Telling and experiencing the story of the Exodus

“L’ma’an tizkor et yom tzetcha me’eretz Mitzrayim kol y’mei chayecha” – “In order that you should remember the day that you left Egypt all the days of your life.”

Looking at the abovementioned verse, the Haggadah tells us that if it only included “the days [of your life]”, we would know that we must remember the Exodus each day. But since it says “all the days”, then as per the rules of talmudic exegesis that seek a reason for each additional word, this verse teaches that we must remember the Exodus each night as well.

To which the sages added that while the word “days” on its own would place an obligation upon us in this era of exile, the addition of the word “all” teaches that even in the messianic era, when we will have a new redemption to recall, we will still be required to remember the Exodus from Egypt.
From the first part of the aforementioned element of the Haggadah, we see that there is a daily requirement to remember the Exodus. We fulfil this in many ways – especially through the twice-daily recitation of the Shema, which concludes with the statement, “I am the Lord your God who took you out of the land of Egypt.”

In fact, this mitzvah of remembering the Exodus each day is actually one of six matters to be constantly recalled – the others include Shabbat, the revelation at Sinai, the need to wipe out Amalek, and also the punishment of Miriam for evil speech and the fact that Israel ungratefully angered God by misdeeds, even as they were wandering in the desert just after leaving Egypt.

This all raises the question: why is this night different from all other nights when we are also required to remember the Exodus?
The answer lies in the very name of the Haggadah that we utilise on seder night to provide a framework for the purpose of remembering the Exodus saga. On all other nights, we are only enjoined to remember. On this night, we are enjoined “v’higadta” – “to tell” – which, by implication, involves others.

A basic principle of the ceremony of the paschal lamb – the original seder ceremony – was that the sacrificial lamb be taken “l’mishpechoteichem” – “for your families”. An individual was generally not to offer a paschal lamb on his own – and not just because the inability to eat it would lead to waste of that which had been sanctified. Long before the modern-day family arranged the elaborate sedarim with which we are all familiar, the night of Pesach involved the gathering of the extended family for a consecrated meal. At such gatherings, the aim was “v’higadta l’vinecha” – “and you should tell to your children”.

Furthermore, one might add, the Torah uses two Hebrew words for this command to tell. In addition to “v’higadta”, we are also told (Shemot 10:2) that the miracles of the Exodus were intended “Ulema’an t’saper b’aznei binecha uven binecha” – “in order that you should ‘saper’ in the ears of your children and grandchildren”. “Saper” also means “to tell”, as in telling a story, but in reality it is more than just to tell. Derived from the same Hebrew root as a book (sefer), it also means to clarify, to bring about the clarity of a clear gemstone, a sapphire (to which it is also etymologically related). On seder night, to remember is insufficient. We have a duty to transmit the lessons of the past to future generations, in the clearest possible manner.

And how do we do it?

In a manner anticipating by millennia the techniques of modern educational psychology, the author of the Haggadah tells us that the way to do it is with educational aids – “b’esha’a she’matza umaror munachim lefanecha”. Yes, on seder night, he who increases to tell (and there the word is “l’saper” – “to clarify”) is praiseworthy. But talk alone may not achieve its purpose, hence this telling must be done very specifically “when matzah and maror are resting in front of you”.

Seeing and participating through eating (the latter requirement being the reason that even if I had the items in front of me I couldn’t start from Rosh Chodesh or even before nightfall when their consumption is not mandated) is ultimately the most effective way to ensure the lessons are learnt and tradition passed on.

And in that context I conclude with reference to a Haggadah by Rabbi Immanuel Bernstein entitled From Darkness to Destiny, The Haggadah Experience. The emphasis is on “experience”.

Rabbi Bernstein comments that seder night is a busy occasion. A lot of preparation goes into it and a great deal of organisation is required in order to ensure that the evening runs smoothly.

Frequently asked questions include: What type of vegetable should I use for karpas? What time is chatzot (midnight, by which time the afikoman should be consumed)? What is preferable for maror – lettuce or horseradish? These questions certainly need to be answered as they are the building blocks of the seder, and the mitzvot associated with them need to be fulfilled correctly.

But a less frequently asked question is: What is actually meant to happen at the seder? And an answer to that involves understanding and experiencing the seder night as it is meant to be understood and experienced. At the seder’s end participants should leave Egypt (note the line in the text of the Haggadah  requiring us to feel as if we actually left Egypt) and journey towards a new connection with Judaism.

May everyone have meaningful and enjoyable sedarim.

And even as the world queries our rights to Jerusalem, Jews worldwide will conclude their sedarim with the age-old wish: “L’shana haba’ah b’Yerushalayim – hasheleima vehab’nuyah.”
“Next year in Jerusalem – complete and rebuilt.”

Shabbat shalom,
Pesach kasher v’sameach,
Yossi

Yossi Aron OAM is The AJN’s religious affairs editor.