THEN MOSES AND AARON

CAME AND SAID TO PHARAOH: "THUS SAYS THE LORD GOD OF ISRAEL: SEND MY

PEOPLE OUT SO THAT THEY CAN WORSHIP ME IN THE WILDERNESS.

 (Shemot 5:1)

Starting

with Words

From the wilderness of Kedeimot – Although

the Omnipresent had not commanded me to proclaim peace unto Sidon

I learnt to do so from what happened in the wilderness of Sinai, i.e., from an

incident that relates to the Torah which pre-existed [kodmah]

the world. For when the Holy One, blessed be He, was

about to give it [the Torah] to Israel,

he took it round to Esau and Ishmael. It was manifest before Him that they

would not accept it, but yet he opened unto them with peace. Similarly I first

approached Sihon with words of peace.

Another explanation of From the wilderness of Kedeimot:

Moses said to God, "I learnt this from what You said in the wilderness –

from You Who existed before [kadamta] the

world. You could have sent one flash of lightening to burn up the Egyptians,

but You sent me from the wilderness to Pharaoh to say

gently, Send My people out.

(Rashi on Devarim 2:26, following the Silbermann

translation)

When Israel

Behaves Properly, They are Called My People

The people took to complaining bitterly – The people can

only mean "the wicked." And so he says, What

shall I do with this people? (Shemot 17:4) and He says, this wicked people (Jeremiah 13:10). But when they are good, they

are called My people, for it is said, Send

My people out (Shemot 5:1) and, My

people, what have I done to you? (Micah 6:3).

(Rashi on Bamidbar 11:1)

"The

does not know how to ask"

Berel Dov Lerner

We

have become accustomed to relate to the midrash

about the four sons with profound gravity and seriousness. Some find in it the

kernel of a panacea for all of the problems of Jewish education, a kind of

"road-map" for the Jewish People's continued spiritual existence. I

would like to suggest a less ambitious interpretative strategy.

Note

the location of the midrash

of the four sons in the Haggadah. Two passages appear

immediately before it: The incident involving Rabbi Eliezer

and his colleagues who celebrated the Seder in Benei Brak, and the words of R. Elazar ben Azaryah, who described

himself as being "as one seventy years of age." Next come the four sons, followed by the halakhic

discussion, "One might start from the New Moon."

These

four passages appear consecutively; what is their common theme? The answer is

clear: None of these passages comes to tell us about the Exodus from Egypt,

none of them adds any information to what we have already learned from the

section "We were slaves." Their purpose is to tell us something about

the manner in which the commandment to retell the story of the Exodus should be

observed.

Before

we get to the main section of Maggid – the

retelling – before the many derashot dealing with the

Exodus itself, the Haggadah wishes to tell us

something about how we should go about performing the commandment of, You shall tell your son. The core message is

quite plain, the main principle has already been set

out in the end of "We were slaves":

And

even if all of us are wise, all of us understanding, all of us aged, all of us

knowledgeable about the Torah, we are still commanded to retell the Exodus from

Egypt. And the more one speaks of the Exodus from Egypt the better.

Rabbi

Eliezer and his distinguished band of friends come to

demonstrate how one is supposed to carry out the principle of "the more

one speaks the better" in practice: "They spoke of the Exodus from

Egypt all through that night, until their students came and said, 'Our Rabbis,

the time has come for the recitation of the morning Shema.'"

Next

comes R. Eliezer ben Azariyah to explain why the

Exodus must be mentioned at night. The four sons now make their appearance.

Next, the editor of the Haggadah emphasizes the

importance of devoting many hours to retelling the story of the Exodus by

entertaining the theoretical possibility that people could begin performing the

commandment from the first of Nissan. All of these passages

aim at instilling us with readiness to retell the story of the Exodus in the

best way possible, i.e., for many hours into the night.

Here

we are confronted with a very important practical difficulty. How are we to

engage our sons and daughters – who are, after all, the "target

audience" of the Seder – in the commandment of You

shall tell your son for hours on end? Perhaps our children are not really

interested in a long, drawn-out discussion?

The

four sons illustrate four typical responses of children to our educational

efforts during the Seder. Their responses are typical, but there is no reason

to assume that any one particular child will always behave like the wise son,

or like the wicked son. It all depends upon his age, his mood, his wakefulness,

and his stomach. If he did not take a nap in the afternoon, last year's wise

son can become this year's wicked son. The son who does not know how to ask

questions can turn into the wise son, thanks to the efforts of a talented

teacher. What then is the advice which the Haggadah

offers us in dealing with our children's various behaviors?

The

wise son: What does he say? "What are the statutes and ordinances and

laws which the Lord our God has commanded you?" And you shall tell him

the laws of the Paschal sacrifice [up to the detail]: "No desert is eaten

after the afikoman."

