The Simple Question

I’m thinking about Passover 

And the Haggadah / 

the book we’ll read together in just a few nights for seder 

There is this part about the four children

The four children who each bring a question

Remember? they ask about Passover, why we do it, what the rules are

Wise one

One is wicked

One simple

And there’s even one who does not know how to ask 

And many people have taught about these children over the years

Many things we could say, where they come from, why the rabbis created them

We could talk about how we are each all four, 

or how the idea of creating a whole characterization of your child based on one question they ask — maybe not optimal parenting 

But as I thought about us this shabbat 

As I thought this week together with my chevruta / friend R. Dorothy Richman 

As I thought about us each in our homes

Far apart 

Perhaps worried about people we love 

Perhaps worried for strangers trying to breathe in distant places 

Perhaps worried for our own health 

As I thought about us

As we try to take in the enormity of what it means to stop so much 

To not be together in so many ways

I thought about us 

As we consider our economy and our jobs

As we think about our leaders and consider the responsibility that comes with leadership

The power we (wittingly or unwittingly) give to our leaders 

As I thought about us

While we reconsider our ideas of what it means to protect and to be protected 

As we reconsider our basic ideas of borders and boundaries 

As I thought about us 

this year

I realized we can only be the tam / the simple child 

The child that asks, “Mah zot?”/ “What is this?”

B/c In this moment, we literally cannot be anything like the wicked child who says she is different from everyone else and says the whole plague and freedom story has nothing to do with her life 

It is impossible 

Because, whether we like it or not, we are each implicated and intertwined 

No, it is not that we think we are apart from the world (even in our bunkers) 

Never have we felt so close to the world 

To our ultra-orthodox brothers and sisters who are getting sick in increasing numbers

Never have we felt so close to the world

To people in Italy, Iran 

Never have we looked at a global map with such frequency and such concern in order to see which trajectories, which countries, which areas, 

To see where the virus is growing and where it has been subdued 

No, this year we are not the wicked child, for we literally cannot, even for a moment, pretend this has nothing to do with us 

Nor are we, I am sorry to say, like the wise child who can make intricate designs of ideas and the rituals and the moment, 

who opens the doors of her heart and mind based on the wide variety of experiences in front of her

Most of us, we are not flourishing and growing and developing ideas, expanding ourselves intellectually 

Or if you are one of the ones writing your grand opus in this time — please identify yourself to me after shabbat because I want to study your habits and what you eat —

No, unless checking social media or repeatedly watching that video of the Israeli mom who hates homeschooling counts as a stand in for intellectual prowess 

We are not feeling particularly wise 

Not in the mood for intellectual gymnastics 

Not in the mood for hot takes of  the rise of illness or the hidden meaning of Corona

And we’re not even like the one she’einu yode-a lishol 

the one who does not know how to ask, 

who does not give himself permission to ask, 

We know are allowed to ask

So far, we still live in a democracy and we are free to ask 

And it is not even that we do not know how to ask 

We have been asking all our lives 

And it is not that we don’t have the words

We’re Jewish, we have words

And it is not that we don’t want to ask, we have lots and lots of questions now, all crowding towards the front of our minds 

Questions for our president

For our leaders

For ourselves 

For each other

Questions that arise every time we go outside

Questions that arise for each person we see who is still working and for each one safe in her house 

No, we have lots of questions and we know how to ask 

It is just that in a moment when we feel the whole world is changing

We know from our tradition of asking questions, many questions 

We know there is a danger of asking a question that is too small, 

A question that feels immediate but is short-sighted

More precisely, there is a possibility of asking a question built on a foundation that no longer exists

See in Torah, when Moses and God say that the the children will ask their questions

It is all described in the future tense, at a future seder table 

Torah is clear, the questions being described DON’T happen in the moment of leaving Egypt 

They are described as something that will happen later, machar, tomorrow or sometime in the future

Machar, tomorrow, later — not during the actual leaving

Machar, when there will be children, thank god, new generations, and relative safety and so we can hear all the great questions and turn them over in our minds, have discussion 

In the future

And maybe this is why— Rashi is not so fond of the simple child and the simple question 

Because “Mah zot?” / “What is this?” (if we imagine asking this question in a safe time)

The question just skims the surface, it lacks depth. 

And in good peaceful times, I understand !

It sure doesn’t give the one who answers a lot to work with !

The question is so broad as to make us wonder if the child really wants an answer or is just needs a turn to talk. 

But as we consider this moment 

Or perhaps in other moments in our history 

Where a seder did not have the luxury of being a strictly intellectual exercise

Times when our wellbeing was in question 

When our community was in jeopardy 

When our future was uncertain  

As we consider moments like the one we are living through now

“Mah zot?”  / “What is this?”

seems to be not only the right question, it is the only question.

Because “Mah zot / “What is this?” 

is a question for people who are waiting

Who recognize the world is changing, has changed 

Who realize we can’t know yet what this time means and what it will mean 

Who understand that those who try to force a grand narrative now, whether one intoxicated with optimism or laced with despair, will be misled and are misleading 

Because too much is changing while we are changing with it

What does the new world look like? 

We won’t really know until we get there. 

It says in torah in one of my favorite verses that when we left Egypt, sure we took the matzah out, but it also says, 

V’gam tzeidah lo asu lahem / also, they did not take any provisions for themselves 

In other words, when we were leaving Egypt in a rush, it says we did not take any provisions for ourselves 

I had always read this in the classic way, that we had so much faith we trusted God would give us whatever we needed to help us 

But now, I understand 

We didn’t take provisions because we didn’t know what to take. 

What do you take for leaving Egypt? 

What do you take to a new and undefined place? 

What do you bring when you don’t even know how long it will take to get there or which direction to go or if you or your loved ones are going to make it? 

We didn’t take provisions because we did not know what to take 

See, our not taking anything but going anyway, counter-intuitively, in that moment, in this kind of moment, is the only appropriate act

Just like the barely there question of the simple child 

A humble question: “Mah zot?” / “What is this?” 

(Not to mention the few things we did take from the old world, from Egypt, the gold we stole from our task masters, only caused us great problems in the new places. 

So too, now, we mustn’t feel inadequate if we don’t have all the right questions, 

B/c our simple, open question can still signal our presence and our humility, and our willingness to learn how to be.)

And it turns out, more than any year I can remember, we need just the answer that is given to the simple child in the Haggadah

Because now I understand that the question of the simple child (“Mah zot?” / “What is this?”) is also the question of the one who is afraid.

And the answer given, is the answer not only for that simple child but for us all this year:

“B’chozek yad hotzi-anu adonai mimitzrayim mibeit avadim” /

“It was with a mighty hand that God took us out of the narrow place, out of the house of slavery”

This answer is, in the most stark terms, what we need to hear and say to one another now:

Not to be afraid 

That God’s mighty hand exists, 

Maybe in the hands of the people who volunteer or sell food 

Maybe in the hands of the doctors on the front lines

Maybe in the hands of the many leaders who risked great personal loss to protect us, the people 

Or maybe God’s hand is in the sacrifices of the many of us this shabbat who have given up a great many things 

Celebrations and gatherings and b’nah mitzvah and weddings and proms and even being at funerals of loved ones so more people could live, so fewer people would suffer 

Maybe God’s mighty hands live in those of us who have given up so many things for the greater whole, a capability we did not know we even had before this time 

Yes, let us remind one another 

God’s mighty hands and outstretched arms exist 

And together we will leave the narrow places.