PASSOVER EDITION 5786 SECTION A PAGE 4
On the seder night, we have only two biblical commandments: eating matzah and retelling the story of our redemption from Egypt, sippur yetziat Egypt. Actually, in the nightly evening prayer (ma’ariv), we fulfill an oddly similar commandment: to remember the redemption, zechirat yetziat Egypt. This is an obligation we fulfill every day of the year when we recite the full Shema.
Maimonides counts the mitzvah of retelling the Exodus story on the seder night (sippur), but does not count the mitzvah of remembrance of the Exodus (zechira) every day. Why?
Rabbi Chaim Soloveitchik differentiates between sippur — retelling — and zechira — remembering — in eight ways! We will focus on only one.
A legendary scholar, R. Chaim first turns to a debate in the Talmud —which also appears in the Haggadah — about the nature of zechira, of our remembrance of the Exodus. R’ Elazar teaches that mitzvah applies both day and night. The Sages teach more: the mitzva will always apply, even into the time of the Messiah.
We follow the opinion of R’ Elazar, which implies that this mitzvah will not continue into the time of the Messiah. Now, a principle of Maimonides is that commandments which are not forever do not count toward the 613 commandments. So, since zechira — remembrance — isn’t forever, this is why (R. Chaim explains) Maimonides doesn’t count it.
But then, why is the retelling the story of the Exodus (sippur) counted?
What makes this a forever mitzvah, unlike zechira, which is not?
A key distinction between zechira (remembering) and sippur (retelling) lies within the definition of the words themselves.
To remember simply requires us intellectually to recall how fortunate the Jewish nation was to have been redeemed from Egypt.
In contrast, to retell the story requires us to relive the past, to reexperience the redemption. The Haggadah instructs us to see ourselves as though we personally left Egypt. Maimonides takes this up a notch, enjoining us actively to cause ourselves to experience the seder night as though we were personally being redeemed right then and there.
This is one reason the Haggadah starts with negative, painful aspects of our exile and our bondage in Egypt. The focus is not “happily ever after,” but on the transformation from “once we suffered” to the joyous “then we were redeemed.” And we are to re-experience this transformation personally.
The Talmud teaches that one generally recalls the greatest miracles one experienced. On the national plane, the miracle of the Exodus is unmatched and thus we continue to remember it twice a day.
R. Isaac Hutner suggests that once the Messiah arrives, that will be the ultimate miracle, and will dominate our consciousness. We will no longer have the mitzvah of remembering the Exodus in the Messianic age.
If, however, we truly retell and reexperience our redemption from Egypt on the seder night, it is our greatest national miracle now, since it is taking place at this moment! Accordingly, even in the Messianic age, we will continue to fulfill the mitzvah of retelling the Exodus, giving it the status of an eternal mitzvah.
Retelling the story of the Exodus does not place us in the past. Retelling is not remembrance. Retelling the Exodus makes it our own greatest miracle. It becomes our miracle forever. That is why Maimonides counts as one of the 613 commandments the retelling of the Exodus.
On this point, R. Hutner has a disagreement with the legendary pietist, Chofetz Chaim. In the Haggadah, immediately prior to Hallel, we say, “Therefore, we are obligated to give thanks . . . and we shall exclaim before Him a new song . . .” Chofetz Chaim takes issue with this. Hallel isn’t “a new song,” he says, and he emends the text to say, “And it was said . . . a new song.” The first time it was sung it was new, but now we can only simply recall that first time.
R. Hutner differs. He says that we need not emend the standard text of the Haggadah. This is a new song! Because we are reliving the redemption, our song now is a natural response to the miracles we are reexperiencing right now. It is a new song.
With this approach, we can better understand one final question about Hallel.
Throughout the year, we recite Hallel on the three festivals. Each time we precede Hallel with the standard blessing said prior to performing a mitzvah, “Blessed is He . . . Who commanded us to perform this mitzvah (it is named).” On the seder night, however, and only on seder night, we say Hallel without this prior blessing. Why?
R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik famously explains that if at the seder we re-experience our miraculous redemption, then giving thanks by reciting Hallel on the seder night is not the fulfillment of typical, structured commandment to praise G-d. Rather, it is our spontaneous burst into a song of gratitude! For this, we cannot be commanded. We cannot recite the typical, prior blessing.
Today, with the return of all the hostages and the downgrading of Iran as an impending existential threat (may the regime there be wiped out by the time this is published), we are living through miraculous history.
This year, with the exception of Passover in 1949 and Passover in 1968, the Jewish nation is literally experiencing “from bondage to freedom” in a way not experienced for thousands of years. It is we! We are singing a new song. We are bursting into spontaneous gratitude to G-d for our salvation.
Let us take the charged emotions (anxiety included!) that we are experiencing during this Iran war and channel them this seder night into reliving the Jewish nation’s original salvation of the Exodus, as Maimonides exhorts us.
Beyond that, may we merit continued miracles, the decimation of those who want to wipe us out and, ultimately, the final redemption. Speedily, in our time.
© IJN 2026

