Rabbi Nisan Andrews: Moving from slavery to freedom

By Rabbi Nisan Andrews

(Calgary) – There is a reason why, in the vast library of Jewish thought, two books stand above the rest. They are the twin pulses of our national heart.

The first is the Chumash. It provides the weekly rhythm of our lives – the “what” and “why” of our existence. It’s God speaking to us, laying out the moral architecture of the world. But the second is the Siddur, and in many ways it is more intimate. If the Chumash is God’s word to us, the Siddur is our word to God.

According to former Chief Rabbi Lord Sacks, zt”l, the Siddur is “a map of the Jewish soul”, and for centuries, that’s exactly what it was. Whether we were in a golden age in Spain or the depths of a ghetto, the Siddur was there. It contains the cries of Moshe, the quiet pleas of the Talmudic rabbis, and the collective hopes of a people who refused to stop dreaming.

But the Siddur isn’t just for the synagogue. It’s also for those raw, unscripted “Jewish moments” where we feel the “wings of the Divine Presence” brushing against our lives, connecting our past to our future, wherever we happen to be standing.

One specific prayer has moved from the quiet corners of the weekday service to the very center of our lives: Acheinu.

“As for our brothers of the whole house of Israel who are in distress or captivity… may the All-Present have compassion on them and lead them from distress to relief, from darkness to light…”

Before October 7th, Acheinu was a prayer of general empathy. Today, it is our heartbeat. We said it for the hostages in the tunnels of Gaza and for the soldiers on the front lines. But today, the “distress” mentioned in this prayer has taken on a terrifying, high-tech form: the shadow of Iranian missiles.

When we talk about the “suffering” of Israelis today, we aren’t just talking about the physical battlefield. We are talking about the psychological weight of living under a sky that can turn into a wall of fire at any moment.

There is a profound connection here to Pesach, the festival of our liberation. In the Haggadah, we read the words: “In every generation, they rise up against us to destroy us.” For those on the receiving end of Iran’s drones and missiles, that ancient line isn’t history – it’s the evening news.

There is a beautiful linguistic depth in Acheinu. We address God as HaMakom, the “Omnipresent.” HaMakom also means the place, a reference to the Land of Israel. This double entendre requests that God be with us wherever we are, especially in the Land of Israel, and that the Land of Israel should particularly be a place where we find freedom and all of the blessings for which we pray in this prayer.

This is also a central theme of the Seder. We end the night by crying out, L’shanah Haba’ah B’Yerushalayim – Next year in Jerusalem. We aren’t just praying for a city; we are praying for “The Place” to be a sanctuary.

In Acheinu, we ask Hashem to be “The Place” for us – to protect the physical Land and to be present with us in the cramped “places” where we hide for safety. We are asking that the Land of Israel remain a place of “freedom” and “relief,” rather than a target for “oppression.” It is the same plea our ancestors made: to move from Avdut (slavery/distress) to Cheirut (freedom).

Rabbi Nisan Andrews is Rabbi at Congregation House of Jacob Mikveh Israel in Calgary.