Ignoring the Torah to help the Rasha
One of the more interesting facts about Maggid is that the Four Children we read about – the Ḥakham, Rasha, Tam, and She-Eino Yodea Lishol – are not invented by the Haggadah itself but an adaptation of statements made by Ḥazal in a few different places (such as Yerushalmi Pesaḥim 10:4 and Mekhilta de-Rebbi Yishmael, Prisha 18).
And these statements of Ḥazal are themselves derived from four different verses in the Torah, in which – to some degree or another – the Torah mentions a time when we are asked questions by our children (Ex. 12:23–27; 13:5–8, 11–15; Deut. 6:20–25).
And, if you look up all of these verses, you’ll see that the very question asked by one of the children in the Haggadah is that very same question recorded in the Torah.
Take, for example, the Rasha, the Wicked Child – my focus for this idea. The Haggadah tells us that the Rasha’s question is “what is this worship to you?” And, if you look up Ex. 12:26 you will find written there “And when your children ask you, ‘what is this worship to you?’”
So far, so simple. But here is where things start to spin a little out of control. Because the very next verse in the Torah provides the answer to that question: “You shall say, ‘It is the pesaḥ sacrifice to the LORD, because He passed over the houses of the Israelites in Egypt when He smote the Egyptians but saved our houses.’”
If the Haggadah were simply following the Torah’s template, this would be the answer to the Rasha. But it isn’t. This answer is dropped from the Four Children completely. Instead, the Haggadah opts for a different answer in the Torah – the answer to a different question from a child: “It is because of what the LORD did for me when I went free from Egypt” (Ex. 13:8).
And, to make things even more confusing (!), the Haggadah double-dips here! It uses the same answer for both the Rasha and the She-Eino Yodea Lishol (with the latter actually making sense as in this part of the Torah there is no explicit question asked by a child).
To summarize all this madness thus far: the question of the Rasha is drawn from a series of verses in which a child asks a question, and the Torah provides the answer. But that answer is ignored in favor of a different one – one already used for one of the other four children!
But wait! There’s more! Because, as Rabbi Yehuda Herzl Henkin, a major halakhic decisor in the Modern Orthodox and Religious Zionist world – who only passed away in 2020 and was the grandson of the Rabbi Yosef Eliyahu Henkin, one of the great rabbis of early 20th century Orthodoxy – notes, the very answer provided by the Torah to the Rasha’s question should be perfect (Responsa Benei Banim Vol. IV, Essay §11).
The other three answers provided by the Torah all start by instructing us to directly address the child asking the question: “You shall tell your child” (Ex. 13:8), “You shall say to them” (Ex. 13:14), and “You shall say to your children” (Deut. 6:21).
But, when it comes to the question of the Rasha, the Torah opts for a different framing: “You shall say” (Ex. 12:27). Unlike the other three questions, here the Torah suggests that the person declare the answer, rather than attempting to actually answer the child.
And this should thus be the perfect response to the Rasha! Because the Haggadah’s entire gripe with the Rasha is the fact that they frame their question as “what does this worship mean to you?” As the Haggadah stresses, the Rasha’s reference to you illustrates that the Rasha does not see themselves as part of the Jewish people. “You people do this nonsense,” the Rasha snaps, “but not me.”
And so it should make perfect sense that our answer to the Rasha is the one provided by the Torah, the declaration “You shall say.” The Rasha is not asking their question in good faith, they don’t actually want an answer – and so our goal at the table should be to ignore them and shore up our own faith by declaring to ourselves and everyone else at the Seder other than the Rasha why we do the things we do.
But the Haggadah ignores this incredibly sensible approach. Why?
The answer, R. Henkin suggests (and I thank my friend, Rabbi Moshe Kurtz, for drawing this idea to my attention), is that even though the Haggadah does stress that we must react strongly to the Rasha – “blunt their teeth” – it still encourages caution.
Because, in using the same answer as the She-Eino Yodea Lishol, it recognizes that not all attacks, criticisms, and frustration come from a place of rebellion, of evil, of hatred – they can very often come from ignorance.
(And this is something that, over the past few months, I think has really confronted us: for every ten anti-Semites is one good-faith political opposer, yet one-hundred naïve and ignorant protesters blindly following the shiniest banner.)
And so, when the Rasha asks their question, we can’t be too hasty to be critical. We can’t instantly write them out of the Jewish people and follow the Torah’s template and declare to everyone else our confidence in the Jewish story and its tradition. Instead, we have to exhibit greater caution and approach them the same way as the She-Eino Yodea Lishol, the ignorant child who knows nothing.
Because it just might be that their confusion and frustration don’t come from a place of hatred but from a place of ignorance – and if we fail in that moment and treat their inquiry, however angry or petty, as wicked then we risk failing that child.
Instead, we must have an open and frank conversation and attempt to still encourage them. Yes, we do so with a slightly different tone. Indeed, the hyperbolic imagery of “blunt their teeth” might be read as encouraging a punch to the face [my legal team would very much like me to stress that you must not do this!] but it could also be read along the lines of telling us to defang the Rasha – our response is neither dismissive nor derisive but an honest attempt to engage.
And I think the power of this idea is anchored by a comment of Rabbi Asher Weiss – the Brooklyn-born Klausenberger ḥasid who lives in Israel and is one of the great poskim of the modern-era – who reads the concluding line of the paragraph discussing the Rasha very differently to how we usually do (Minḥat Asher, Siḥot, Pesaḥ p. 21).
The Haggadah tells us that “had the Rasha been in Egypt then they would not have been saved.” But this, says R. Weiss is not mussar for the Rasha, it’s not something we should shout in their face. Rather, it’s a reminder to the rest of us: had the Rasha lived in Egypt they would not have been redeemed – but they don’t live then, they live now, with us. And we must thus do all we can to help them.