Yesterday we held our Junior Seder for families with children and it was great — tell the families with young children you know, so they can take advantage of it, next year! That said, when, right at the beginning of the Seder, I began presenting elements that have been added to Seder plates in the past 50 or 60 years, the parents looked at me as if I were speaking gibberish.
New elements? On the Seder plate?! Their eyes seemed to say. “This is a tradition our ancestors have practised without any change since we left Egypt!”
Well… not quite. The Seder is a work in progress, and many of its most recognisable elements were added slowly over the centuries. Until the destruction of the Temple in the year 70 CE, Pesach was significantly different, centred around animal sacrifices — specifically the sacrifice of a perfect yearling lamb, reminiscent of the first celebration of Passover, still in Egypt.
After the destruction, rabbinic sages had to forge new practices. The Seder that developed was partly inspired by the Greco-Roman symposium, a social and intellectual gathering centred on wine, conversation, and a festive meal. The symposium involved reclining on couches, asking and answering questions, drinking multiple cups of wine, and engaging in storytelling.
As the Seder evolved, this influence became clearly visible in rabbinic texts, where it takes on many features of a symposium. The table ritual of the Seder, first described in the late 2nd or early 3rd centuries in the Mishnah and the Tosefta, echoed the etiquette and table fellowship of the Greco-Roman symposium.
Not surprisingly, some of the earliest elements of the Seder recorded in rabbinic documents were the four cups of wine. While not explicitly termed "reclining," the Mishnah reflects the influence of the symposium through its emphasis on reclining on couches. The practice of asking questions was also present; the Mishnah describes the parent initiating discussion with four observations — similar but not identical to the later Four Questions (Ma Nishtanah). The Mishnah also outlines the principle that the Passover story should begin with disgrace and end with praise. Furthermore, several ritual foods are mentioned in the Mishnah and in the Tosefta: maror, matzah, karpas, and bitter lettuce dipped in charoset, according to the Tosefta.
The Talmud (compiled in the fifth and sixth centuries) expanded upon these ideas, engaging in scholarly debate over various aspects of the Passover ceremony—such as the number of wine cups and the appropriate blessings. While these discussions elaborated earlier concepts, the first known Haggadah in a more complete written form is part of the Seder of Rav Amram Gaon of Babylonia, compiled around the year 860 CE. This book, which included the prayers for the entire year, marked a major step in codifying the Passover liturgy.
The first stand-alone Haggadah appeared almost five centuries later, around 1320, and originated in Spain. It was still handwritten. The first printed Haggadah followed in 1486, also in Spain. [1]
Some of the songs in the Seder are also later additions. The earliest full text we have for Dayenu comes from Seder Rav Amram in the 9th century. However, Echad Mi Yodea first appears in Ashkenazic Haggadot of the 16th century and in non-Ashkenazic Haggadot only in the 19th century. [2] Chad Gadya is also from the 16th century. One might assume the traditional melody for Ma Nishtanah is ancient, given its widespread use across Jewish communities. I was surprised to learn that Ephraim Abileah, a Russian composer and son of a chazan, wrote it only in 1936. [3]
The 20th century witnessed a significant diversification of Haggadot, as various Jewish movements sought texts that resonated with their contemporary realities. The Reform movement created Haggadot reflecting modern sensibilities and American identity. Kibbutzim in Israel developed secular Haggadot emphasising nature, communal values, and national independence. The Jewish labour movement in America crafted Haggadot with socialist and progressive themes. Even within more traditional frameworks, Haggadot began to include reflections on the Shoah and the establishment of the State of Israel—connecting the Passover narrative to pivotal events of the time. This period saw an increase in the dynamism of the Haggadah text, continually adapted to express the evolving ideologies and historical experiences of Jewish communities around the world.
So… despite what some may have learned in school, the Haggadah is not a closed document, and the Seder is not a finished ritual. One of the guiding principles of the Seder is:
“In every generation, a person should see themselves as if they had personally left Egypt, as it is written: ‘And you shall tell your child on that day, saying: This is what ה׳ did for me when I came out of Egypt.’” [4]
The only way to achieve this is to bring our own lives into the ritual—to speak about our personal struggles, the ongoing fight for freedom in our times, the need to act for the downtrodden in our streets. We must speak about the persecutions we’ve endured—the Pharaohs under whom we have suffered—and also about the moments when we acted like Pharaohs. To examine what imprisons us—individually and as a community—and how we might break free.
Like Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur — set at a healthy distance of half a year from Pesach — this is an opportunity for personal growth, not merely an obligation to repeat ritual that may feel rote or disconnected. If your family’s Seder currently lacks meaning for you, I’d love to talk with you after the service. I’d be glad to offer ideas to help renew your tradition.
The story of Pesach is the foundational narrative of the Jewish people, and its annual celebration invites us to revisit what it means to be Jewish in today’s world.
Will you accept that invitation?
Shabbat Shalom.
[1] Vanessa Ochs, The Passover Haggadah (Lives of Great Religious Books)
[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Echad_Mi_Yodea
[3] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ephraim_Abileah
[4] Mishnah Pesachim 10:5
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário