Haggadah Tips, Part II
In four different passages of the Torah, Jewish parents are commanded to tell their children about the exodus from Egypt ((Exod 12:26-27, 13:8, 13:14, and Deut 6:20-21). We fulfill this commandment next Friday night by reading through the Haggadah. But do we really know what the Haggadah is saying—and why? Here are a few points you may have missed.
1. The Four Sons
Everyone knows about the four sons—the wise, the wicked one, the simple, and the one who does not know how to ask. But you may not know that their very existence is due to an apparent violation of the Rabbis’ rule of Scriptural economy. Basically, this rule holds that there is no needless repetition in the Torah: every word is significant. But if so, why are there four passages (the ones just mentioned above) that all say the same thing, “Tell your children about the exodus”? Wouldn’t one be enough?
The answer that the Haggadah gives is that these four passages are each referring to a different kind of child. Exod 12:26-27 quotes one kind of child, the sort that asks “What is this service to you.” This formulation suggests that the child is excluding himself from the whole thing, as if to say that it’s your business but not his: hence, the “wicked son.” Exod 13:8 doesn’t even mention a child asking anything—it just says, “And you shall tell your child…” The text must have had in mind the sort of child who does not know how to ask—but even such a child should be told about the exodus. In Exod 13:14, the child does ask, but barely: “What is this?” This must be a relatively young and simple child, so he requires a fairly simple answer. By contrast, the child’s question in Deut 6:20-21seems altogether sophisticated, “What are the statutes and the laws and the ordinances that the Lord our God commanded you?” Surely such a question comes from a wise child and deserves an equally sophisticated answer.
2. Now I Get It
Before this, the Haggadah reports a strange statement by Rabbi Elazar ben Azaryah, “I’m fully seventy years old, yet only now do I understand why the exodus from Egypt should be recounted at night.” Night is when the festival begins; shouldn’t people carry out the commandment to “tell your children” at the first opportunity, namely, the night of the first day of Passover?
(I should say parenthetically that I translated Rabbi Elazar as saying that he is fully seventy years old because in Hebrew he says that he is ke- seventy years old. This looks like the common particle for “like,” as if to say that Rabbi Elazar was not really 70, but was in some way just like a 70-year-old—an understanding that has led to some interesting explanations. But in fact this seems to be one example of the relatively rare use of ke- as an asseverative—rare, but found in both biblical and Mishnaic Hebrew. If you want more information, just look up “asseverative kaph” on the internet.)
Actually, Rabbi Elazar’s comment originally had nothing to do with Passover or the exodus. It is found in the Mishnah (Berakhot, 1:5), among the laws governing the reciting of the Shema. As is well known, we recite the Shema morning and evening, since this is what is prescribed in Deut 6:4-9 and 11:18-21; in fact, that is why we read both of these passages as part of the Shema—both of them mention saying it “when you lie down and when you get up.” But the third passage that we recite along with them (Num 15:37-41) has no obvious connection to the other two passages; it is all about the law of fringes (tzitziyot). It makes sense to require that this third passage be read when one gets up in the morning, since that’s also when a person gets dressed—and hence, when one should be reminded to wear a garment with the prescribed fringes. But why should this third passage be recited at night, when fringes are not at all required?
Rabbi Elazar says that only now has he come to know the answer, thanks to his colleague Ben Zoma. We recite this passage at night as well not because of what it says about fringes, but because of its very last verse, “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt to be your God.” Since this verse mentions the exodus, however fleetingly, it is deemed to fulfill the commandment of Deut 16:3, which requires us to recall the exodus “all the days of your life.” The word all suggests (by the same rule of Scriptural economy mentioned above) that something more than a just once-a-day mention is being required: all the days of your life means both day and night—hence the duty to say this third passage of the Shema not only in the morning, but at night as well. (But of course none of this mentions the reading of the Haggadah on the first night of Passover!)
3. Wicked Laban
The Haggadah instructs us to mention what Laban, the wicked Aramean, sought to do to his nephew (and our ancestor) Jacob, something that, it says, was even worse than what Pharaoh tried to do the Israelites in Egypt, “since Pharaoh decreed [death] on the newborn males, but Laban sought to eliminate all [newborns, boys and girls alike].” This is actually an adaptation of an old midrash that had nothing to do with Laban. It was all about the events preceding Moses’ birth.
The Torah reports that at a certain point Pharaoh decreed that all newborn boys be cast into the Nile—apparently out of fear that when these newborns grew into men, one of them might organize an uprising against the Egyptians. Newborn girls, however, were to be spared (Exod 1:22). Hearing of this decree, Amram, the future father of Moses and a leader of the people, gave up in despair; according to the midrash, he divorced his wife Jochebed lest she bring forth boys to be slaughtered at birth.
At this point, Amram’s daughter Miriam objected: “Father, your decree is worse than Pharaoh’s! Pharaoh’s decree applied only to newborn boys, whereas what you are planning will put a stop to all births, boys and girls alike.” At this Amram reconsidered and took his wife back. That is why it says (Exod 2:1) “a man of the house of Levi went out and married a Levite woman.” First Amram “went out,” having divorced his wife, then, on his daughter’s advice, he reconsidered and “[re]married a Levite woman,” his former wife Jochebed. (This also explained why Moses, whose birth is narrated in Exod 2:2, could suddenly have an older sister in Exod 2:4.)
What the Haggadah says, namely, that “Pharaoh decreed [death] on the newborn males, but Laban sought to eliminate all [newborns, boys and girls alike]” is clearly an adaptation of Miriam’s words in the old midrash, now changed so as to apply to wicked Laban.
4. Now That That’s Over
The Haggadah proper ends (for Ashkenazim) with the assertion, “Thus concludes the proper arrangement (siddur) of Pesaḥ according to its rules (hilkhato), its laws and regulations. Just as we have had to privilege to arrange it, so may we have the privilege to carry it out (literally, ‘to do it’).” This has stymied some commentators, since, coming at the end of the Haggadah, the participants seem to have already “done it” or “carried it out.” Some have suggested that “arranging it” refers to arranging the seder meal and narration that have just been celebrated, whereas “doing it” refers to celebrating the festival in the land of Israel after the redemption and the coming of the Messiah.
Actually, these lines come at the end of a long poem attributerd to the eleventh century French scholar Joseph ben Samuel Bonfils (Tov Elem). The poem was intended to be recited on the Shabbat preceding Passover, Shabbat ha-Gadol; its purpose was to explain some of the rules and procedures for the festival. The last lines are thus saying, “Just as we have been able to go over the rules of Pesah today, on Shabbat ha-Gadol, so may we able to carry them out next week, on the festival itself.” Apparently, these and the following last lines of the poem came to be so beloved that they were inserted at the end of Haggadah, where they are sung to a haunting tune.
Shabbat shalom, mo‘adim le-simḥah.