Here

we have important messages for both parent and child. The child wants to behave

appropriately and win praise. The Haggadah tells him

what to do: If someone wants to look intelligent, he must ask many detailed

questions. The message for the parent is no less important: If the child begins

asking complicated and perhaps even annoying questions, the parent should not

throw his hands up in despair, crying out, "God Almighty, this kid is

driving me crazy!" Rather, the parent must take advantage of the

opportunity offered by the child's curiosity and teach the child as much as

possible, "And you shall tell him the laws of the Paschal sacrifice [up to

the detail]: 'No desert is eaten after the afikoman.'"

Such a parent will, no doubt, need to gird himself with patience and listening

skills.

The

dialogue with the wicked son is a different story. We must first understand

exactly who this "wicked son" is who appears in the Haggadah. Is he a little heretic, a reincarnation of

Spinoza or of Elisha ben Avuyah? Or perhaps the "wicked son" is a lowly

traitor who collaborates with Hamas and Islamic

Jihad? To my mind, we are dealing with a much less shocking situation. In his

commentary on the Haggadah, the RITVA, following the

Jerusalem Talmud, formulates the wicked son's question in these words:

What is this bother that you trouble us

with every year, delaying our feast?

In

other words, the wicked son is asking: "Nu, so

when do we eat already?" The wicked son's impatience teaches us that it is

most inappropriate for one to announce one's hunger to the other participants

in the Seder while they are engaged in discussing the Exodus. Thus is solved

the famous question regarding the differences between the wise and wicked sons.

They both ask exactly the same question ("What are you doing?"), only

that the wicked son speaks curtly in order to have the meal served as quickly

as possible.

What,

then, is the proper response to the wicked son? If a child complains that he is

hungry, are we to "set his teeth on edge"? I believe that the Haggadah offers its own harsh response in order to spare us

the need for such unpleasantness. We do not have to answer the evening's

"wicked son" – the Haggadah has done that

for us when it announced before the world that a person who complains that he

is hungry at the Seder is behaving like a "wicked son" who has

"removed himself from the community." The Haggadah

reminds us all that those who wish to be redeemed must demonstrate patience.

It

should be no problem to guess the meaning of the passage regarding the

"simple son." He asks a simple question and receives a simple answer.

If a child asks, "What's that?" and we bury him under a long lecture

describing "the laws of the Paschal sacrifice [up to the detail]: 'No

desert is eaten after the afikoman'" our

efforts shall be wasted. In such a case, it is better to answer plainly: With

a mighty arm, the Lord took me out of Egypt, from the house of bondage.

Finally,

we get to the one "who does not know how to ask." Here we are not

dealing with a child who refuses to participate in the Seder,

rather he is not sure about how to participate. There are many different

reasons why a child may not know how to ask: perhaps he is shy, or he thinks he

already understands everything and is left with nothing to ask, or he might

feel that the Seder is aimed towards his younger siblings, and that it would be

inappropriate to interject with questions that are of interest only to the

older children. In any case, it is incumbent upon the parent to "open up

for him," a way must be found for him to participate in the Seder as an

educational experience. This certainly demands that the parent be attentive to

how the "passive" child understands his own role in the evening's

activities.

Each

and every child can pass through a series of transformations in the course of

the Seder, moving from archetype to archetype of the four sons. A particular

child may begin as the one "who does not know how to ask." When the

parent tries to open up the discussion for him and becomes a bit long-winded,

the child's stomach might get the best of him, making him a "wicked

son." After a few minutes, he might compose himself and ask

"simple" questions. Finally, as maggid

is reaching its end and the meal is almost served, the child may allow himself

to let loose with an onslaught of "wise" and complicated questions,

which leave even the most experienced and learned of grandparents struggling

for answers! There is no escaping it: Our duty is to remain flexible enough to

deal with any educational challenges

with which our children face us at the Seder table.

Dr. Berel Lerner is a member of Kibbutz Sheluhot

and a lecturer in philosophy at the Western Galilee Academic College.

…it seems to me that

the reason for the fact that all the sin-offerings, both of private individuals

and of the congregation are he-goats [se'irim]

– I refer to the he-goats [offered on the occasion of the festivals] of

pilgrimage, on the New-Moons, on the Day of Atonement, and [for the sin] of

idolatry – is that the reason, in my opinion, was that their greatest act of

disobedience consisted at that time in sacrificing to the se'irim

have gone a whoring (Vayikra

17:7). However, the Sages, may their memory be blessed, consider that

the reason for which the congregation is constantly atoned for by means of se'irim is that the whole congregation of Israel

committed their first act of disobedience with the help of a kid [se'ir] of goats. They refer to the sale of Joseph

the righteous, in whose story it is said: And they killed a kid of goats,

and so on (Bereishit

37:31). Do not regard this reason as feeble. For the end of all these

actions is to establish firmly in the soul of every disobedient individual the

constant need for remembering and making mention of his sin – as it said: And

my sin is ever before me (Tehillim 51:5) – and that he, his descendents, and

the descendants of his descendants, must seek forgiveness for the sin by an act

of obedience belonging to the same species as the act of disobedience…

Inasmuch as the he-goat

that was sent forth into the wilderness served wholly to atone for great sins,

so that there was no sin-offering of the congregation that served as atonement

in as great a measure as that goat, which was as it were the bearer of all the

sins, it was not to receive at all such treatment as being slaughtered or burnt

or sacrificed, but had to be removed to as great a distance as possible and sent

forth to a land that is cut off, I mean one that was separated from

habitation. No one has any doubt that sins are not bodies that may be

transported from the back of one individual to that of another. But all these

actions are parables serving to bring forth a form in the soul so that a

passion toward repentance should result: We have freed ourselves from all our

previous actions, cast them behind our backs, and removed them to an extreme

distance.

