Were the Israelites Calm or Trembling at the First Passover
Two rabbis disagreed about who was rushing at the first Passover meal. The answer changes what faith actually looks like when freedom is hours away.
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Picture the first Passover night. The lamb is roasting. The unleavened bread is ready. Sandals are buckled. Staffs are in hand. Every image of that night suggests urgency, movement, readiness, haste. But there is a debate buried in the Mekhilta about exactly whose haste the Torah is describing, and the answer turns out to be a question about the spiritual posture of redemption itself.
(Exodus 12:11) commands that the Passover offering be eaten in haste: "And you shall eat it in haste." The Hebrew word is chipazon. Rabbi Akiva reads this as referring to the Egyptians, their panic as the plague of the firstborn tore through their households, their frantic urgency to drive Israel out before dawn. In his reading, the Israelites ate calmly. God was in control. The Egyptians were the ones rushing.
Rabbi Yehoshua disagrees. In his reading, recorded in Tractate Pischa 7:3, the haste belongs to the Israelites themselves, not to their oppressors. And he flips the proof texts to make his case.
How Rabbi Yehoshua Reads the Evidence
His argument is precise. The Torah says in (Exodus 12:39) that the Israelites baked unleavened bread because "they were driven out of Egypt and could not delay." That verse, Rabbi Yehoshua argues, already captures the Egyptian haste: the expulsion, the urgency of the masters who had been broken by the plague and could not wait to be rid of their slaves. That haste is accounted for.
So when the Torah says separately, in the instructions for the Passover meal, "eat it in haste," it must be referring to something else. Not the Egyptians' panic. The Israelites' own state of mind.
In Rabbi Yehoshua's picture, the Israelites were not eating in confidence. They were eating with the trembling energy of people who knew that at any moment, the signal could come. Sandals on their feet. Staffs in their hands. Standing at the table, not sitting. Their bodies already angled toward the door. They ate like people who had waited too long to wait a moment more.
What Does Readiness Actually Look Like?
The stakes of this debate are not historical. They are about what it means to wait for God to act.
Rabbi Akiva's version is faith as stillness. You eat in peace because God has already arranged the outcome. The Egyptians are the ones running. You are the one who can afford to be calm, because trust in divine power should release you from anxiety. Freedom is coming. You know it. You sit.
Rabbi Yehoshua's version is faith as readiness. You eat fast because freedom is not something you receive while sitting still. You lean forward. You stand. You keep your sandals on. The readiness is not fear. It is desire so intense that your body cannot hold it. You have been waiting your whole life for this night, and when it finally comes, you will not waste a second of it.
These are not contradictory postures. They describe two different kinds of trust. One trusts that God will act no matter what you do. The other trusts that God is calling you to be ready when he does.
The Mekhilta Keeps Both
The Mekhilta, compiled in the second century CE from the school of Rabbi Ishmael, does not resolve the debate. It preserves both answers, which is its own kind of instruction. Halakha often records minority opinions not to discard them but to honor the truth they contain. Both Akiva and Yehoshua were witnesses to tradition. Both had reasons. Both were right about something.
The Mekhilta is full of disagreements like this: two rabbis reading the same verse and finding completely different images behind it. The practice of preserving the argument is the point. Jewish tradition does not flatten its debates into a single answer when both answers carry genuine weight.
What the Mekhilta offers is not resolution but a question you have to answer for yourself. When the door of freedom opens, when the moment you have been waiting for finally arrives, do you walk through it at your normal pace, trusting in the God who prepared it? Or do you run?
The sandals are on your feet. The staff is in your hand. You have already decided.