Something New, Something Old:
Finding Meaning in the Haggadah

Parshat Metzora / Shabbat Hagadol
April 12, 2003  -  10 Nissan 5763

This Shabbat, better known as Shabbat Hagadol, marks the quiet before the storm. It's the occasion when rabbis traditionally assist their congregants in the elaborate preparations for Passover by expounding on the laws of this holiday. The rabbis of old had it easy. They only had to preach twice a year: on Shabbat Shuvah, before Yom Kippur, and on Shabbat Hagadol, just before Passover.

So Passover is coming and there's a lot to do. In just a few days we'll transform our kitchens into the strange world of Pesach, if we haven't done so already. We'll throw out all the bread, cake and cookies in our homes and hide away any Chametz we don't have the heart to destroy. We'll sell our Chametz to a non-Jew (with a Rabbi's assistance, of course) and search the corners of our homes with a candle and a feather for any forgotten crumbs. And then we'll gather around the dinner table to tell the story of the Exodus and celebrate the blessings of freedom. We'll eat Matzah, drink wine; we'll ask questions and sing songs. But most of all, we'll read the Haggadah.

The Haggadah - that strange little book we open each year as we recall the origins of the Jewish people and the birth of our way of life. Actually, some people think that 'Shabbat Hagadol' is really supposed to be 'Shabbat Haggadah.' According to this theory, some scribe took the "Hay-Gimel" abbreviation for 'Haggadah' and assumed it meant 'Hagadol' because the Haftorah we read this morning concluded with a promise that the prophet, Elijah, will come on "Yom Hagadol" "the great and terrible day of the Lord."

Whether or not this theory is correct, the Shulchan Aruch suggests that we should read through the Haggadah on the Sabbath prior to Pesach. The sages understood that one cannot celebrate Pesach sight unseen. It demands preparation, contemplation and forethought. Unfortunately, most people put more effort into their Kneidelach than they do into the ceremony that's at the heart of this festival.

But maybe that's not so strange. If you stop and read the Haggadah carefully, you'll quickly figure out that this small and beloved book (it doesn't have more than two or three thousand words) is almost incomprehensible. I suspect that there is not a Jewish home that doesn't have at least one Haggadah and yet few people rarely understand this text. Considering that the purpose of the Seder is teach our children the story of the Exodus, the Haggadah seems to go out of its way to make it hard for us to figure out what the story is really all about.

What a strange retelling the Haggadah contains! Consider the fact that Moses is almost completely absent from the Haggadah. Imagine trying to tell the story of the American Revolution without ever mentioning George Washington, Benjamin Franklin or Thomas Jefferson! Yet the Haggadah hardly mentions the man who is responsible for liberating the Children of Israel from Egypt.

If the purpose of the Seder is to recall the Exodus, it would have been much easier to read the first twelve chapters of Sefer Shemot, the Book of Exodus. Everything that we need to know is right there. Yet the Haggadah directs us to read a passage from Deuteronomy instead and then it intersperses this brief passage with other biblical verses and comments that only serve to confuse us even more.

The Haggadah contains more questions than answers. It's an odd little text that appeals more to the Yeshiva bochur than it does to the average Jew. It assumes that we understand how Midrash works and that we are thoroughly familiar with the entire Bible. It jumps from one point to another in Jewish history, from Rabbi Akiva to Abraham to Laban to Rabbi "Jose" without as much as a warning. I love the Haggadah and yet as one of my colleagues pointed out to me, it is not a very accessible text to the average lay person. It's no wonder that we find ourselves a little confused by this text. And yet we read it none the less.

But maybe that is the whole point of the Haggadah. This text is meant to make us ask questions. There's no better sign of freedom than the ability to ask questions and to inquire into the meaning of life. A free person has the right to challenge authority, to express doubt, or to say no. A slave, on the other hand, doesn't know from questions. All he needs to know is what he or she is commanded to do.

What's more, the Haggadah reminds us that freedom doesn't come easily. No one should assume that they will be handed freedom "on a silver platter." The Haggadah forces to work hard in trying discern the meaning of this text and the lessons of the Exodus. Nothing is obvious. We have to struggle with the Haggadah just as we must sometimes struggle with life. And in the end we have to create our own story by reading and interpreting the text of the Haggadah. It's not enough just to read the standard text.

There is one passage in the Haggadah that makes this lesson especially clear. Toward the beginning of the Haggadah we read a story about several Rabbis who sat together on Passover in Bnai Brak to expound on the significance of the Exodus. Then, just after sunrise, their students came to remind them that it was time to recite the morning service. So engrossed were these rabbis in the story of the Exodus that they lost track of time.

Rabbi Baruch Halevi Epstein, in his commentary on the Haggadah, asks why this story appears in the Haggadah at all. After all, most of the Haggadah is a series of interpretations of Biblical passages connected with the Exodus. This story is about a group of Rabbis who lived hundreds of years later. What do they add to our Seder experience?

Rabbi Epstein explains that this anecdote teaches us two important lessons. First, it teaches us that no one is exempt from recalling the story of the Exodus, even men as brilliant as Rabbi Akiva, Rabbi Tarfon, Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah, Rabbi Yehoshua, and Rabbi Eliezer. Surely they knew the story of the Exodus already and yet they spent the evening considering the significance of this for their lives and their world. The Seder is not an intellectual exercise. The sages understood that the purpose of the telling was not informational but transformative. The story of the Exodus was meant to build character, not necessarily to inform them of what happened. That is why even great scholars are obligated to dwell at length on the Exodus. We tell the story not to fill our minds but to change our hearts.

Rabbi Epstein writes that the second reason that this story is included in the Haggadah is to teach us that the whole point of Seder is not to stick to the script but to expand on it. If Rabbi Akiva and the others had simply read the Haggadah, they would have been finished long before sunrise. These sages didn't just tell the story; they argued debated, clarified and explained all night long. They yelled at one another! If all we do at the Seder is read the Haggadah, then we haven't really fulfilled our obligation. The Haggadah is the beginning and not the end.

On the other hand if you take the time to delve more deeply into this charming little text, you'll discover that there is much wisdom and insight to be gained from its words, and much to add to its insights. And the point of the Seder is not the reading of the text as much as it is the process of discussion the text inspires. If the Haggadah was simply a story book we would have listened dutifully and then gone on with our meal. This text is meant to provoke us and inspire us to talk to one another.

So as we prepare for Passover, I hope you'll take the time to open a Haggadah and think about the discussion that will take at your Seder table Wednesday and Thursday night. There are better questions to ask at the Seder than, "When do we eat?"

And in an age when we are witnessing dramatic images of liberation and conflict; when a modern day Pharaoh is about to fall, and our own freedoms are being challenged in the interest of security; at a time when we can say "This year in Jerusalem" and mean it we must stop and consider what freedom really means and what being Jewish really means.

America is one of the few nations in the world where people understand that freedom is a profound obligation. It does not come freely and it often means that we must be willing to pay for it dearly. I can't think of a better time in history to be celebrating Passover.

As many of you know I love the Haggadah, more than any other book in Jewish life. For the past few years I have even created my own Haggadah using the rich resources of our traditional commentators. Nothing makes me feel more Jewish or more human than the Seder and the Haggadah.

This text captures the essence of who we are and what we must strive to be. It challenges us and inspires us, but you have to be willing to do the hard work of excavating it for its pearls of wisdom.

So don't ignore the Haggadah; start with it and let it lead you from slavery to freedom. I guarantee you. The effort is worth it. I hope you will find as much joy in this text as I do!!

Shabbat Shalom and May you have a Zissen Pesach!!