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The Four Children’s Siblings

04/05/2024 02:15:36 PM

Apr5

Peter H. Grumbacher, Interim Rabbi

There’s a countdown to Passover. In two weeks from this Monday evening Jews will be sitting around the table for the wonderful seder ceremony that recalls, year after year after year, our exodus from Egypt. Leaving slavery, being free once we crossed the Red Sea, and then receiving the Ten Commandments on Mount Sinai, is actually a cycle. We begin on Passover and conclude on
Shavuot; and then next year we begin on Passover and conclude on Shavuot…on and on and on for thousands of years. It’s important to us; it defines who we are and how we get from point A to point B, and ultimately to today.
As part of that definition we have carefully crafted selections in our Haggadah. We welcome the hungry when we recite Ha Lachma Anya, “Behold, this is the bread of affliction.” It’s written not in Hebrew but in Aramaic, the only selection in the Haggadah not written in Hebrew. Why? Because the
people – rich and poor – spoke Aramaic on the street, but prayed in Hebrew, just like many of our Eastern European prayed in Hebrew but spoke Yiddish. We cannot send an invitation to join us in a meal if those who receive the invitation have no clue what you’re talking about. That would be like sending menus to hungry people; it does them no good.
Another carefully crafted selection is the section we call the Four Children, previously called the Four Sons. We have the wise and the
wicked, the simple and the one too young to even ask a question.
We’re told that the wise child is wise because he includes herself in the exodus experience. It happened way back when, but that wise child knows that she is part of the chain of tradition that goes back all those centuries.
The wicked child is the one who doesn’t include himself. That child stands apart from the Jewish people. “What does all this mean to you,” is what the child asks. We don’t look
kindly on the person who though brought up in our faith, whose parents involved him in all our rituals, who celebrated Bar Mitzvah, still stands apart. In fact, he stands alone as it were. There might be others like him; there are others like him, but in his rebellion he wouldn’t even know to whom he should talk, perhaps to find out the answer to the important question he asks.
The one who is considered simple, well, it’s how we define “simple” that’s important. All the commentators say that this child is not
“simple” regardless how we define the word. “Simple” is in English, and we attribute certain negative attributes to the word and, therefore, to the child. But the rabbis say that even though that child asks only, “What is this?”, it shows the interest in the saga. That child has an open question; we can answer ad infinitum, and you can be sure we rabbis are really good at answering any question ad infinitum…until we and you are blue in the face.
The child unable to ask. That’s a kid we shouldn’t necessarily believe is a baby, though
that’s how many have interpreted it. Believe it or not, many have compared that child to the wicked one. The difference is this child is not clever; this child doesn’t have the sophistication to challenge the adults; this child therefore doesn’t open his mouth. One might say this child is “passive aggressive,” if one were so inclined. And, say the commentators, this child is quiet so that he can absorb the intent of the evil child’s question. When the child is ready there will be
the same kind of distance between tradition and the rebellious mindset of the evil one.
And you and I thought we knew who these four kids were and the questions they asked.
Truth be told, what this whole things proves is that once again we Jews are so very open to discussion, to interpretation, to the many points of view we’ve always had whether coming from religion or politics or economics or even whether the sun is shining or if it’s raining. If there’s a choice, whether right or
wrong, we pick one and run with it. Or, we pick two. You know, ten Jews, eleven opinions.
(Let me state that for the sake of a smidgeon of brevity, I’m going to leave the definition of the traditional four children at that, but might take a look at other definitions in my column the week before Pesach)
So keeping in mind the nature of Jewish interpretations, I propose that these kids had siblings, at least four other boys and girls who had their own quirky questions, their own quirky personalities. And all of them came to
light in the seder, under the same category of the Four Children…only now there are more.
We’ve got the creative child. This young person is tired of the Haggadah, not the story. In fact, there was pride in being part of the tradition that created the story. Rather this child was bored with the sameness of the story. This child likes to retell the story for sure, but every Passover there’s a twist because this child wants to make it interesting. I don’t mean to brag…much…but I put myself in this category, and I’m proud of
the way I’ve sort of manipulated the event. Two years ago the theme was “The 50’s” with the song of the seder being, “Wake Up Little Suzy” (I told Suzy not to take it personally). I didn’t write new lyrics to old songs – I did that once when my theme was “Broadway Musicals Whose Songs I Know By Heart.” No, this time I just gave new names to the items on the seder plate. For example, our guests had to guess what on the plate could be matched with “It Only Hurts for a Little While.” That was the horseradish of course. Or “Breaking Up is Hard
to Do.” Well, I’m asking you…what was it? Matzah. Remember the song “Searchin’”? That was for the Afikoman. Enough of that.
Then there’s the other sibling…Ms Impatient. “C’mon, let’s get to Dayenu, already” (Dayenu of course meaning, “It would have been enough for us”). And once Dayenu ends, she asks, “When’s dinner?” Ms Impatient doesn’t realize that each and every segment of the seder has its own meaning. Each is based on some aspect of the exodus story, and should you decide to skip it, that’s one piece of our
tradition that has disappeared for another year. And who knows? If Ms Impatient keeps doing it, there might be nothing left.
Another sibling might be called, Mr. I Love the Story But I Love My Stomach More.” I know someone whose family didn’t have a seder. Well, they did, but it was a recording. They ate while the narration played. Their timing was impeccable from what I understand…dessert was over once the narrator said, Bashanah ha-ba-ah b’yirushayim, “Next year in Jerusalem!”
D’ja hear about the child who might be called The Universal Child. I love this kid. When it comes to the prophetic message of Judaism, he or she incorporates it into everything. Cognizant of the slavery and suffering all people endured and continue to endure today, that child sees social justice oozing out of the seder. And that child is right. Whether included were the persecuted in pre-Holocaust Germany, or the imprisoned and murdered in the Shoah, or the plight of Soviet Jewry, or those suffering under any regime that feels
free to step on their freedom, even the innocent victims in Gaza, the Universal Child will see the injustice in what’s going on in the world. The seder will have particular meaning for this person.
And then there is the sibling that concerns me the most. The Embarrassed Child. This is the child who is embarrassed to be Jewish. This kid might be given a totally Pesach-dik lunch for school, but would rather go hungry than open it in front of his peers. It’s tossed in the trash. In one of my interim congregations
there was an adult – who once was a kid and I imagine he was the same then as he was now – who said in front of a church group who came to experience our service, “Our Sabbath goes from Friday night through Sunday.” It was an off-week for me, but when I came the next week I had already heard about this, and I confronted him. “Well, Rabbi, we don’t do much on Sunday, and I wanted them not to think we were that different from them.” As I stand here, I swear that’s what he said. I told him point blank that he shouldn’t think them to
be so stupid. Rather, they sensed what I might term “self-hatred” or at least embarrassment being a Jew, being different.
Perhaps you can think of other siblings for the Four Children. But whether or not you can, maybe this is a question you can ask your seder guests. The point is as I’ve mentioned before, Take Passover seriously. You can have fun; you should have fun. But the Pesach message is eternal. It was important back then (remember, never let the facts interfere with the truth), and it’s important today, and will be
important tomorrow. Do what you can to insure that your children and theirs will have Pesach, will conduct the seder, will be conscious of its meaning, today, yes, but, please God, tomorrow as well.

Tue, November 12 2024 11 Cheshvan 5785