Jewish World Review
An unabridged lesson
Your Seder too long? Here's a Chassidic tale about the importance of keeping liturgy and customs intact --- with a nice commentary on a section of the Hagadah, to boot.
http://www.jewishworldreview.com |
The Shpoler Zeide (1725-1812) was in a joyous mood as he sat down at the Seder
table with his family in Ukraine. The table gleamed, the children glowed and even his
rebbetzin -- rabbi's wife and helpmate -- sat with a contented, if tired, smile on her face.
After a final check that everything needed for the Seder was prepared, the great Chassidic master signaled for the children to start the ceremony with the traditional singing of the order of the Seder. When they were done, the Rebbe poured the Kiddush wine into his silver becher goblet and motioned for one of his younger sons, who had just begun cheder, formal schooling, to rise.
The child was confident that he had learned his lessons well, and so
he happily sang out in a loud voice: "Kadesh: When Father comes home from the
synagogue on Passover night, he must immediately recite the Kiddush."
Then the youngster sat down.
"Nu?" the Shpoler Zeide gently asked: "Why don't you finish the
explanation?"
The boy looked at his father with a puzzled expression.
"That's all my teacher taught us to say," he replied. "Didn't I say it
well?"
"What you said, you said very well," the Shpoler Zeide replied, as he flashed a warm smile. He then proceeded to recite the Kiddush with a joyful heart.
Yet, as the Seder progressed, a nagging thought kept popping into the
saint's mind: Why did my son's instructor change a time-honored
tradition by shortening the children's lines?
For hundreds of years, schoolmasters had taught their charges to
recite by heart short explanations that introduce each stage of the Seder ceremony.
When the Shpoler Zeide's son was asked to introduce "Kadesh," the boy should
have boomed: "Kadesh: When Father comes home from synagogue on Passover night, he must immediately recite the Kiddush, so that the little children will not fall
asleep and they will ask the Four Questions beginning with Ma Nishtana."
The fact that the instructor had not taught his students the second
half of the explanation troubled the Shpoler Zeide immensely. When the Rebbe
saw that his son's teacher was one of the guests for the holiday meal the
next morning, he asked the teacher to explain his behavior.
"The children are very young and it's hard for them to concentrate,"
the teacher replied matter-of-factly. "Because there is so much to learn, I decided to make
it easier for them by cutting out some of the unnecessary parts. The second
half of the explanation for Kadesh isn't really so important since we are
all required to recite Kiddush early, even if there are no little children at
the Seder."
The Shpoler Zeide looked at the instructor in shock.
"Who are you to decide what is important and what is not?" the
Shpoler Zeide cried. "Are you wiser than the generations of schoolteachers
who have come before you? If you understood the true meaning of these
explanations, you wouldn't dare change so much as a syllable of what has
come down to us through the ages. Every syllable of the Seder narrative has a deep, multi-level meaning."
It had certainly not been the teacher's intention to
cause such a commotion --- either at the Rebbe's table, or Above. By now, though, it was
becoming clear that his transgression had been very grave, indeed.
The other Chassidim who were gathered around the table, were
clamoring for an explanation, and the Shpoler Zeide was just as eager to provide them with one. When it came to Seder Night, there was no such thing as a
trivial custom.
"You will undoubtedly recall," the Shpoler Zeide began, "that in the
Zohar it is written, 'Rav Chiya opened his discourse and said, 'I am asleep,
but my heart is awake.' Thus says the House of Israel, 'I am asleep during
the exile.'
"From Rav Chiya's explanation of these words from Song of Songs,"
the Rebbe continued, "we see that during the exile the Jews are unable to
reach the higher levels of spiritual sensitivity -- it is as if they are
asleep -- because they are pursued and afflicted by their enemies."
The Shpoler Zeide stopped speaking, and a heavy silence filled the
room. The Chassidim were even more puzzled than before. What, after all, did this
teaching from the Zohar, the mystical book of the Kabalah, have to do with youngsters singing at the Seder?
"When Father comes home from the synagogue on Passover night," the Shpoler
Zeide sang out in a sing-song voice, "what does it mean? When our Father in
Heaven sees from His abode On High that all the Jews have gone to synagogue and
poured out their souls in prayer and songs of thanksgiving -- even though they
are all exhausted from the heavy work of preparing for Passover -- then …
"He must recite Kiddush right away," the Shpoler Zeide continued.
"That is to say, the Creator must renew his betrothal -- his Kiddushin, of which the word Kidush shares the same root -- to Jewry right away. He must redeem us from exile right away."
The Shpoler Zeide turned his glance to the teacher and asked, "Can
you tell us why our Father in Heaven must redeem us straight away?"
"So that the little children will not fall asleep," the teacher replied, softly.
"And who are the 'little children'?" prodded the Shpoler Zeide.
"Jewry," whispered the teacher.
"That's exactly right," the Rebbe said. "For is it not written in
Jeremiah: 'Is not Ephraim my beloved son, a precious child?' So tell me,
how is it possible that there can be a Seder where there are no 'little
children' present?"
The teacher, of course, had no answer to the Shpoler Zeide's
question, and the Rebbe finished his homile.
"The Creator must act quickly," explained the saint, "so that His
children will not fall too deeply into the slumber of exile. He must act
right away so that we will not despair, Heaven forbid, of never being
redeemed.
"He must act," the Rebbe continued, "while we still have the
strength to ask, 'Ma Nishtana?' Why is this night -- why is this bitter exile --
different from all other nights? Why has this dark exile been so prolonged?
Why does it not end?"
The Shpoler Zeide suddenly threw his head back and gave out a long
wail.
"Master of the Universe," the saint cried, "redeem us quickly, while
our hearts, at least, are still awake! Please don't let us fall into the
dark slumber of despair!
"Even when it is night, a 'child' can still gladden the heart of
his Father."
And then the great Chassidic master stood up.
"Let's show our Father in Heaven that we know how to dance --- even in the dark!"
And with that the saint beckoned to his Chassidim to join him in a
dance. Soon they were all circling faster and faster, in rhythm with the
uplifting beat of the joyous song. As their spirits soared higher and
higher, the face of the Shpoler Zeide beamed once more with its accustomed
glow of inspired ecstasy.
Every heart was now awake and joyfully cleaving to its
Father in Heaven. The pain of the dark exile was, for the moment, completely
By Linda Feinberg
Linda Feinberg is a columnist for Yated Ne'eman. Send your comments by clicking here.