Preparing for the Seder – in Q&A format

16 – Preparing for the Seder – in Q&A format

Editor’s Note: What follows is a Question and Answer session in Los Angeles, California shortly before Pesach. Each new header is a new topic that was discussed.

Covid-19 and Pesach

During the Covid pandemic, we emphasized that Hashem was delivering a profound message to us, urging us to reflect deeply. We cautioned that if, after Covid, we simply returned to our previous routines, this would be a sign that we failed to heed the message.

However, the reality has proven even more troubling. Not only have we reverted to normalcy, but the world is now advocating for a Nobel Prize to honor the scientists who purportedly ‘conquered Covid’—a stance that directly contradicts the lesson of human fragility and dependence that Hashem intended to impart. 

Moreover, global stability has deteriorated further since Covid. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has plunged the world into uncertainty, casting a shadow over daily life. During Covid, we feared for our personal safety—isolated and uncertain about the future. Yet today, as international conflicts escalate in Europe and throughout the world, that fear has intensified far beyond what we experienced then, amplifying our sense of vulnerability.

Consequently, we cannot claim to be looking back at Covid with the clarity of hindsight being 20/20 to discern its full meaning. We remain in the early stages of an unfolding process, wherein Hashem is entering our reality in a manner distinct from past generations. Historically, reality served as a stage upon which Hashem orchestrated events to demonstrate His power and presence. Now, however, the stage itself—reality as we understand it—appears fractured. It is not merely the events unfolding that signal change, but the very foundation of our existence coming apart, compelling us to recognize Hashem’s presence in an unprecedented and undeniable way. 

Indeed, in the generations prior to Covid, we sought patterns of ‘schar v’onesh’—reward and punishment—as a way to understand Hashem’s ways and strengthen our emunah. In our post Covid world the lesson of emunah is in a fundamentally different hanhaga, one that moves beyond the framework of schar v’onesh. It reveals that Hashem is engaging directly with the fabric of reality itself. This shift mirrors the miracle of Krias Yam Suf, where the waters didn’t just part at the sea, but rather every body of water in the world split, even in a drinking cup. Why? Because the very nature of reality was transformed; water itself was redefined in that moment!

This stands in contrast to the ten makkos, where Hashem operated ‘within reality,’ orchestrating events through the existing natural order. At krias Yam Suf, however, the miracle wasn’t merely an act within the world—it altered ‘how reality works.’ Hashem’s presence then, as now, demonstrated a hanhaga that transcended the boundaries of reward and punishment.

How to give over the message of Leil Haseder to our children

For children, the message of Leil Haseder should be simple and clear: “Hashem is with us, He loves us, and He cares about us.” The father should be the one telling the story and he should do so in the most simple way. The children can save their own divrei torah which they learned in school for a different yom tov meal.    

A few thoughts on the Haggadah

“Harei Ani K’ben Shivim Shana” (Behold, I am like a seventy-year-old)

We said above that the father should give over the simple story of the haggadah to his family. When he prepares to do this he will encounter all sorts of interesting challenges. For example, the paragraph in the haggadah which begins with R’ Elazar Ben Azarya describing himself as a 70 year man presents us with a challenge. Why is this detail included in the Haggadah? What does this great rabbi’s hair turning white overnight have to do with the simple story of Yetzias Mitzrayim?

“Shomer Havtachaso”  (Hashem keeps His promise)

With our approach to telling over the simple story, the message is “Hashem is with us, He loves us, and He cares about us.” We can then ask our family questions at the seder such as “Why does Hashem, who holds limitless power and faces no obstacles, need to make a promise about what He’ll do? Nothing can stop Him from fulfilling His will—His ratzon (Will) is absolute—so why does the haggadah highlight that He binds Himself with a havtacha (promise)?”

We will be surprised by what our children come up with; my seven-year-old son offered a beautiful answer: “So that we’ll daven to Him.” This is a gem of an insight! The promise isn’t for Hashem’s sake—it’s for ours.

