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A Yissachar / Zebulun Partnership in Loving Memory of Yishak ben Simcha A"H & Felicia bat Miriam A"H
Rabbi Joey Haber

Weekly Inspire

Thoughts for the Seder

Lectured by Rabbi Joey Haber

Published
March 29, 2018
Duration
00:00

Pesach seders generally come in one of two varieties. People who sit down to the seder are either “readers” or “never-endingers.”

The “readers” are those who just read through the Haggadah without much thought or discussion, eager to get to the meal and then finish up and go to sleep. While the hunger and fatigue are understandable, this is clearly not what the night is about – mindlessly reading a text. The seder is supposed to be a meaningful and uplifting experience with the family, which of course requires a degree of thought, study and reflection.

The “never-endingers” indulge for hours in lengthy discussions, reading commentaries from their Haggadah, and listening to children read the pages they received in school. On the one hand, this is very beautiful, but on the other hand, this is not very practical for many people. It causes a great deal of hardship for children and others with shorter attention-spans, and almost invariably results in one or more family members or guests getting impatient and agitated, which can ruin the entire atmosphere at the table.

A better arrangement would be something in between these two extremes, whereby the reading is accompanied by some reasonably brief discussion. This allows the evening to be meaningful without testing people’s patience.

To help facilitate this kind of “in between” seder, I present here a number of brief, but hopefully valuable, insights into various aspects of the seder to uplift seder participants without overburdening them. Readers are invited to choose some of these insights and share them at the seder – but only if it could be presented in sixty seconds or less!!!

The Freedom to Be Servants – of Hashem

The Ben Ish Hai writes that the three regalim (holidays when the Jewish People would assemble in the Bet Ha’mikdash) correspond to the three “pillars on which the world stands” – the three basic realms of Jewish observance, listed in the beginning of Pirkeh Avot: Torah study, avodah (serving Hashem), and kindness to other people. Torah study is associated with Shavuot, when we received the Torah, and Sukkot is connected to kindness, as we leave the confines of our homes and live outdoors, symbolizing our connectedness to the rest of Am Yisrael. Pesach, the Ben Ish Hai writes, is linked to avodah, because this is what “freedom” means – the freedom to serve Hashem. Most people mistakenly perceive freedom as the ability to do what one wishes. For us, however, this is not what freedom is about. Hashem freed us from servitude to Pharaoh so we could serve Him, instead. And thus Pesach, perhaps ironically, is connected to avodah.

This is also the reason why we call the holiday “Pesach.” This word refers to the special pesach sacrifice which Beneh Yisrael brought in Egypt on the day before they were freed, and the sacrifice that was brought afterward in the Bet Ha’mikdash each year on the afternoon before Pesach. We refer to this holiday by the name of this sacrifice because this is what freedom means – the opportunity to serve and make sacrifices for Hashem.

What Can I Do For Him?

When Hashem gave Moshe the instructions for the night of Yetziat Mitzrayim, He told him that Beneh Yisrael must sacrifice a sheep and place the blood על שתי המזוזות ועל המשקוף – “on the two doorposts and on the lintel” of their home. Interestingly, when Moshe conveyed these instructions to the people, he reversed the sequence, telling them to place the blood על המשקוף ועל שתי המזוזות – “on the lintel and on the two doorposts.”

The Maharil offers a beautiful explanation for these different sequences. The lintel symbolizes Hashem, who hovers over us, so-to-speak, to protect and care for us, whereas the two doorposts symbolize Moshe and Aharon, the leaders who stood alongside the people to help them. When Hashem spoke to Moshe, He wanted to emphasize the importance of him and Aharon, the critical leadership role which they served, and so He mentioned them first. Moshe, however, in his humility, did just the opposite – minimizing his importance and emphasizing Hashem’s role in freeing the people from Egyptian bondage.

The message being conveyed is that instead of always thinking of what we want, of what is best for us, we should first be thinking about what Hashem wants of us. Whenever we find ourselves in a challenging situation, we should not focus exclusively on our efforts to make things better and easier. We must ask ourselves what Hashem wants from us in that situation, how we can best serve Him under the circumstances that we currently face.

