:
The night of the Exodus was not merely the end of slavery. It was the birth of a nation.
“Mishchu”—The First Word of Redemption
Moshe Rabbeinu introduces the command of the Korban Pesach
with a striking phrase:
מִשְׁכוּ וּקְחוּ לָכֶם צֹאן לְמִשְׁפְּחֹתֵיכֶם
וְשַׁחֲטוּ הַפָּסַח
“Draw forth and take for yourselves a lamb for your families, and slaughter the Pesach offering” (Shemot 12:21)
The word מִשְׁכוּ (mishchu) is unusual. It does not simply mean “take.” In Biblical and rabbinic Hebrew, it means to be drawn toward, to be attracted, to form a bond. In Shir HaShirim, the language of love between the Beloved and the beloved, we find the same root:
מָשְׁכֵנִי אַחֲרֶיךָ נָּרוּצָה
“Draw me after You—let us run” (Shir HaShirim 1:4).
To be redeemed, the Jewish people were not merely commanded to perform a technical act. They were commanded to be drawn toward a mitzvah—to engage emotionally, spiritually, and existentially. Yet Chazal point out something profound. The very same root, מ־ש־ך, can also mean the opposite: to withdraw, to disengage. In later Hebrew usage, limshoch et yadayim means to resign, to step back. This dual meaning reveals a deep truth about human transformation: One cannot be drawn toward holiness unless one is also willing to disengage from what contradicts it. Klal Yisrael had to be drawn toward the Korban Pesach—and simultaneously withdraw from the idolatry of Egypt. As the Midrash teaches, the gods of Egypt were lambs. To take a lamb, tie it to the bedpost, and slaughter it publicly was an act of spiritual rebellion. Redemption required courage, separation, and clarity.
The Tragedy of Those Who Could Not Let Go
Chazal tell us that not all Jews were able to make this
break. Many had become deeply assimilated—emotionally invested in Egyptian
culture, success, and belief systems. They could not disengage, and therefore
they could not engage. During the plague of darkness, they perished unseen.
Rashi explains: Why was darkness brought? Because there were
wicked Israelites in that generation who did not want to leave Egypt, and they
died during the days of darkness, so that the Egyptians would not see them and
say, “They too are being afflicted like us.” Midrash Tanchuma adds that these
Jews were comfortable, respected, and prosperous in exile. They did not want
redemption. This is a sobering truth: redemption is offered to all, but
embraced only by those willing to leave exile behind.
Redemption Requires Mitzvot
There is another obstacle that had to be addressed. The
prophet Yechezkel describes the moment of redemption with startling imagery:
וָאֶעֱבֹר עָלַיִךְ וָאֶרְאֵךְ מִתְבּוֹסֶסֶת בְּדָמָיִךְ…
וָאֹמַר לָךְ בְּדָמַיִךְ חֲיִי
“I passed by you and saw you wallowing in your blood… and I said to you: By your blood, live” (Yechezkel 16:6).
Rashi explains: They were naked of mitzvot. Redemption was ready—but the people were not yet worthy recipients. A fundamental principle emerges: even when God wishes to bestow infinite kindness, we must create vessels to receive it. Those vessels are mitzvot. Two mitzvot were given at that moment: Korban Pesach and Brit Milah.
Blood That Gives Life
Blood usually signifies loss of life. Here, it signifies
life itself.
וָאֹמַר לָךְ בְּדָמַיִךְ חֲיִי – בְּדַם פֶּסַח
וּבְדַם מִילָה
“By your blood, live—by the blood of Pesach and the blood of circumcision.”
A national revival of Brit Milah took place in Egypt because no uncircumcised male could partake of the Pesach offering. These were not passive merits, such as not changing names or clothing. As the Kli Yakar explains, redemption requires active mitzvot, not merely restraint. These two mitzvot transformed a group of slaves into Am Yisrael.
Inner and Outer Strength
The Chatam Sofer offers a penetrating insight. Brit Milah
represents mastery over the inner negative forces—ego, jealousy, desire, and
aggression. It is a covenant inscribed upon the body itself. Korban Pesach
represents resistance to external corruption—the rejection of foreign gods,
values, and identities. Redemption demands both. The Maharal deepens this
further. He distinguishes between mitzvot of doing and mitzvot of being. Many
mitzvot involve actions we perform. Brit Milah defines who we are. It is not
something we do repeatedly; it is something that defines our identity forever.
Darkness and Destiny
The plague of darkness was not only punishment—it was
separation. Those who could not envision a future in the land of destiny could
not survive the transition. Chazal debate how many Jews left Egypt—one-fifth,
one-fiftieth, even fewer. Whatever the number, the message is clear: comfort in
exile can be more dangerous than oppression. Yet God, Who sees beyond the
present, preserved those who—even while flawed—would soon stand at Sinai and
proclaim:
נַעֲשֶׂה וְנִשְׁמָע
“We will do, and we will hear.”
A Template for All Redemption
The redemption from Egypt is the blueprint for every
redemption—national and personal. It begins with mishchu: disengaging
from inner and outer negativity, and being drawn toward covenant, mitzvah, and
destiny. God is always willing to give. The question is not whether redemption
will come—but whether we are ready to receive it. And when we are, He says to
us again:
בְּדָמַיִךְ חֲיִי
“By your blood, live.”
