There is no perfect Haggadah

 

Each Jew experiences the movement to redemption in a different way, and the best versions of the classic text force us to read deeply and connect an ancient message to life today


Rabbi Adam Cutler
Beth Tzedec Congregation, Toronto

Rabbi Adam Scheier
Congregation Shaar Hashomayim, Montreal


Rabbi Cutler: As an undergraduate at the University of Toronto, one week prior to Pesach I would bring the largest backpack I owned to Robarts Library where I would check out dozens of Haggadot to be used at my family’s seders. Later, as a student at the Jewish Theological Seminary, I would do the same.

The Haggadah is almost certainly the Jewish book with the highest number of editions and commentaries. History provides beautiful illuminated Haggadot, feminist Haggadot and vegetarian Haggadot among many others, all focusing in their own way on the theme of redemption. 

This year, we are blessed with the new Canadian Haggadah Canadienne, of which you are an author. Amid the crowded marketplace of Haggadot, why did you feel the need to produce another? What themes in the Haggadah particularly resonate with you? Do you ever notice a tension between one Haggadah and the next?

Rabbi Scheier: Like you, I love Haggadot. But at no point have I said, “Ah, I found the Haggadah that’s perfect for me!” I believe that’s because there is no Haggadah that is a perfect fit for everyone. Rather, Passover is the ultimate personalized experience. The objective is for each Jew to feel intimately connected with the experience of slavery and freedom. 

In editing the Canadian Haggadah Canadienne, I did not endeavour to produce the ultimate Haggadah. Rather, I sought to connect with a part of me that I hadn’t yet found in any other Haggadah: the experience of living in Canada and possessing a strong Canadian identity. 

Rabbi Cutler: I opened my email this morning to discover a notice that Sefaria, a free online portal that bills itself as “a living library of Jewish texts,” has just published a Haggadah complete with newly translated classical commentaries. It seems that the Haggadah itself is finding freedom from the printed page and moving into an interconnected space that will allow it to grow in perpetuity.

As you have alluded, there can never be a perfect Haggadah, as each of us experiences the movement to redemption in a different way. Of course, I do have my favourites, which tend toward the academic. I love reading how what we now view as the standard text developed over time and in different places. 

And I’m equally excited when a comment in a Haggadah that I tend not to use on seder night excites someone else around the table. Ultimately, a great Haggadah is one that forces the reader to stop “davening” the Haggadah, to read it deeply, to engage with the words and to connect it to life today.

Rabbi Scheier: For me, the highlight of publishing a Haggadah has been seeing how it has been received and interpreted. I was so moved by how many who read it have found a piece of their own personal or family experience in the book. I hope that many others will continue to have this reaction. 

Ultimately, our hope for the Haggadah is that it will engage people in the Jewish ritual of the Passover seder. Perhaps, by feeling that there is a Haggadah that speaks to a certain part of their identity and needs, some in our Canadian Jewish community might feel more connected to their tradition.

I have always seen the Passover seder as an opportunity for engagement. As a child, I recall it as the most engaged experience with Jewish ritual. I remember the thrill of searching for the afikoman, the excitement of being a young child allowed to stay up late, at the adults’ table. I can still feel the bated-breath anticipation that all of the children had as we waited for the pinnacle of our seder experience: the friendly competition we held at the end, in which each child competed with my grandfather (and each other) in who could hold the final note of Chad Gadya the longest (the winner won bragging rights until next year’s seder).

Writing the Canadian Haggadah Canadienne was a years-long process of challenges, successes and discovery. Ultimately, I think the project’s success will be measured by its ability to inspire the conversations that, like those I recall around my grandparents’ table, stay with the seder participants long after the afikoman is consumed.