Celebrating Small Victories

The most common explanation for the symbolism of the four cups at the seder is that they represent the four promises that Hashem made to the Jewish People before Yetziat Mitzrayim:

1. והוצאתי אתכם מתחת סבלות מצרים – “I will take you from under the suffering in Egypt”

2. והצלתי אתכם מעבודתם – “I will save you from their labor”

3. וגאלתי אתכם – “I will redeem you”

4. ולקחתי אתכם לי לעם – “I will take you as My nation”

The Hid”a adds that these four promises were actually fulfilled in four different stages. He explains that first, about a year before Yetziat Mitzrayim, the people were no longer forced to perform backbreaking labor. Although they were still slaves, they were relieved of the harsh conditions they had endured for many years. Then, about a half-year later, they were relieved of all their labor. The third stage came on Pesach, when Beneh Yisrael left Egypt, and finally, seven weeks later, they received the Torah at Sinai, becoming Hashem’s treasured nation. These stages marked the fulfillment of Hashem’s four promises: He first saved the people from the “suffering” of harsh labor, then relieved them of slavery entirety, and finally redeemed them from Egypt, and took them to Sinai where they became His nation.

The requirement to drink a cup of wine for each stage teaches us something very important, particularly when we find ourselves beset by trouble and hardships. Namely, we must celebrate small victories. Even while Beneh Yisrael were still slaves, the end of backbreaking labor was something to celebrate. And the same is true of the other stages. Life does not have to be perfect for us to be happy. We can and should rejoice over our small victories. If a person was unemployed for a long period of time, and finally found a job, he has reason to celebrate even if the job is far from ideal. If parents have been struggling with a difficult child and they see some improvement, they should celebrate even if the child remains far from their idea of perfect. The Rabbis instituted four cups to teach us that every stage, every small victory, is cause for joy and celebration. When we celebrate small victories, we remain upbeat and optimistic even during periods of hardship, thus putting ourselves in a better position to handle the situation and move forward.

Hospitality Doesn’t Require Perfection

We begin the maggid section of the Haggadah by pointing to the matzah and proclaiming הא לחמא עניא די אכלו אבהתנא – “this is the ‘poor man’s bread’ which our ancestors ate in Egypt.” We then extend an invitation to all those who need hospitality: כל דכפין ייתי וייכול.

It seems strange that we extend an invitation immediately after announcing that we are serving “poor man’s bread.” Is this the way to invite people – by telling them that they’ll be receiving unusual food, bread that is generally eaten only by the poor?

It has been suggested that this passage in the Haggadah warns about the dangers of perfectionism. While perfectionism can sometimes be a wonderful and admirable trait, it can also stifle a person. If a person has a need to do everything perfectly, then he is likely to avoid committing himself to worthwhile and meaningful undertakings, as he will be fearful of doing them imperfectly. One common example is hospitality. Some people feel that they can have company over only if the house is in perfect, tiptop shape, and a lavish, multicourse meal is served on an exquisitely-set table. As a result, they end up having company only about twice or three times a year, because it takes so much work and effort for them to do it perfectly, the way they feel they need to. The Mishna in Pirkeh Avot teaches, יהיו עניים בני ביתך – poor people should be like our family members. This has been explained to mean that just as we do not throw our family members out of the house when things aren’t perfect, we should similarly welcome guests in need of hospitality even if the house is not in perfect shape. The conditions in the home do not need to be perfect, or even close to perfect, for us to invite guests and make them feel comfortable and welcome.

This is the message of הא לחמא עניא, the invitation we extend after describing the matzah as “poor man’s bread.” We are reminding ourselves that hospitality does not require perfection, that we can and should invite people into our homes even when the home is in far-from-perfect shape. When we set reasonable standards for ourselves, rather than refuse to accept anything but perfection, we will be able to do much more.

Do We Want Mashiah?

The brief הא לחמא עניא paragraph concludes with a prayer for our final redemption:

השתא הכא לשנה הבאה בירושלים. השתא עבדי לשנה הבאה בני חורין.

Now we are here; next year, in Jerusalem. Now we are slaves; next year, free men.

This prayer consists of two distinct wishes: that we should be in Jerusalem instead of in exile, and that we should be free instead of being subjugated by foreign nations. What is the meaning of this double prayer?

If we would ask people to honestly state whether they truly hope for Mashiah, for our final redemption, many of them would likely answer in the negative. Change is often frightening, and many people are intimidated by the thought of life changing so drastically as it will when the Mashiah comes. And, many people are generally content with their lives, and do not feel they are missing anything that will be given to them at the time of our final redemption.

