By Rabbi Yitzchak Shurin
In general, we find that the rabbis discouraged long-windedness, as it says in Pirkei Avot (1:17): “Vechol hamarbeh dvarim meivi chet – One who speaks excessively brings on sin.” They also applied this to learning: “A teacher should teach his student in the shortest fashion” (Pesachim 3b). It is therefore very curious that in order to properly fulfill the mitzvah of sippur yetziat Mitzrayim, telling the story of the Exodus from Egypt, Chazal encouraged verbosity.
The Gemara tells us that the matzah is referred to as “lechem oni” not only because it is bread of affliction but because it is “lechem she’onim alav devarim harbeh,” bread about which many things are said (from the root הנע, to make a declaration). This is reinforced by the author of the Haggadah, who stresses from the outset, “Anyone who speaks much about the Exodus harei zeh meshubach is praiseworthy.” Reb Chaim Vital, the great kabbalist of Tsfat, explains the name “Pesach” as a combination of two words: peh sach, the mouth converses. Why is the idea of speech so intrinsically connected with our chag?
Telling our story of freedom is distinctly different from other speech-related mitzvot, like prayer or learning. Normally speech is merely a vehicle for the fulfillment of the mitzvah; but in the case of the Pesach Seder, the mitzvah lies in the speech itself. The essence of the mitzvah is not only the communication, but also the expression of freedom that speech represents. The more we speak, the more the atmosphere of freedom has been achieved.
Targum Onkeles on the verse, “God blew within his nostrils a soul of life, and man became a nefesh chayah, a living being” (Bereshit 2:7) says, “and man became a ruach memallela,” a speaking spirit. In other words, the essence of man’s creation is his ability to speak and communicate. If this ability ceases to exist, his essence is lost. Through speech, one gains clarity, and clarity leads to self-realization. Once a person or a nation realizes its individuality and uniqueness, it can never be enslaved because it realizes its true purpose.
When Moshe Rabbeinu came to Pharaoh, he did not suffice with, “Let my people go free” but always added, “veya’avduni”, “so that they can serve Me”. Freedom is not truly achieved unless one has consciousness of purpose; without this, man becomes a slave without a master.
Rabbi Yitzchok Meltzen, a friend of Rabbi Yisroel Salanter, comments that the Haggadah tells the story of the rabbis leaning around the table in Bnei Brak to prove that not only when the Jews have peace and tranquility do we have the mitzvah to tell the story of the Exodus, but even in a state of war, exile, and subjugation, like that which was taking place then under Roman rule. As long as a nation has the liberty to express its history and vision, no matter how much that nation is subjugated, it still retains its independent character. In fact, when a nation is physically oppressed, it becomes even more necessary to realize its uniqueness, individuality, self-expression, and selfdetermination.
Here lies the secret of Jewish survival throughout our history. The Haggadah conveys the message that when times are rough, we must work harder and longer towards regaining our uniqueness of purpose. At that point, our students can say, “Our teachers, you have achieved freedom. Now fulfill your purpose and go serve God; higiya zman kriyat Shema, the time has come to say the Shema”.