The text of the Haggadah that we read at the seder is ancient, dating back millennia, and has been carefully preserved as an integral, cherished and sacred component of our annual celebration of Pesach.
But while the entire text should be carefully and attentively recited, and is worthy of deep study and analysis, there is one segment whose critical importance is emphasized by the Haggadah itself.
Toward the end of the maggid section, we read the teaching of Rabban Gamliel of the three things which must be mentioned at the seder, or else one fails to satisfy his obligation on this special night. As a matter of practical Halacha, anyone who, for whatever reason, had left the seder table must return for the reading of this section. In many homes, the devoted women spend time in the kitchen tending to the preparations for the meal which is served after the reading of maggid. They must ensure to come back for the section that begins “Rabban Gamliel omer…” so they can fulfill their obligation of the seder, which is binding upon women no less than men.
The three things which Rabban Gamliel tells us we must discuss at the seder are pesach – the special sacrifice which each Jew was to bring on the afternoon of Erev Pesach in the Bet Ha’mikdash; matzah – the special unleavened bread which we eat on Pesach; and marror – the “bitter herbs” which we are required to eat at the seder. Rabban Gamliel teaches that part of our obligation at the seder is to speak about the meaning of each of these mitzvot:
- The pesach sacrifice commemorated Gd’s “passing over” (“pasach”) the homes of Beneh Yisrael on the night of the Exodus, shielding them from the plague of the firstborn which He brought upon the Egyptians.
- The matzah reminds us of how Beneh Yisrael were rushed out of Egypt, before their dough had an opportunity to rise, such that they ended up baking flat matzah instead of ordinary bread.
- The marror symbolizes the pain and suffering of slavery, which the Torah describes as “bitterness” (“Vayemareru et hayehem ba’avodah kashah” – Shemot 1:14).
All this is fairly straightforward, and well-known to many of us. There is, however, a glaring problem with Rabban Gamliel’s presentation that deserves our attention – the sequence. Surprisingly, Rabban Gamliel speaks of the symbol of slavery only after he mentions the symbols of the Exodus. The pesach and matzah commemorate aspects of our ancestors’ experience at the time of the Exodus, whereas the marror represents the “bitterness” they endured during the 210 years prior to that night. Should we not have expected Rabban Gamliel to mention the marror first, before the pesach and matzah? Why did he reverse the order?
Grasping the Full Extent of the Bitterness
Several explanations have been offered for this sequence of presentation. One answer is that the “bitterness” is often fully appreciated only after it has ended. People who endure a certain form of hardship for an extended period grow accustomed to it, to one extent or another, and only when they are relieved of this distress do they begin to grasp just how difficult it was. Many of us have probably had the experience of putting on a new pair of eyeglasses and realizing only then how poorly we saw before then. Many times, we recognize the gravity of a situation only after it has passed.
This perhaps explains an enigmatic kabbalistic teaching associating the marror obligation with a story told in the Book of Beresheet. Describing Yosef’s brothers leaving Egypt, the Torah writes, “Haboker or, veha’anashim shulehu” (“The morning light appeared, and the men were sent off” – Beresheet 44:3). The kabbalists observe the final letters of these four words (resh, resh, mem and vav) are the same letters that spell the word “marror.” Somehow, the image of the brothers’ departure at dawn is connected with marror.
The explanation might be that only when the light emerges do we recognize the dreariness of darkness. The full extent of the “marror,” of the bitterness and darkness of exile, can be appreciated only in the “morning,” when the light of redemption shines.
Accordingly, Rabban Gamliel lists marror after the matzah and marror – because only after Beneh Yisrael left Egypt did they recognize the gravity of the “bitterness” they had endured.
Sweetening the Marror
A second answer to this question goes to the heart of the meaning of Pesach, and the timeless lesson of faith that it teaches us.
As briefly noted earlier, our ancestors spent a total of 210 years in Egypt – from the time that Yaakov and his family moved there to escape the devastating famine in Canaan, until the night of the Exodus. This is alluded to in Yaakov’s formulation when instructing his sons to travel to Egypt to purchase grain: “Redu shamah” (literally, “Go down there” to Egypt – Beresheet 42:2), as the word “redu” in gematria equals 210. However, when Gd informed Avraham that his descendants would experience a period of harsh exile, He mentioned a 400-year period of enslavement (Beresheet 15:13). How did a 400-year sentence become a 210-year sentence?
