On Seder night, we don’t just tell the story of leaving Egypt. We repair what Egypt broke.

Drawing from a powerful ma’amar of Rav Avraham Tzvi Kluger, this shiur reveals how the four cups of wine are  part of a spiritual tikun that reaches back to the earliest cracks in humanity. From the generation of the flood to the sins of Cham, the raven, and the dog, something broke in how we saw ourselves. Pesach night gives us a chance to fix it.

Rav Shlomo Katz walks us through this multi-generational healing, showing how the act of drinking on this night reminds us of who we became and who we’re still becoming. It’s not about looking back with guilt. It’s about remembering we have the tools to move forward, not just for ourselves, but for the entire chain of generations that came before us.

There’s a difference between leaving Egypt and crossing the sea. One takes you out of slavery. The other begins to teach you how to dream.

In this powerful pre–Shevi’i shel Pesach shiur, Rav Shlomo Katz challenges us to look beyond survival. It’s not enough to escape exile. The question is: what now? What do we actually want from our lives, our Yiddishkeit, our future?

Drawing from Rav Shlomo Carlebach, Rav Itchie Meir Morgenstern, personal stories, and a raw letter from a doctor during the early days of COVID, this shiur confronts us with the uncomfortable truth: maybe we’ve been aiming too small. Maybe Hashem is asking us to want more — not just for ourselves, but for the whole world.

It’s always there, sitting quietly on the Seder plate. A simple egg. But what’s it really doing there?

Rav Shlomo Katz delves deeply into the soul of this mysterious symbol, following Rav Kluger's teachings. Why is the egg a sign of mourning, yet placed front and center on the night of redemption? Why does Tisha B’Av always fall out on the same night of the week as the Seder? What’s the deeper connection between exile and geulah, between heartbreak and hope?

The egg whispers a hidden truth: Hashem’s love was never severed, even as we were sent into galut. On this night of freedom, the egg invites us to remember that every shattered moment holds the potential for reunion, for rebirth, and for love that lasts forever.

What happens when Pesach begins on Saturday night?

This opens up the door to many different halachot that we generally are not accustomed to. In this class, we covered many of the possible issues that may come up,

An overview of the different times the Korban Pesach was brought, and a deeper look into the necessity of the mitzvah as a preparation for the Exodus.

A letter written by the Aish Kodesh to his followers on Erev Pesach 1939, a few months before the Second World War

Why does the Torah call the night or le’arba’ah asar—“the light of the fourteenth”—when it’s clearly dark outside? What’s this night trying to tell us?

Join Rav Shlomo Katz and enter the hidden world of the night before Pesach. With the voices of Reb Nosson of Breslov and R’ Shlomo Carlebach echoing through the room, we learn how this is not just a night of cleaning and checking. This is a night of transformation.

We begin to burn not only the chametz in our homes, but the chametz in our minds: the belief that nature is fixed, that our past defines us, that we’re stuck in darkness. On this night, we declare: darkness is an illusion. Night can shine like day. And within the cracks of our stories, those places that once hurt, we find the deepest light.

The night of Bedikat Chametz is the beginning of redemption, not just for our homes, but for our souls.

A teaching on the preparation for Pesach from Reb Tzvi Meir Zilberberg

A teaching on the preparation for Pesach from Reb Tzvi Meir Zilberberg

The more you speak Emunah, the more it sinks in. Pesach is the holiday which opens the doors for Emunah to become rooted into our hearts for the whole year.