(RaMBaM, Guide of the

Perplexed III:46, following the Pines translation)

"Gifts

to the Poor" – Human Reformation and Social Justice

For the Lord, may He be

blessed, wanted His chosen people to be adorned with every good and precious

moral virtue, and that they be endowed with blessed souls and magnanimous spirits.

I have already written that the soul is affected by actions so that it may be

good and that the Lord's blessing be upon it. There is no doubt that when one

abandons a portion of his fruits in the field so that the needy might enjoy

them, his soul will enjoy satisfaction and a correct and blessed spirit, and

that the Lord, may He be blessed, will satisfy him with His beneficence and his

soul shall rest in goodness.

(Sefer HaHinukh, Positive Commandment 213)

You shall leave them for the poor and the stranger – It is evident that these laws are not made

for the direct purpose of the actual maintenance of the poor. Even the poor man

himself has to leave his gleanings, the forgotten sheaf, and the edge

of the field from his own field to other poor people! It is clear that, at

once at the harvest, at the moment when a person takes home that which Nature

and his own hard-work has yielded to him, and puts the proud and far-reaching

words "my own" in his mouth, these laws are to remind every member of

the Nation, and to demand an act of recognition from him, of the fact that this

"my own" includes for everybody the duty of caring for others who are

needy… that in God's holy state the care for the poor and the stranger

without property is not a matter which is left to the greater or lesser

soft-hearted feelings of sympathy… but is raised to a God-given right to the

poor, and a God-ordained duty to the owners of property from God.

(Rabbi S.R. Hirsch on Vayikra 19:10, Isaac Levy translation)

Readers

respond

My friend, Yossi Penini, published a

pleasant, interesting, and sociable article in issue number 387 of Shabbat

Shalom. That is all well and good, but it is built upon a common mistake, one

made even by serious and important rabbis. There does exist a biblical holiday

marking the entry to the Land, and its function is to complete the epic story

of Israel's beginnings, namely – the festival of Shavuot. In the days

approaching Shavuot, upon bringing the first fruits to the Temple, every

householder had to recite the special declaration which appears in the

beginning of parashat Ki Tavo. Each Israelite would return to the nation's

foundations: The Patriarchs (the preamble to national history), the Exodus

from Egypt (celebrated on Pessah), and the entry into

the Land (celebrated on Shavuot). The recitation for the first fruits was

deemed so important by the early rabbis that after the Second Temple's

destruction, they decided to enter the entire text into the Pessah

Seder, "until the end of the entire passage." After centuries of

exile, new generations of rabbis who wished to justify Diaspora life

"revamped" the holidays: They censored the text of the recitation,

cutting out all mention of the entry into the Land. Furthermore, they

completely changed the significance of Shavuot. The goal of the Exodus became

the reception of the Torah at Mount Sinai, rather than the entry into the Land

and the return to agricultural work.

Secular Zionism has

started off on the road towards reinstating Shavuot with its original

significance, but religious Zionism seems stuck in the ways of Diaspora

religious thinking, so distant from the reality of a people living in its land.

Ilan Michel

Yossi Penini, author of the article, writes:

Checking the mishnah cited by Rabbi Dr. Ilan

Michel (Pessahim 10:4),

it is easy to determine that it reflects the ritual of Pessah

night in the period when the Temple still existed, and not after its

destruction, as the respondent's comments imply. That same mishnah includes a version of the third of the

"Four Questions": "All other nights we eat meat roasted,

scalded, and cooked, this night it is all roasted." This refers to the

paschal sacrifice itself, and that is why the question has been reformulated in

our own Haggadot.

And what of the

recitation for the first fruits, and its exposition while the paschal lamb was being eaten,

in the days when Israel dwelled in its own Land? – Yes, this is a "fifth question"…

As

for the Haggadah itself. It brings the

recitation of the first fruits accompanied by an expanded version of the Sifrei's (Ki Tavo 301) expositions,

but it is missing the verse, And He brought us to this place and gave us

this land, a land flowing with milk and honey

(Devarim 26:9). Perhaps this teaches us that

the Sages considered the liberation from slavery, in each and every generation, to be of much greater importance than

dwelling in the Land of Israel ("a hint is sufficient for the wise").