As Passover approaches, I am reminded of one of the important metaphors in our Hagadah: the story of the Four Sons. Our Hagadah tells us that there are four sons which symbolize the Jewish people: the wise son, the wicked son, the simple son, and the one not yet old enough to inquire. Each son represents a particular attitude, which requires a different telling of the story of the exodus. The wise son asks, "What mean these customs in which we engage, which the Lord commanded us to observe?" The Hagadah explains that he is wise because he includes himself among those obligated to observe the traditions of Passover. The response to his question should include not only the basic story, but a detailed explanation of the laws and customs associated with the Seder.
The second son is the wicked son, and he asks, "What mean these customs in which you engage, which the Lord commanded you to observe?" The Hagadah explains that he is regarded as wicked since he excludes himself from the obligated group, assuming that Jewish duties are meant for others, not for him. The response to the wicked son is to tell him that had he been in Egypt at the time of the exodus, he would not have been saved.
The third son, the simple one, asks, "What is all this?" To him, we should respond that the Lord did marvelous deeds for us, and therefore it is important for us to remember and to observe. And finally, the youngest son, not yet old enough to inquire, is to be told the story of Passover. The Hagadah concludes by explaining that it is incumbent upon us to emulate the wise son, to take on the burdens of our faith, to share in the Jewish obligations. We must not be like the wicked son, merely asking others why they do what they do, for that will not benefit our people and better humankind.
However, a few years ago, my sister Judi became rather troubled by this traditional interpretation. She wondered what had the wicked son done to rate such a poor reputation? After all, there isn't too much difference between the questions of the wise son and the wicked son. They both ask what the customs mean. I told her that they are very different. The wise son includes himself whereas the wicked son does not.
Judi said to me, "You seem to be drawing a very fine line between the righteous and the wicked. The wicked son is prodding by his question. He is challenging the Jewish people to think about why they are doing what they are doing. I've had teachers who have asked me such difficult questions and their forcing me to examine my actions and values has been a most enlightening experience, changing my life in some cases. This is certainly not wicked. It seems to me that who you call the wicked son is in reality the wise son; for he forces us, as Jews, to confront our values and to grow via self-examination."
I said, "But Judaism is not about self-examination. We cannot be constantly questioning ourselves."
Judi said, "On the contrary, I believe we must always be questioning ourselves. If not, how do we know that what we do has any value? Judaism is not a set belief. Deuteronomy--period! Our religion has constantly been growing and changing over 4000 years. The Judaism of today is not the Judaism of Moses. If it were, it would only survive in libraries, in stone tablets. Instead, we have evolved with the times, blossomed, and become a different and more modern religion. We are Reform Jews living in the modern world, trying to make sense out of the mess around us."
Then she went on to point out that there was a slightly different translation of the wicked son's question which several rabbis quote. According to the other translation, wicked son asks "What does this service mean to you?" Judi said, "Each person must answer this question differently him or herself. Every participant at the Seder reacts differently, is moved by different passages, interprets the rituals individually."
I was almost shocked when she implied that it was a question of individual interpretation, but she went on to say, "Not only that, but it's also a question which can be answered differently each year. For example, for many years, we've had the 'matzah of hope' ceremony in our Seder, for the Soviet, Ethiopian, and Yemenite Jews. But these last several years we don't because the world situation has changed. In our own time, we've seen modern miracles, and our Seder changes to reflect that."
Catching on, I butted in, "You mean like adding the fifth cup of wine in gratitude for the creation of the State of Israel?"
"Exactly!" she said. "But even more importantly, this question of what does this Seder mean to you is characteristic of Reform Judaism. In fact, it is the very essence of our being. Reform Judaism seeks out the meanings behind the rituals and it is really the meanings which are most important. A ritual, without understanding, is empty--a useless gesture. Nothing more than a habit, like brushing your teeth every morning. Yes there is a purpose, but no meaning behind it. Don't you realize that understanding the ritual is more important than performing it?"
I said, "Understanding without ritual is merely philosophy; not Judaism. Judaism is about actions and deeds, not thoughts."
Judi countered, "Ahh, but the very first of the Ten Commandments is 'I am the Lord thy God.' The primary action of Judaism is believing in God."
I argued, "But you do not have to believe in God to be Jewish."
When Judi wondered aloud, "Are the ones who don't believe in God the wicked sons?" I told her I thought that the wicked son was about questioning authority. Then she said, "That's just what agnostics do. The wicked son questions beliefs. And I believe that to have a strong belief, you must constantly be questioning it, to keep it strong."
I thought Judi had made some excellent points, and she certainly gave me something to think about.