“Seder”, as everyone knows, means “order” - what a strange name for a
feast! Why is this meal different from all other meals, in that it is called
an “order”?
Maimonides introduces the laws of the Seder as follows – “The order of
performing these [above-mentioned] Mitzvot on the night of the fifteenth of
Nissan”.
In other words, Seder refers to a particular order in which we perform a
series of independent Mitzvot. Why, indeed, are these Mitzvot placed in any
order?
Some of us may have fond memories of the long-running TV show “This is your
life”. The components include a surprised “target” – whose life will be
highlighted on the show- and significant memories and people from his or her
past.
The order in which these memories is presented is important, because the
success of the programme was dependent as much on sequence as on content.
Each memory or personality heightens the excitement – until the final guest
brought out, usually a long lost friend or relative, brings the excitement
of the evening to a climax.
The Seder is no different, the order is ingeniously devised to provide us
with a pageant of increasingly inspirational experiences and events. The
experential matrix of the Seder utilises all its various Mitzvot to build an
experience which is greater than the sum of its parts.
Is “telling the story” therefore the purpose of the exercise, or merely a
means to a greater end? The Haggadah itself answers the question by stating
“in every generation”, a person is obligated to view himself as if he came
out of Egypt”. Telling the story therefore is a means towards identifying
with the story. How is this accomplished?
When we examine the various laws and customs of the Seder, we find
associations with different times in our history – vastly different
circumstances. The Seder evening is indeed a fantasy evening with a very
real “time-warp” component to it.
We imagine ourselves as slaves in Egypt, as refugees in the desert, as noble
free men in Jerusalem with the Temple still standing, as nobles reclining at
a feast in the manner of the Roman oppressors: and there are even glimpses
into a sneak preview of Jewish history which has not yet been realised.
At the Seder therefore, we identify with, and try to re-experience, the
Exodus from Egypt. Beyond that, we walk a mile in the shoes of every Jew who
ever lived, every High Priest who entered the Holy of Holies on Yom Kippur,
every victim of persecution who died with Sh’ma Yisrael on faithful lips,
every hearty pioneer who risked life and limb to drain swamps in order to
reclaim more of the Land of Israel for its sons and daughters.
The term “Seder” could not be more aptly chosen. It describes an
experiential evening, reliving the entire story of the Exodus as a historic
metaphor for Jewish existence, our relationship with G-d, with each other,
with other nations – our development of national and personal character, all
rooted in this event which took place 3,300 years ago – but which continues
to take place in every generation.
