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March 22, 2002/Nisan 9, 5762, Vol. 54, No. 27
Helping the child who cannot ask
Torah Study
RABBI NEIL GILMAN
Tzav/Leviticus 6:1-8:36
What does a teacher do when he has answers but no questions?
The purpose of the Passover seder is to teach the story of our redemption from slavery. Our dining room becomes a classroom and the Haggadah our textbook. The teaching is based on a question-and-answer model, beginning with the Mah Nishtanah questions at the outset, and concluding with the questions that lead to the explanations for the Passover sacrifice, the matzo and the bitter herbs.
The whole purpose of the seder is to answer these questions.
In between come the four children, but here there are four answers for only three questions. The editors of our Haggadah began with three biblical verses, each of which includes both a question and an answer.
From the way in which the three questions were formulated, they inferred three types of children - the wise child, the wicked, and the simple. But then they found one passage (Exodus 13:8) that has an answer without an explicit question. To deal with this passage, they created a fourth child, the one who doesn't know how to ask.
Why didn't they stick with the three explicit questions and answers and their three children?
As a teacher, I feel particularly challenged by this child. How often have I had the experience of explicating a complex theological issue in class, then pausing to ask my students if they had any questions, and being greeted with a deafening silence. That silence disturbs me. Why are there no questions? Is it because I did such a wonderful job of teaching? Hardly.
More likely, this fourth child is one who doesn't know how to formulate a pertinent question.
I can identify with this fourth child. Sometimes, I too don't know how to formulate the right questions. I have just listened to an explanation regarding some computer operation. My instructor believes that his explanation has been quite clear, but I am totally bewildered. He asks me if I have any questions. I have hundreds of questions, but I don't even know how to begin to ask them.
One has to have a minimal level of knowledge to begin to ask the pertinent questions. My teacher assumes that I have that basic information, but I don't.
What do I do then? Far too often, I am ashamed at my ignorance, so I fall silent. But what should I do? Clearly press him to begin where I am, not where he thinks I am or where I should be.
Or if he is a gifted teacher, he has figured out how to help me ask my own questions. Then I can begin to learn.
This is precisely how the Haggadah has us deal with this child who doesn't know how to ask. It instructs us, the teachers, to "open" the dialogue. This means we should help this child get in touch with the questions that are buried within him. To help the child ask those buried questions is the true test of the great teacher.
Some Jewish educators bemoan the fact that our generation is replete with children who don't know enough to ask the right questions. They understand that as an indication of the widespread ignorance of Judaism among contemporary Jews.
That may be so, but we can also view the presence of that child at our seder as a gift. We know how to deal with the wise, wicked and simple child. But the presence of a child who doesn't know how to ask can transform the seder for everyone, even for the wise children.
Who knows what unanticipated issues may arise. Our success in helping this child discover the buried questions can make the seder the genuine learning experience it was designed to be.
Rabbi Neil Gillman is a professor of Jewish philosophy at the Jewish Theological Seminary.
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