1. In the year 5647 (1887),1 R. Shneur Zalman [Slonim]2 visited Lubavitch from Yafo. When in the course of the Seder we arrived at Yachatz, [the stage at which the middle matzah is broken,] he told me – in the Holy Tongue – that the Afikoman [which is the bigger “half”] should be placed between pillows.3
Hearing this, my father commented: “The plural word כַּרִים (‘pillows’) has twice the numerical value of כַּר (220) in the singular, to a total of 440, that is, ת"מ. If to that we add 1, which is represented by matzah, the result is אֱמֶת.” [The Rebbe Rayatz then commented on the fact that whatever his father heard, he always managed to connect it to avodah.]
2. [When placing the three matzos on top of each other on the Seder table,] the custom in our circles is to place them in the following order: first the one representing the Yisrael, then the levi, and finally the kohen, whereas the more widespread custom (including the practice of Polish chassidim) is the reverse.
The initials of the three words that define the latter sequence – כֹּהֵן, לֵוִי, יִשְׂרָאֵל – produce the word כֶּלִי, “a vessel.” This is significant, because (to use a physical metaphor) these matzos serve as a “vessel” to contain the oros, the “lights” represented by the six items that are placed on the matzos. (Hence our custom to choose concave matzos for this purpose, because vessels, except for a knife and the like, are typically concave.)
The initials of the three words that define our customary sequence – יִשְׂרָאֵל, לֵוִי, כֹּהֵן – produce the word יֵלֵךְ, “he shall proceed.” As my father pointed out, this suggests that the avodah of the person involved is already making progress.
3. יַחַץ / Yachatz.
[At this point the Rebbe Rayatz said:] I once observed that my father broke the Afikoman into five pieces. At first I thought that it simply happened that way, until when I once saw that the matzah had broken into six pieces and my father put one piece aside, I asked him for the reason.
My father answered, “Children who want to know everything grow old very fast…”4
The next day, as we were walking together, my father gathered from the sigh that escaped my lips that I was disappointed at not having been given a reason for the above custom, so he said:
“The middle matzah corresponds to Yitzchak, which is why the word יַחַץ shares its letters with the name יִצְחָק, and the Afikoman corresponds to Avraham.” [The Rebbe Rashab went on to explain in detail how the act of Yachatz symbolizes the Kabbalistic dynamic whereby Chessed, the characteristic attribute of Avraham, “sweetens” (i.e., modifies) thefive kinds of Gevurah, which is the characteristic attribute of Yitzchak.]
4. הֵא לַחְמָא עַנְיָא / Hei lachma anya.
My father usually pronounced the first word as הֵא, [because of its Kabbalistic parallel with that word in the context of Yosef], though sometimes he pronounced it הָא, [for a different Kabbalistic reason].
5. כַּאן הַבֵּן שׁוֹאֵל מַה נִשְׁתַּנָּה / Kahn haben shoel: Mah nishtanah.
[Noting that this phrase includes both the word בֵּן and the word מַה, the whole of this section elaborates on a classic Kabbalistic theme that relates to the mystical interaction between two of the permutations of the Divine Name which include those four letters – the Name מַ"ה and the Name בַּ"ן.]
6. הַבֵּן שׁוֹאֵל מַה נִשְׁתַּנָּה/ Haben shoel: Mah nishtanah.
Even a person whose father is (G‑d forbid) no longer alive should introduce the Four Questions by saying: Tatte, ich vel ba dir fregn fir kashes – “Father, I’m going to ask you four questions.”5
In the early days my father used to say this audibly, and later too he whispered something which I assume was the above.
In similar vein: In the Grace after Meals, even a person who has neither father nor mother should say, “May the Merciful One bless my father-and-mentor… and my mother-and-mentor…,” because on a spiritual plane, this request is still meaningful.6 Also, as is well known, as my father once stood facing the table at which the Rebbe Maharash used to receive chassidim at yechidus, he leaned forward on his hands, just as chassidim stand at yechidus during a Rebbe’s physical life.
7. אָנוּ אוֹכְלִים חָמֵץ אוֹ מַצָּה / We eat chametz or matzah.
