I am Hashem Elokecha who has taken you out of the land of Mitzrayim.[1]
A medrash finds the origins of the Shema in this opening pasuk of the Aseres Hadibros. Hashem opened, by saying, “Hear Yisrael! Hashem Elokecha took you out of Egypt.” The Bnei Yisrael responded with, “Hashem is One!” Moshe reacted with, “The Name of the kavod of His kingship is forever!” What could this possibly mean?
We can find the answer in the gemara[2] that contrasts our reaction to disturbing news in present times and in the future. In our day, when we hear such tidings, we pronounce the berachah of dayan ha-emes. We accept Hashem’s din, and justify it. We cannot always understand it, but we are confident that He never acts unjustly. After our future redemption, however, we will react to such news the same way we do to joyful news. We will praise Him for His goodness, and His sharing that goodness with us mortals. We will fully understand that everything He does is not only just, but is for the good. Another way of looking at this is that the apparent difference between Hashem’s din and His rachamim will disappear. We will fully understand that it is all rachamim. Today, we can utter the words as fact, but we certainly can’t process the bad times as a Divine favor.
In our pasuk, “Hashem Elokecha” invokes Names of both rachamim and din. The Bnei Yisrael felt the brunt of din for many long years in Mitzrayim. In their redemption, they experienced His rachamim. Both din and rachamim played a role.
How did the Bnei Yisrael react to Hashem’s pointing to both of His midos? They said, “Hashem echad!” Hashem is truly One. There is no difference between these seemingly opposite manifestations. The pain and suffering were actually a chesed. Through them, they were refined, purified, turned into a people who were capable of receiving the Torah a short seven weeks after the Exodus. Moshe reflected on their reaction. If they can understand that there was no essential difference between Hashem and Elokim, then the true Name of the kavod of His kingship – the four-letter Name of rachamim – can be declared forever.
We can see this thought reflected in our haftorah. “Nachamu, nachamu ami.” A person who suffered terribly will often be comforted with the passage of time. His consolation, however, is not complete. Memories of his past prevail still trouble him; the sting is not fully eliminated. Yeshayah here tells the people that they can expect a two-fold consolation in the end of days. With the dawn of redemption, they will be consoled for the horrors of millennia of galus. Moreover, they will come to understand the purpose of that exile, and how it was necessary for their survival as a people. They will grasp its role in addressing their sins. Without the kapparah that galus brought, their sins would have demanded their extinction.
Thus, the navi continues: “Proclaim to her that her time of exile has been fulfilled, that her iniquity has been fully discharged.”
Why? Because the travail of galus was “received from the hand of Hashem.” People can be punished in two different ways. One kind of punishment is a targeted one. Hashem sends some onesh to the transgressor. A second kind does nothing of the sort. It merely leaves the sinner to his own devices, to contend with the myriad dangers that are part of human existence. Hashem removes his special assistance in dealing with these challenges. It is only a matter of time before one of the vicissitudes of life catch up with him.
The first kind is preferable, because it brings kapparah to the sinner. It was specially designed to expiate the sin. Surviving the second kind, however, does not bring kapparah, since the specific experience the sinner endured was a matter of happenstance. Yeshayah stresses that the sins of Klal Yisrael have been paid up in full, because the punishment that it endured was directly from Hashem’s hand.
He continues, “double for all her sins.” Because galus was visited upon us directly from His hand, He has given Klal Yisrael a double nechamah. We will be overjoyed at the coming of redemption, and even able to make peace with the long road that preceded it. Nachamu, nachamu ami.