I was intrigued by an article in the New York Times about the , so I bought a copy. I thought the name was a tad odd, but then Apple called their third generation iPad the “New iPad,” so maybe it’s in vogue to name things by adding the word new in front of an obvious name.
Before I even cracked the New American Haggadah open, I had a basic idea of what to expect. The New American Haggadah is designed to be avant garde. It is artistic in an almost postmodern way, it is typographically pleasing, the commentary is meant to inspire American Jews, and it was not Orthodox. The commentaries were written by Jeffrey Goldberg, Lemony Snicket, Rebecca Newberger Goldstein, and Nathaniel Deutsch. The translation is the work of Nathan Englander. The entire project was edited by Jonathan Safran Foer.
One thing I looked for in this new haggadah was whether it would be acceptable to Orthodox Jews. Would anything in it offend their adherence to halakha and their general worldview? I also wondered if the commentary would be any good, even without considering the blood pressure of Orthodox Jews. The last thing I wanted to see about the New American Haggadah was if I would enjoy its presentation of the classic text and of the Passover seder experience.
One Shabbos afternoon, I read through the whole thing. The New American Haggadah has three basic functions: First, it offers the text of the haggadah in the original Hebrew together with a contemporary English translation. Second, a running timeline of Jewish history with a focus on Passover, completely independent of the narrative, runs through the haggadah atop the main body of text. Finally, a collection of essays provide food for thought during important segments of the seder. Throughout the haggadah, instructions and laws are outlined and these are, halakhically speaking, accurate enough. The specific portions for the mitzvoth of matzah and maror, etc, are not precise. They are not wrong, just vague.
My impression of the text was overwhelmingly positive. The Hebrew text is true to Jewish tradition. This was reassuring. I did not know quite what to expect, but since the seder has been through many iterations in modern times, I had a healthy concern that the text would be different than what I was used to. Fortunately, this was not an issue at all.
My next area of concern was the English translation. I must say that I was thoroughly impressed with the translation as well. It combines beautiful English, devotion to tradition, and appropriate modern adjustments. One novel translation was the response to the “wicked son.” The New American Haggadah translates this section as follows (emphasis mine): “And by divorcing himself from the community he denies our very essence. Moreover, you must blunt the bite of his words, by telling him…” This is not the translation that most literate Jews would use, but it is true to the text and very insightful. A second example of novel translation is found in “v’hi sh’amda,” where the New American Haggadah adds some poetic nuance: “For it was not one alone who stood over us, a heel on our necks, bent on our annihilation…” I found that to be a nice touch. One last translation that stuck out was the adjustment from the oft-used “simple son” to the “artless son”. This is perhaps no better than “simple,” but “simple” is horribly simplistic as well.
The New American Haggadah adds one section of text I had not seen previously in other editions. At the time that we fill the “fifth cup” and open the door for “sh’fokh hamatkha,” the New American Haggadah adds a couple of verses from Tanakh about Elijah the Prophet. It offends me slightly, because the idea that Elijah the Prophet visits our home when we open the door is of questionable vintage and certainly not universally held. Nevertheless, all in all, the text and translations of were outstanding.
The most problematic aspect of the New American Haggadah for Orthodox Jews is the timeline, which is confidently academic and may, at times, offend traditional sensibilities. Further, the timeline’s focus on purely secular Jewish accomplishments is of little to no value to most Orthodox seders. One would be hard-pressed to find anything that could truly be labeled heretical in the timeline, but I envision it being a source of discomfort for many Orthodox Jews. Personally, I liked most of it.
The commentary of the New American Haggadah was much better than I expected. The thrust of the commentary is best described as fresh and relevant—heavy on lessons that apply in 2012 and light on rabbinic interpretation. However, the rabbis of the Talmud and beyond do make several appearances. If I had to point out the commentary’s biggest flaw, I would say it is at times too irreverent. Orthodox Jews may cringe at a few of the essays that paint a picture of God not completely in-sync with contemporary Orthodox views of God and His role in the world.
