The Madness & Meaning of Dayyenu
(After Pesaḥ my plan is to ideally send something out once a week. And while I have ideas in mind, if there’s a halakhic or philosophical topic you’d love to learn more about, feel free to reply to this email to give me some ideas of what I could address.)
Every Haggadah asks the same question about Dayyenu: what on earth are we singing?!
They never frame it this way – I can only assume it’s the fear of appearing sacrilegious – but the mentality behind the question is always the same. We’ve just made our way through most of Maggid. We’re starving. And now we must sing a song comprising of fourteen repetitive stanzas that, for some bizarre reason, is sung to a tune that includes more repetition! Why?!
To make matters worse, while some of Dayyenu’s stanzas have an obvious relevance to our Exodus – being brought out of Egypt, the Ten Plagues, the splitting of the Yam Suf – others seem to have little relevance to the grandeur of Yetziat Mitzrayim: why must we sing about the wealth we acquired? The manna?
And while I get the broad thematic connection linking everything, the whole song seems very “everything but the kitchen sink.” Whoever authored Dayyenu, it seems, has never met a miracle, however minor, that they didn’t find laudatory.
I was thus enthused to come across a beautiful explanation of Dayyenu by Rabbi Moshe Feinstein, cited in the Haggadah Arzei ha-Levanon. Dayyenu offers so many different types of miracles so that it speaks to each and every person at the Seder.
Not everyone is moved by the same experience, not everyone is inspired by the same event. Thus, not only does Dayyenu provide lots of examples of miracles, but it also emphasizes and celebrates many different forms of miracles. We have the high-ticket Exodus alongside the slow-burning manna from Heaven. We have the vengeful killing of the firstborn and drowning of our enemies together with the peaceful miracle of Shabbat.
(And we celebrate the vast accumulation of wealth because the Haggadah isn’t bothered by uncomfortable and awkward stereotypes.)
But Dayyenu is not simply a text in which we can each find religious inspiration, it’s also a lesson for us at the Seder. Every Seder is a hodgepodge of traditions and people, of experiences and religiosities. Some people really like singing certain tunes, others enjoy discussion. Children might prefer fun and games, while some adults might just want to sit quietly and read the essays in the back of the Haggadah (or is that just me?).
The message of Dayyenu is that, not only are these all valid ways of doing a Seder, but that each and every expression must be celebrated! There is no wrong way to do a Seder (actually, there are a lot of wrong ways to do a Seder, many of which involve bread, but you get the point) – whatever brings a person inspiration is to be lauded.
So, this year at your Seder, enjoy the singing, or enjoy the games. Enjoy the discussion or enjoy sitting quietly and reading. But most of all, celebrate what everyone else is doing – as every form of inspiration and appreciation should be lauded at the Seder.