One of the common answers given is that the bondage was so harsh, and so brutal, that Beneh Yisrael suffered in 210 years the amount of suffering that they were to have endured in 400 years. The labor was so intense, and so backbreaking, that they completed 400 years’ worth of hardship in just 210 years. This is comparable to a 20-year mortgage which a homeowner manages to pay up in just ten years by making significantly higher monthly payments than he was supposed to. Beneh Yisrael “paid” 400 years of slavery in 210 years because they suffered so terribly during those years.
The Arizal taught that this “condensing” of the Egyptian exile was necessary for Beneh Yisrael’s survival. Ancient Egypt was a decadent pagan culture, characterized by idol worship and immorality, and Beneh Yisrael were submerged in this society. Kabbalistic tradition describes how our ancestors plummeted to the “49th level of impurity” – just one step before the 50th, which would have marked the point of no return. Had Beneh Yisrael remained even a moment longer in Egypt, they would have fallen lower, to the 50th level, from which they could never have recovered. To prevent this from happening, Gd “expedited” the exile, intensifying the people’s workload so they could complete 400 years’ worth of slavery before descending to the 50th level.
Ironically, then, it emerges that the “bitterness” of exile is what saved Beneh Yisrael. At the time, of course, they could not understand this. But the truth is that the uniquely harsh conditions they endured guaranteed their survival.
This helps explain a number of otherwise perplexing aspects of the marror. First, it perhaps sheds light on why we customarily fulfill this mitzvah by eating Romaine lettuce. The Mishna in Masechet Pesahim (39a) lists several vegetables which one may use as marror, the first of which is hazeret. The Gemara comments the hazeret is the preferred vegetable to use for this purpose, and it identifies hazeret as hasa – lettuce. This word, the Gemara explains, alludes to the fact that “has Rahamana ilavon” – Gd had compassion on Beneh Yisrael.
The Gemara’s discussion seems very difficult to understand. Why would we choose for marror a vegetable that alludes to Gd’s mercy and compassion? Of course Gd has compassion – but the marror symbolizes precisely the opposite of compassion, the suffering inflicted upon our ancestors in Egypt. Why should we associate specifically the word “hasa” with marror?
In light of what we have seen, the answer becomes clear. The bitterness of exile was indeed a form of compassion, in that it allowed Beneh Yisrael to survive. The marror was bitter – but its bitterness prevented our nation from disappearing in the dustbin of history.
Likewise, we can now understand the custom to dip the marror in the sweet haroset. We might have wondered, if the objective of marror is to signify bitterness, then why would we dilute its bitter taste with haroset? The answer is that the Egyptian bondage was bittersweet. It was bitter – but the bitterness itself facilitated the ultimate salvation and guaranteed our survival.
Returning to Rabban Gamliel, marror is listed at the end because it must be revisited after the pesach and matzah, after the salvation. Before then, there was nothing “sweet” at all about the bondage. The people suffered terribly, in ways we could never imagine. But in hindsight, we can discern the “sweetness” of the bitter exile, and appreciate how it was necessary for our survival.
Living With Faith
Pesach is often seen as the holiday of emunah (faith), reminding us of Gd’s ultimate control of the world and His boundless love for His cherished nation. The “bittersweet” quality of the marror teaches us one of the fundamental tenets of emunah – that life’s challenges and hardships are, in ways we cannot understand, to our ultimate benefit. It might take years to see the “sweetness,” and in some instances, we might never see the “sweetness.” But we must live with the belief that even the “bitter” experiences are “sweet” and are part of Gd’s plan for us.
Countless stories are told of singles who experienced anguish after a rejection, which then led to a much better match that became a beautiful marriage. Of business deals that didn’t go through, as a result of which a far better deal was struck with someone else. Of jobs that were lost, leading to much better jobs. Of children’s struggles that built them and prepared them for outstanding success.
As mentioned, we do not always see the “sweetness.” But the marror teaches us to believe it is there, to trust that everything Hashem does is for our ultimate benefit. And when we live with this faith, then our lives become so much “sweeter,” even as we confront difficult challenges.