Still, many of the commentary’s essays offer excellent ideas written in excellent prose that will surely spur lively discussion of the haggadah so familiar to Orthodox Jews. One essay, for example, speaking about “the Chosen People,” proclaims: “Chosenness can sometimes feel like loneliness; a burden. Perhaps it is for this reason the haggadah reminds us that our chosenness is an expression of love and a source for rejoicing.” Sounds like something an Orthodox rabbi would say. Commenting on the statement “today we are slaves,” the New American Haggadah asks the obvious question “But we are not slaves today?” and answers that our impoverishment is our inability to do all the good that we want to do in our lives. If I told you that thought came from Reb Yisrael Salanter, you would believe me. But it does not. Another classic-sounding insight is the proposal that the plague killing all the firstborn of Egypt is a “measure for measure” for the Egyptian decree to drown all the baby boys into the Nile, with which the commentary takes on the persona of the traditional Jewish commentators. This phenomenon recurs several times in the New American Haggadah. There are other nice “vertlach” sprinkled throughout the commentary, such as the parallel between the hiding of the afikoman and the hiding of Moshe as a baby that led to our salvation.
There are two other kinds of commentary in the New American Haggadah that are bound to rankle some orthodox Jewish sensibilities. One offense is justified; the other might not be. There are a very small number of essays that are understandably problematic. For example, one essay proposes that just like us, sometimes God forgets about people other than Himself. Ouch. But other than that, I found that the irreverence and nonchalant tone about God and the Passover story are rarely so offensive, if at all.
The most common form of commentary in the New American Haggadah might be anathema to many Orthodox Jewish readers: namely, the attempt to take the lessons of the seder and apply them to society at large, with a tikkun olam flavor. Personally, I think no Jew should recoil at the mere mention of tikkun olam, but many do. One essay remarks that Shifra and Puah are the first examples of “civil disobedience.” This is a great point and definitely something to think about. However, few Orthodox Jews will find meaning in spending precious moments at the seder discussing it. Another essay tells a great story about Palestinian prisoners eating matzah on Passover—because that is what they were served—and invites questions about prison, the Intifada, and Israel. One humorous comparison pits Elijah the Prophet against Santa Claus. Both “visit” homes, but Santa is forced to go through the chimney, whereas we stand up and open the door for Elijah. Again, this is a great conversation starter, but not the kind of conversation one would expect at a traditional seder. Then again, maybe it should be. Our seders are so focused on the past and interpretations from the past. The New American Haggadah offers some wonderful opportunities to bring the discussion into 2012, and that might be a very good thing for some Orthodox Jewish seders.
In general, the preference of Orthodox Jews is to quote rabbis and Torah scholars at the seder, but as Maimonides famously said, “Hear truth from whoever says it,” and I see nothing wrong with including the thoughts and ideas of a few American Jews who are not rabbis or even observant.
My only real criticism of the New American Haggadah and its attempt to be cool and hip, is that it forces the reader to turn the book on its side to read the essays and on its other side to read the timeline. Maybe I simply do not feel the kinetic vibe, but I find it odd and quite annoying. I cannot see how it enhances the experience.
My verdict is that the New American Haggadah is acceptable for Orthodox Jews. It offers some things that will undoubtedly improve your average seder. It contains others that will get ignored, but that may not be for the best. Some parts should be ignored, in my opinion, and that is okay too. (If you want to avoid the most problematic essay, skip the one that begins: “God, who supposedly knows everything…”) I recommend the New American Haggadah for most readers. If, like me, its alternative approach does not alarm you, I cannot it highly enough.
Rabbi Eliyahu Fink is the rabbi of Pacific Jewish Center / Shul on the Beach in Venice Beach CA. Rabbi Fink is also a 2012 JD Candidate at Loyola Law School in Los Angeles. He blogs at http://finkorswim.com/.
Links:
Original Post on Finkorswim.com
Purchase your copy of the