As we saw earlier, the process of Beneh Yisrael’s redemption unfolded in stages. First, the slave labor ended, and only at a later point were the people freed. It has been explained that Hashem wanted to see whether the people longed to be redeemed only to be relieved of their suffering, or also because of their desire for a close connection to Hashem. He therefore relieved them of their slave labor before bringing them out of Egypt, to ascertain that they indeed wished to become His special nation, even after their suffering was alleviated.

This is very relevant to our condition in our generation. After many centuries of persecution, culminating with the devastation of the Holocaust, the Jewish People have been relieved of their suffering. We now have our own Jewish State, and a prosperous, comfortable community in the United States with unprecedented freedoms. We have seen the first stage of our redemption– we no longer suffer. However, our redemption is still far from complete. We cannot achieve the same level of closeness to Hashem now as we will in the times of Mashiah and the Bet Ha’mikdash. This is the test of our generation – to show that we long for redemption even after our suffering has been alleviated, because we aspire for a close and special relationship with Hashem, which can only be achieved once the Bet Ha’mikdash is rebuilt.

These are the two prayers of הא לחמא עניא. Even after we have returned to our land, we are still not completely “free” in the sense that we cannot fully connect to Hashem the way we should want to. We thus recite an additional prayer, that even after the end of our suffering and persecution, we still long for the time when we will achieve the freedom to build the special relationship with Hashem that can be experienced only in the Bet Ha’mikdash.

Stop Complaining and Be Happy!

We say in the Haggadah that the obligation of סיפור יציאת מצירם, to tell the story of the Exodus from Egypt, applies only on the night if Pesach, בשעה שיש מצה ומרור מונחים לפניך – when there is matzah and marror in front of us on the table.

The Tzelach makes an insightful comment about this passage in the Haggadah. There really should be something else besides matzah and marror in front of us at the table – the korban pesach, the sacrifice which was brought in the Bet Ha’mikdash on the afternoon before Pesach and then eaten at the seder. Today, of course, we cannot bring the sacrifice, and so instead we have only matzah and marror. The Haggadah is teaching us that the obligation to express praise and gratitude to Hashem for the miracles He performed for us applies even though we have only מצה ומרור מונחים לפניךmatzah and marror, without the korban pesach. Even in our state of exile, and despite all the suffering and upheavals the Jewish People have been through over the centuries, we still have much to be grateful for and much to celebrate.

This is a vitally important lesson for life. Rather than focusing on the korban pesach that we don’t have, we should focus on the matzah and marror that we do have. As long as מצה ומרור מונחים לפניך, if we have things in our lives to be grateful for, we can be happy. The choice is ours. We can either make ourselves miserable by complaining over what’s missing in our lives, or we can be happy and content with what we do have. Even in exile, we celebrate our freedom on Pesach. This shows us that even when we have problems – and who doesn’t have problems? – we can feel happy about our lives. We need to stop complaining about what’s missing and celebrate what isn’t.

Strength Through Unity

We cite in the Haggadah the pasuk which tells of the origins of the Egyptian bondage, how Pharaoh saw Beneh Yisrael’s population growing and was frightened. He told his people that Beneh Yisrael were רב ועצום – numerous and strong – and so הבה נתחכמה לו – Egypt needed to devise a strategy to deal with the threat posed by Beneh Yisrael. That strategy was a cruel policy of oppression and enslavement.

Interestingly, Pharaoh speaks of Beneh Yisrael here in the singular form: הבה נתחכמה לו. He tells the Egyptians that they needed a strategy for dealing with “him,” rather than for dealing with “them.”

The explanation given is that Pharaoh understood that Beneh Yisrael were not just רב – numerous – but also עצום – strong, and this was because of their unity. They were devoted to one another, looked out for one another, and helped one another, and this is what made them powerful. Even though their population rapidly grew, they did not drift apart from one another, forming individual clans and conflicting groups. They remained unified as a single nation.

This unity is what irked Pharaoh, and this is what he set out to destroy. He realized that the best way to divide people, to sow friction and cause fighting, is by making life hard. We see this in family life very often. When a family’s situation is generally stable, the family members get along with one another. But once trouble sets it, such as illness or financial hardship, people are tense and anxious, and thus prone to anger and conflict. Stress is a powerful catalyst for friction. Pharaoh was a smart king, and he understood this very well. He thus said, הבה נתחכמה לו, that he needed to outsmart Beneh Yisrael’s unity, which he tried accomplishing by enslaving them and making them suffer.

