Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel

Children have an unusual ability when it comes to confronting our spiritual hypocrisy as parents and as adults; very often they get to the essence of the problem as they perceive things. Frequently, as parents, we often fail to hear the questions our young people ask of us; often we overreact whenever we feel that our beliefs and values are being questioned or attacked. Rather than listening with an inner ear, as parents, we often react with harshness and anger.

Sometimes we wish our children were more respectful and compliant, or at least, “mind their place” at the Seder table and not misbehave or draw undue attention to themselves. As any Woody Allen fan certainly knows, passionate family discussions always have been a part of Jewish life since ancient times. Unanimity never has been the goal of any kind of discussion wherever you have two or more Jews together engaged in dialogue.

Passover is no exception to this rule.

During Passover, this thought finds expression in the question of the “Rasha” (better known to most of us as the “wicked child”). Without his presence and participation, the entire Seder would be a dull experience. Here is a literal translation of the controversial passage we read in the Passover Hagadah:

“The wicked child, what does that he say? ‘What is this service to you?’ Note the Torah says, to you, but not to him; because he has excluded himself from the community. He has denied a basic teaching of the faith. Therefore you shall smack his teeth and tell him, It is because of this that God wrought for me in my going out of Egypt (Exod. 13:8). . . . ‘For me--but not him. Had he been there, he would not have been redeemed.”

As a parent, I often have wondered how anyone could call their child “wicked.” The glaring meaning of “Rasha” is arguably offensive. If we are to choose a less offensive title, let us describe him or her as a “Wayward Child,” or perhaps more accurately a “Rebellious Child.”At any rate, our “Rasha” is a person who is a young person who stands perilously close to the edge of his/her Judaism. Without a proper pedagogical response, the “Rasha” may grow up to disaffiliate as a Jew. So we wonder: Why does the “Rasha” strike such a visceral note? The anger of the father deserves special attention. Why does he get so upset? How could a simple question push a parent to act so violently at the family Seder? Clearly, the “Rasha” has touched a raw nerve in his father.

If my conjecture is correct, the “Rasha’s” question now begins to make more sense, for she/he may be a child who is dissatisfied with superficial answers. The father may love tradition, but he lacks the ability to articulate to his rebellious adolescent child what it means to be a Jew, especially in a modern age. Of all the children who are present at the Seder table, the “Rasha” is asking the best question of them all.

On a deeper level, the question, “What does this service mean to YOU?” Put in different terms, the child asks, “If the Seder has no deeper meaning for YOU, why should it have any special meaning for ME? How can I make this Seder a self-authenticating experience if the Seder is nothing more than a mechanical exercise? Until I find out the answer, I will not be subject to you or any tradition until I know for sure what it really means, assuming that it means anything at all.”

As I mentioned in the beginning of this article, children have a way of discerning a parent’s Achilles’ heel. A child knows when parents are just breezing through the motions of religious life. Maybe the rebellious child has a good reason to rebel, for she/he instinctively knows when a parent is real or unreal. The “Rasha” may well see something hollow about his “religious” father.

As parents, Passover reminds us that we need to constantly reexamine what it means to celebrate freedom. If the story of Passover has personal meaning for us, then we will better be able to articulate a response to the most difficult question of the Seder: “What does this service mean to you?”

Rabbi Michael Samuel serves at the Tri City Jewish Center, in Rock Island, and is among a group of rotating faith&value columnists