(2009/5769)

In a puzzling Gemara (Pesachim 116a), Rav Nachman asks his servant Daro what a slave should say if his master freed him and gave him gold and silver? Daro answered that he should praise his master. Rav Nachman replied, “You (Daro) have exempted us from the Mah Nishtanah.” Rav Moshe Feinstein asked how Daro’s answer could be sufficient to exempt them from the Mah Nishtanah if he didn’t even ask a question – he gave an answer! At a more basic level, why are questions given so much emphasis on Pesach? It seems pretty obvious that the reason for the holiday is that Hashem redeemed us from Egypt; there should be little need to ask questions! Furthermore, what is the significance of the Arbaah Banim (the four sons) and their questions?

One can understand the Chacham as pointing out that someone who used to be wealthy and lost his riches would presumably suffer much more than a poor man who lost the little wealth he had. Therefore, he asks, “What are all these laws that Hashem commanded doing here?” Why, in exile, are we reminiscing about all the wealth and grandeur we once had? The first question of the Mah Nishtanah is the Chacham’s question. He asks, “HaLaylah HaZeh Kulo Matzah,” this night (in the sense of a symbol of darkness) of our exile is full of Matzah, poor man’s bread, so why are we referring to our past salvation?

The Rasha, the evil son, asks, “What is this work to you?” Instead of observing all the Mitzvot, would it not make more sense to assimilate into society in order to be successful in life? The Rasha’s question in the Mah Nishtanah is, “Why are we leaning?” Instead of engaging the ridiculous practice of leaning like kings, we should go out into the world and engage in business and trade! What is the point of remaining connected to the past?

The Tam, albeit in a lesser but sharper way, asks the Rasha’s question: “What is this?” Why are we still protecting our individuality? What is the significance of dipping twice? We dip Karpas, an enjoyable food, in unpleasant salt water; on the other hand, we dip Maror, which tastes terrible, in sweet Charoset! This symbolizes a “catch-22”: if we observe the Torah, our livelihood will suffer, but if we become absorbed into the world, our livelihood will flourish but devoid of true meaning!

The final son, the one who does not even know how to ask, is silent. He is so apathetic that he does not care. When it suits him, he will do Mitzvot, and when it suits him, he will do Aveirot. This entire night is bitter Maror; what is the point of Judaism?

The answer to all these questions is unilateral. The questions may have been valid if not for the fact that we were once slaves in Egypt. Not only were we slaves, but there was no way for the Jews to break free without a miracle. We required miracles the world had not seen since Maaseh BeReishit: miracles which gave light to some and dark to others and which let one people step on dry land while an army met its doom in the same place. This is the reason we have a Seder. What HaKadosh Baruch Hu did for us was beyond nature; therefore, we engage in something which, under normal circumstances, would be illogical.

Rav Moshe explained that this is why Daro exempted everyone from the Mah Nishtanah. If Daro, a useless servant, would have been freed from Rav Nachman, a rich and benevolent master, it would only be a matter of time before the money would run out and Daro would be looking for another master, who would probably be much harsher. Daro’s predicament is what puzzles all of the sons. What is the celebration for being freed from Mitzrayim when, in a matter of time, the Jewish people would be exiled again? We answer this with Avadim Hayinu. The true redemption was not a physical one, but a spiritual redemption accomplished when HaKadosh Baruch Hu took us out of Mitzrayim and brought us to Har Sinai.

Hardships in life often give the impression that, as individuals and as a people, we are not free but shackled and weighed down. Yet we are free. “Ein Lecha Ben Chorin Ela Mi SheOseik BeTalmud Torah,” “The only freeman is one who immerses himself in the study of Torah” (Pirkei Avot 6:2). When we were taken out of Mitzrayim, we weren’t just freed temporarily until the next exile, but Yetziat Mitzrayim was a freedom that was eternal.