The lesson to be learned is the need to redouble our efforts during periods of hardship to remain together. If we allow our problems and challenges to sow discord and friction in our families or communities, then we are allowing Pharaoh to score a victory. We must remain devoted to preserving our unity and harmonious relations within families and communities even in times of stress and tension, so that we remain unified and strong under all circumstances and under all conditions.

The Dayenu Mindset

One of the more difficult sections of the Haggadah is Dayenu, which lists the many different acts of kindness that Hashem performed for our ancestors, from the time of Yetziat Mitzrayim through the building of the Bet Ha’mikdash. After mentioning each one, we then say that even if Hashem had not done the next kindness, דיינו – it would have been enough.

Several of the passages in this song are quite startling. For example, we say, אילו קרע לנו את הים ולא העבירנו בתוכו בחרבה דיינו – “If He had split the sea for us, but did not have us pass through it on dry land, this would be enough for us.” Really? What would have been the point of splitting the sea if we had not passed through it on dry land? The Egyptians would have caught up to us and killed us! We then say, אילו העבירנו בתוכו בחרבה ולא שקע צרינו בתוכו דיינו – “If He had us pass through it on dry land, but did not sink our enemies in its midst – this would be enough for us.” What does this mean? How would it have helped us to cross the sea if the Egyptians had been able to continue pursuing us?

Later in Dayenu, we say, אלו קרבנו לפני הר סיני ולא נתן לנו את התורה דיינו – “If He had brought us before Mount Sinai, but did not give us the Torah, it would be enough for us!” What would have been the point of encamping by Mount Sinai if we were not given the Torah?

Rav Dovid Feinstein offered the following answer. Imagine a hostess prepared a large, scrumptious meal, and her two guests thank her afterward. One guest says, “Thank you for a really great meal,” and leaves. The other one says, “Wow, that roast was really tender, thank you! And the chicken was very tasty. Where did you get that recipe? I also noticed the beautiful way the table was set up – the runners, the flowers and the decorations. It really made the whole experience so wonderful and made me feel so special. Thank you also for the salads; I always appreciate healthy side dishes, and the dressing was just perfect.”

Which “thank you” is more meaningful?

Obviously, the second person’s “thank you” is far more appreciated. The second person shows recognition for each and every detail, expressing appreciation not just in general terms, but for every stage and every bit of work invested.

This is what Dayenu is. We are not saying that we didn’t need the other acts of kindness, but rather that each and every one is enough of a reason to express gratitude. Once the sea split, even before the people went through it, they had good reason to thank Hashem. Once Hashem brought them to Sinai, even before they received the Torah, they had good reason to be grateful.

In order to be happy in life, we need to have a “Dayenu” mindset. We need to be able to see every little piece and feel grateful. Sure, we have problems, and there are many things in our lives that we wish were better. Even so, we have so many reasons to be thankful. We should be able to turn to Hashem and say, “Had You just allowed me to wake up this morning and open my eyes – this would be enough. Had You just given me my spouse – this would be enough. Had You just given me my home – this would be enough. Had You just given me heat to keep me warm in the winter – this would be enough. Had You just given me one child – this would be enough. Had you just given me a modest income with which to cover my basic expenses – this would be enough. Had you just given me the freedom and ability to do mitzvot – this would be enough. Had you just given me a choice of synagogues within walking distance of my home where I can pray – this would be enough.” And so on and so forth.

The more we engender this “Dayenu” mindset within ourselves, the more likely our children are to live with this mindset. Kids tend to complain, seeing only what they are missing. But if they see us express gratitude and exude a feeling of contentment with life, then they, too, will live with this attitude, and say “Dayenu” for all the good things in their lives.

Dayenu teaches us of the need to identify all the blessings in our lives – both big and small – that we should appreciate, as this will lead us to a more positive outlook on life which will directly impact all the people around us.

The goal of the seder, and the Pesach celebration generally, is for us to reflect upon our nation’s freedom from Egypt, and recognize that we, too, can achieve freedom from the pain, sorrow and disappointment in our lives. Though we often free trapped in negativity, the Pesach story reminds us that we can be free to enjoy happiness and fulfillment. It is my hope that these insights will help uplift our seder and lead us all one step closer to the freedom that we all wish for.