The word Afikomen is derived from the Greek word meaning dessert. The reason for this is because the Afikomen represents the actual Pascal lamb, which was eaten after the main meal on a full stomach; dessert. We begin our answer to the wise son with dessert, with something sweet to entice him to continue studying and asking questions. The Haggadah is teaching us that the way to teach someone about Judaism is by showing them its sweetness and beauty. There will be plenty of time later to teach the more difficult laws and regulations. Starting off with those will discourage the seeker and possibly chase him away. Only with sweetness can we successfully satisfy the hunger of those searching for their heritage, and increase their appetite for more Torah.

As we conduct our own seders and present our beautiful heritage to our children and guests, let’s make sure that we highlight the sweetness and joy of the holiday (and Torah) instead of focusing on the minor details that can often appear as mundane and uninspiring.

We say Chag Kasher V’Sameach. Let’s be sure that we are as diligent and careful with the Simcha, as we are with the Kashrut.

Chag Kasher V’Sameach!

The term “Afikoman” is derived from the Greek work meaning dessert. How do we capture the interest of a Jew who is exploring Judaism and searching for Jewish knowledge? The Haggadah teaches us to begin with the sweet stuff, dessert — the Afikoman. Expose him to the beauty of Torah, the love and kindness that it teaches. Only after his appetite is whetted by the sweetness should you begin teaching him the more difficult laws and prohibitions.

The obvious question regarding “Dayenu” is, would it really have been enough? Would it have been enough if God took us out of Egypt but did not split the sea or if God had split the sea but had not brought us to Mt. Sinai or given us the Torah etc.? For example, if you gave me a brand new car but didn’t give me the keys, would that be enough? Of course not! Then what does this song really mean?

The Dayenu is a love song written by the Jewish people to God, their beloved. In fact, most of the psalms and prayers that we recite can be viewed as love songs and poems to a beloved. This is also why it is the custom of many to recite the Song of Songs, the ultimate love song between God and the Jewish People, after the Seder.

When a person is in love with someone, every moment spent with their beloved is precious to them. Of course they would rather have that moment last a lifetime, yet they are willing to accept even just a moment to be with them. Every moment with them is so precious that it stands alone in importance regardless of what the next moment might bring.

The Jewish People are so in love with God that every moment in His presence is precious to them. Although we hope and yearn for the full redemption we still cherish and treasure every step towards that goal. Although we continue to strive for more we rejoice in every moment of love that God grants us.
This is the true meaning of Dayenu.

With this new understanding of Dayenu we can reach a more meaningful understanding of the entire Seder and possibly the entire Torah. If our relationship with God is comparable to a relationship between lovers then every mitzvah that we perform is really an act of love. All love relationships have low points, when we feel distant from, or apathetic towards, our lover, but true love overcomes these downswings and remains as strong as ever. So too does our relationship with God remain forever strong even if we sometimes feel distant and “unloved”.

Hoping to avoid the inevitable confrontation, I was anxious to move ahead and continue my own parking search, when I spotted a car leaving up ahead, just in front of the car that had been waiting to reverse into the original spot. I was certain that the driver who had just lost the battle for his spot would grab the newly opened one. Instead, to my amazement (and delight), the driver ignored the open spot and reversed to confront his nemesis. I happily drove past the confrontation and into waiting parking spot, stunned at the decision of the driver to give up a readily available spot in favor of a confrontation. That’s when I realized that the driver had probably not even seen the empty spot. He was literally blinding by his anger. All he could see was someone who had wronged him, and the opportunity for vengeance.

How often do we miss seeing good things because we are preoccupied with thoughts of anger and revenge? How many opportunities do we pass up because we’re too busy feeling angry and hurt about how we feel someone has treated us, instead of learning from our mistakes and moving forward with our lives?

The Sages of the Talmud compare anger to idolatry. Anger makes us ignore God, the beauty of creation, and everything that is good and loving, and instead makes us slaves to our own false gods: ego and pride.

The month of Nisan is a time of freedom and redemption. Pesach is when we destroy our “leavened” (chametz), which represents our ego and pride, and trade it for modesty and moderation, represented by Matzah. Let’s harness the special energy of this month to free ourselves from the anger that blinds us and prevents us from fully enjoying life and fulfilling our true potential.

Our sages teach that Chametz represents haughtiness and ego (Guy-vah). On Pesach we destroy our personal “chametz”, for it can stand in the way of our complete redemption and true freedom.

Chametz cannot come into existence while the dough is being worked. The way to make sure that our egos don’t get the best of us is to constantly work on ourselves. Someone who recognizes their shortcomings and strives to overcome them and improve themselves will never become a slave to haughtiness and ego.

As we prepare for Pesach, we should spend at least as much time and energy working on ourselves, as we do on working on our kitchens.