Since bread (unlike the humble matzah) is inflated, chametz in spiritual terms is a familiar metaphor for yeshus, a bloated ego. On this my father commented that this metaphor is not speaking of outright self-importance and arrogance. After all, to borrow the rhetorical question of the Gemara, “Are we speaking of fools?!”7 Rather, supposing that someone is thoroughly at home in the entire Talmud and in the writings of the AriZal, and just once or twice a year he takes the liberty of blowing himself up somewhat, that constitutes chametz. Why? Throughout the year he is in the midst of his labors of beirur, self-refinement, and hence he still comprises either chametz or matzah. On Pesach, however, he has completed his labors of beirur – and that is why “this night [he] is only matzah.”
8. The more one speaks about the Exodus from Egypt, the more is he to be praised / וְכָל הַמַּרְבֶּה לְסַפֵּר בִּיְצִיאַת מִצְרַיִם הֲרֵי זֶה מְשׁוּבָּח.
[According to the plain meaning of the above sentence, the word זֶה (zeh) simply refers to “this person,” who speaks at length about the Exodus. The present derush, however, understands zeh as a mystical code-word that indicates the soul’s capacity to perceive Divine revelation directly, as in the phrase, Hinei Elokeinu zeh – “Behold, this is our G‑d.”8 Accordingly, the Rebbe here teaches as follows:]
Every soul contains this element of Zeh (“This is…). Thus, the verse that says, Zeh hadavar asher tzivah HaShem (“This is what G‑d has commanded”9 ) is saying: What G‑d is commanding us to do is to take the zeh within ourselves – to take our soul’s capacity to perceive Elokus directly – and to invest it in our practical avodah.10
From a different perspective, the Rebbe then added: The praiseworthy people who speak at length about the Exodus from Egypt include those who talk about even the humblest details, such as what clothes the Children of Israel wore at the time. [The words used were: “what trousers they wore.”]
9. מַעֲשֶׂה בְּרַבִּי אֱלִיעֶזֶר כו' וְהָיוּ מְסַפְּרִים בִּיְצִיאַת מִצְרַיִם כָּל אוֹתוֹ הַלַּיְלָה, עַד שֶׁבָּאוּ תַּלְמִידֵיהֶם / R. Eliezer [and his fellow Sages sat together once at a Seder in Bnei Brak] and spoke about the Exodus from Egypt throughout that night, until their disciples came [and told them that the time had arrived for the morning’s Reading of Shema].
By knowing the disciples one can know about the avodah of the Sages. This we see in the mishnah in Avos 5:19 which, [instead of pointing out the differences between Avraham and Bil’am,] asks: “What is the difference between the disciples of Avraham Avinu and the disciples of the wicked Bil’am?”
The verb used above for “spoke” is mesaprim (מְסַפְּרִים), whose root also appears in the phrase sefirus ubehirus (וּבְהִירוּת סְפִירוּת), [as in the word סַפִּיר / sapphire,] and means “luminous translucence.”11 The above Sages were discussing the Exodus, which was a supernatural occurrence, and their sipur (סִפּוּר) – which means “their narration” but also hints at “their luminosity” – was a call to rise beyond the bounds of nature. This was what prompted their disciples to tell them that the time had arrived for the morning’s Reading of Shema. For the evening’s Reading of Shema relates to Yichuda Ila’ah,12 and that is why it is followed by the [lesser] avodah of sleep, whereas the morning’s Reading of Shema relates to Yichuda Tata’ah,13 and that is why it is followed by the [higher] avodah of Shemoneh Esreh.
10. / אַרְבָּעָה בָּנִיםThe Four Sons.
[The Rebbe here summarized a thought of the Rebbe Rashab, who once pointed out that the word echad (אֶחָד), which is paired in the Haggadah with each of the Four Sons, signifies their distinct individual conceptions of Elokus.] In conclusion, the Rebbe Rashab singled out for praise the son who does not know how to ask a question, and gave the following explanation:
When souls in general are still Above, their perception of Elokus is plain and self-understood, but when they come down to This World, Elokus appears to them as something novel that arouses questions. Not so the soul of the son who does not know how to ask a question. Even after this soul comes down to This World, that son’s perception of Elokus remains plain and self-understood,14 untrammeled by questions. And it is regarding that son that the Haggadah advises the father: אַתְּ פְּתַח לוֹ – “You must begin for him.”
11. חָכָם מַה הוּא אוֹמֵר / What does the wise son say?
[The Rebbe asked:] After the wise son has asked in the way that a wise son ought to ask, why is he given an answer about a chukah, a non-rational statute?
[And the Rebbe answered his own question:] That is intentionally so. The wise son ought to be taught something that is specifically beyond mortal reason.