“We would still be in Mitzrayim”

Here is another insight that brings out the message of Pesach; The Haggadah declares that if Hashem hadn’t taken us out, “we would still be slaves to Pharaoh in Mitzrayim.” But is this really true? Could a nation remain enslaved for over 3,000 years? History doesn’t seem to bear out such a scenario—empires rise and fall, slavery shifts. So what does this mean? A deeper answer emerges: history itself—the changes, the upheavals—only happens because Hashem drives it toward an ultimate tachlis, a divine agenda.

Without the geulah of Klal Yisroel, without the giluy of Hashem in this world through Torah and mitzvos (what we’ve been calling “hashra’as hashechina,” the indwelling of the Shechina, the purpose of Leil HaSeder), there’d be no movement in history at all. Everything would stay frozen—static. If there’s no purpose, no revelation of Hashem’s plan, why would anything change? Indeed, “we would still be slaves to Pharaoh in Mitzrayim!”

“Even if we are all knowledgeable” we need to tell the story

The Haggadah tells us, “even if we were all wise, all men of understanding, all well-versed in Torah” we still have an obligation to tell the story of Yetzias Mitzrayim. 

We see from here that telling a story is not just about knowing the facts. Indeed, when you have a good story, you don’t read it once and put it away—you go back to it again and again. This isn’t about filling gaps in our knowledge; it’s about living the narrative. Yetzias Mitzrayim isn’t some dry history lesson—it’s our life, our essence. So we tell the story, not to learn something new, but to relive who we are.

It is akin to a personal experience that becomes part of our own life’s tale. Imagine someone gets into a car crash—flies through the windshield, lands on the ground, and walks away one hundred percent fine. Do they just shrug it off and “go back to normal”? No way! They tell the story—to their friends, their family, anyone who’ll listen. They’re shaken by it, moved to their core, and they repeat it over and over because it’s a part of their life!

EHYH asher EHYH

“EHYH asher EHYH”—“I will be what I will be” is the name of Hashem that ushers in the geula, the central point of Yetzias Mitzrayim. This name carries a profound promise: “There will be a geula, even though right now you’re enslaved and suffering.” The Ramban sheds light on this, explaining that Klal Yisroel’s suffering was so crushing that even if someone told them, “Tomorrow, the slavery will lighten up,” they wouldn’t believe it. Their pain drowned out any hope for the future—they hit yeush, despair, the 50th level of tumah (contamination), the absolute bottom. At that point, they couldn’t sink lower, and Hashem had to step in. The geula came not because they were tzadikim who earned it with perfect deeds, but because, deep down, they held onto a spark of emunah—a belief that “something will happen,” that Hashem has a plan unfolding for the world. That is the “EHYH asher EHYH” which Moshe tells Klal Yisroel.

For us today, this offers a powerful chizuk. We have an incredible zechus (merit) to be part of this giluy shechina, this unfolding revelation, on such a lofty level. The Gemara in Rosh Hashanah asks, “Why do we blow shofar?” At first, it answers simply, “Because the Torah says so.” But then it digs deeper: “What’s the remez (hint)?” The Rambam brings this down l’halacha, noting that while tekias shofar is a g’zeiras hakasuv—a decree straight from the Torah—there’s also a remez within it. On one level, the fact is that tekias shofar ripples into Hashem’s realm, shifting Him from the kisei din to the kisei rachamim (throne of judgement to the throne of compassion). This can only happen because it’s a divine decree—man can not force a change in Hashem’s hanhaga. Yet, there’s another side: the remez of tekias shofar is asking of us our part in the g’zeras hakasuv and cries out to us, “Uru yishenim mishinaschem”—“Wake up, sleepers, from your slumber!” It’s a call for teshuva, our role in this partnership which does affect the upper realms, i.e. Hashem’s hanhaga!

Through tekias shofar, we’re not just following a mitzvah—we’re active participants with Hashem, affecting the upper realms and shifting His hanhaga. When we truly grasp this kesher (relationship), it stirs a deep yiras shamayim, an awe-filled sense of the greatness of our zechus. We’re not just bystanders; we’re partners with Hashem Himself!