✨ “Why Did Hashem Strike the Malach HaMaves?” — Rav Yonason’s Chad Gadya Mashal
The tension in the community was thick enough to feel in the air. Everywhere people turned, they heard the same question whispered again and again:
“Whose side are you on — Rav Yonason’s or Rav Emden’s?”
One evening, after Maariv, a group of troubled Jews approached Rav Yonason Eybeschutz. Their faces were tight with worry.
“Rebbe,” one of them said, “the machlokes is tearing families apart. People say we must choose a side. What should we do?”
Rav Yonason looked at them with a mixture of sadness and compassion.
“My children,” he said, “let me ask you a question about a song you all know.”
He began to hum softly:
‘Chad gadya, chad gadya…’
The men exchanged puzzled looks.
Rav Yonason continued.
The Question No One Asks
“In Chad Gadya, each creature attacks the one before it. The cat bites the goat. The dog bites the cat. The stick hits the dog. The fire burns the stick. The water puts out the fire. The ox drinks the water. The shochet slaughters the ox. And the Malach HaMaves kills the shochet.”
He paused.
“But then something strange happens. HaKadosh Baruch Hu Himself comes and kills the Malach HaMaves.”
He leaned forward.
“Tell me — why? The Malach HaMaves was only doing his job. The shochet killed the ox, so the Malach HaMaves killed the shochet. That is his role. So why does Hashem punish him?”
The men were silent. They had sung the song their whole lives, but never thought to ask.
Rav Yonason’s eyes softened.
The Dog Had No Right
“The answer,” he said, “is hidden earlier in the story.”
“When the cat bit the goat, the dog jumped in and bit the cat. But the dog had no right to get involved. It wasn’t his fight. He wasn’t defending himself. He wasn’t correcting an injustice. He simply inserted himself into a conflict that did not belong to him.”
He let the words sink in.
“And once the dog interfered, the whole chain of violence began. One attack led to another, each one claiming justification — but all of it began because someone stepped into a machlokes that was not his.”
He looked around the room.
“So when the Malach HaMaves kills the shochet, he is only finishing a chain that began with someone who had no business getting involved. And Hashem says: Enough. This ends here.”
The Message for the Community
Rav Yonason’s voice grew gentle.
“My dear children, do not be the dog in Chad Gadya. Do not jump into a machlokes between giants of Torah. You do not see what they see. You do not know what they know. And you do not belong in the middle.”
He spread his hands.
“Let the Ribbono Shel Olam sort out the truth. Your task is to keep peace, to learn Torah, to guard your tongue, and to stay far from machlokes.”
The men nodded slowly, their hearts lighter.
And as they walked home that night, the familiar tune of Chad Gadya echoed in their minds — no longer a children’s song, but a warning:
Not every fight is yours. Not every fire needs your wood. And sometimes the holiest act is stepping aside.