Bo - Viva Hammer

Taking the cue from the child:
The Seder night as Jewish educational paradigm

Viva Hammer is in the Office of Tax Policy at the U.S. Treasury Department, and a Research Associate at the Hadassah-Brandeis Institute of Brandeis University. She has written for The Washingtonian, The Forward, Lilith, Los Angeles Jewish Journal and many other publications.

This week's parsha contains the commandments to observe the festival of Passover and to teach our children the story of the Exodus. Over the centuries, the reciting of the Hagada on Seder night has become the paradigmatic model for a uniquely Jewish educational philosophy. What pedagogical message does the Torah convey to us in the laws of the Seder?

The Torah requires that we remember the Exodus from Egypt every day of our lives (Deut. 15:3). There is an additional Biblical commandment to tell the story of the Exodus from Egypt to our children on Seder night (Ex. 13:8). The difference between the two obligations would appear to be that the first can be fulfilled by a person alone and the second requires a parent and child. This reading, however, seems to be inconsistent with the Talmud, Pesachim 116a, which states that if the man has no son, his wife must ask him the four questions on Seder night, and if he has no son, he asks himself. Thus, the Talmud raises a question for us: if a person remains obligated in the obligation of "telling the story to his children" even if there are no children, what differentiates the obligation to tell the story of the Exodus on Seder night from the daily requirement of remembering the Exodus from Egypt?

One possible answer to this question can be found in a comment of Rabbeinu Asher ("the Rosh" – a 13th century Talmud commentator), who asks: why we do not make a blessing prior to reciting the Hagada, in violation of the general rule that we make a blessing prior to the performance of a positive commandment?

In answering this question, the Rosh states, the obligation to recount the Exodus from Egypt does not necessarily require the verbal recitation of the Hagada, but rather, "im yishael, mefarshim lo", if a child asks questions about the Seder, then we explain the Exodus to the child.

This Rosh raises a number of issues. Firstly, the verse in Exodus states explicitly 'vehigadta l'vincha' - you should "tell" your child about the Exodus from Egypt, which is commonly understood to require a verbal recitation. How do we reconcile these authorities with the Rosh's statement that the recitation of the Hagada is unnecessary? Secondly, if there is no obligation on Seder night to tell the story of the Exodus from Egypt, what is the obligation on that night? Thirdly, what would trigger a child's asking for an explanation of the events of the Exodus if the parent does not initiate discussion on the subject?

Our difficulty with the Rosh arises initially because of the widely-held assumption that we fulfill the obligation of remembering the Exodus with verbal acts, such as reciting the verses at the end of the last paragraph of Sh'ma. However, it is possible that verbal acts are not the only way that this mitsva can be fulfilled. Such an approach is apparent in Rashi's (11th century commentator) comments on the phrase "so that you will remember the day of your departure from the Land of Egypt." He states that the remembering required here occurs through the eating of the Paschal Lamb and matza, i.e., through physical acts.

It seems that the Rosh understands that the obligation to tell the story of the Exodus does not occur through the parent's verbal actions. Instead, the parent demonstrates the Exodus from Egypt physically, through the eating of matza and bitter herbs. When the child sees the parent engaged in the physical acts of commemorating the Exodus, this serves as a form of experiential telling which embodies the events of the Exodus. The Rosh adds, however, that if a child does not comprehend the meaning of the physical acts and asks what they mean, the parent is required to explain the meaning of the acts, because if the child doesn't immediately understand the physical action, they do not serve as a form of "telling".

We can derive several pedagogical lessons from the Rosh. Our actions are the earliest and most important lessons for our children. Before the opportunity for verbal explanation, the way we behave is the primary statement to our children as to who we are and what we believe in. In the obligation to "tell of the Exodus to your children," the Torah highlights for us that the first message we send to our children is the physical one, the eating of the matza and bitter herbs, and this is the primal form of telling. If, however, the child does not understand our actions, we are obligated to explain them, and not to brush them off with the standard phrases "when you're older you'll understand," or "because that's the way it's done here." It is our responsibility to validate the questions and give explanations adequate to the child's developmental capacity.

If we read the Rosh closely, in his description of what should take place at the Seder, he is describing a modern, child-centered educational environment. At the Seder night, we set up an child-centered classroom. But, the Rosh tells us, we are not to start lecturing the child about the rituals and ceremony, but rather, we go about our business performing the acts which the Torah commands for that night. Initially, the child just watches, and then if child's interest is ignited, the child opens the dialogue. The questions start from below, we respond to the child's cue. The adults stage the scene, set up the learning environment, create an atmosphere where questioning is possible, and then wait for the child to ask.

And so the lesson of the Seder night learned from the responsum of the Rosh, is this: if the child asks, you explain it to him. Our job is to develop "physical, visual, and tactile aids" that encourage our children to be inquisitive, not just on Seder night, but year round. We have to foster their sense of wonderment at the world, with the commandments, with Torah. And if the environment is an open one, a loving one, where questions are allowed and answers are true, then we will have begun a cycle of dialogue where learning is possible, and where knowledge can be transmitted through the generations.