In many old Haggadot, around Kadesh, there is a picture of a rabbit hunt. The reason for this is that, when the Seder night begins at the close of Shabbat—as it does this year—five blessings are recited in a particular order, which the Talmud gives as יַקְנְהָ״ז—“YaQNeHaZ.” These five blessings are: (Y) yayin, the wine, (Q) kiddush, sanctifying the day, (N) ner, for the flame for havdalah, (H) havdalah for the end of Shabbat, and (Z) zman, that is, Shehechiyanu for reaching this occasion. This mnemonic sounds like the German sentence “jag den Has¹,” which means “hunt the hare,” which is why many old Haggadot include this visual mnemonic.

Now, this particular “YaQNeHaZ” order was not a foregone conclusion. In Pesachim 103a, eight Sagesranging from third-generation Tanna, Rabbi Yehoshua ben Chanania until fourth-generation Pumpeditan Amora Mar bar Ravana, promote eight different permutations of yayin, kiddush, ner and havdalah. Then, Abaye and Rava, fourth-generation Amoraim in Pumbedita, accept Rav’s version of יַקְנֶ״ה and debate the placement of zman. With few exceptions, we rule like Rava, giving us יַקְנְהָ״ז.

Each permutation isn’t arbitrary, but the result of careful thought and prioritization within pairs of elements. The sugya doesn’t flesh it out, though Rashbam provides a fairly comprehensive analysis. For instance, Rav/יַקְנֶ״ה maintains that kiddush, sanctification of the day, is more important and should precede havdalah; alternatively, bidding farewell with havdalah first makes it appear as if Shabbat is a burden. Also, wine should precede kiddush because of the Beit Hillel ordering, based on giving precedence to the tadir/more frequent. The flame precedes havdalah, like any motzei Shabbat. Shmuel/יִנְהַ״ק, meanwhile, places havdalah before kiddush because we’d first escort out the king before greeting the arriving governor.

Much of our Seder is fixed. That’s good, because we, thereby, take the right action. We see the rabbit and practice יַקְנְהָ״ז. Still, I don’t feel that any of the Sages acted improperly. These Amoraim didn’t just mindlessly echo a fixed practice, but thought through the halachic priorities and decided what order was best. We see similar fluidity with Rabba and Rav Nachman accepted variations in the Ma Nishtana (Pesachim 115 and Pesachim 116), Rav and Shmuel with different approaches to describing movement from disgrace to glory, or Rabban Gamliel stating minimal concepts to be discussed in Maggid, assuming that it could take many forms. We should aspire to be similarly mindful as we progress through Kadesh and the Seder in general. As we say in bentching (Tehillim 34:10), “Yiru et Hashem kedoshav—Fear Hashem, His holy ones,” “Ki ein machzor liyreiav—For those who fear him don’t use a machzor.”

An Unprepared Tipesh

The way to be mindful of such details and meaning is to prepare beforehand. Now, you might point to the wise son, who asks מָ֣ה הָֽעֵדֹ֗ת and is told of the laws of the (korban) Pesach. That would perhaps be fine if that were our actual focus on the Seder night, an intensive study session/post-Temple fulfillment of korban Pesach by learning its laws, à la ונשלמה פרים שפתינו. (In my Haggadah, the Haggadah of the Ri m’Josh, I point out that some Tannaim took this approach.)

The Yerushalmi Pesachim 10:4 has a variant text of the Four Sons, which reads:

תַּנֵּי רִבִּי חִייָה. כְּנֶגֶד אַרְבָּעָה בָּנִים דִּיבְּרָה תוֹרָה. בֶּן חָכָם בֶּן רָשָׁע בֶּן טִיפֵּשׁ בֶּן שֶׁאֵינוֹ יוֹדֵעַ לִשְׁאָל. בֶּן חָכָם מָהוּ אוֹמֵר. מָ֣ה הָֽעֵדֹ֗ת וְהַֽחֻקִּים֙ וְהַמִּשְׁפָּטִ֔ים אֲשֶׁ֥ר צִוָּ֛ה ה’ אֱלֹקינוּ אוֹתָנוּ. אַף אַתָּה אֱמוֹר לֹו. בְּחוֹזֶק יָ֗ד הֽוֹצִיאָ֧נוּ ה’ מִמִּצְרַ֖יִם מִבֵּ֥ית עֲבָדִֽים׃ בֶּן רָשָׁע מָהוּ אוֹמֵר. מָ֛ה הָֽעֲבוֹדָה הַזֹּ֖את לָכֶֽם. מַה הַטּוֹרַח הַזֶּה שֶׁאַתֶּם מַטְרִיחִין עָלֵינוּ בְּכָל (שָׁעָה וְשָׁעָה) [שָׁנָה וְשָׁנָה]. מִכֵּיוָן שֶׁהוֹצִיא אֶת עַצְמוֹ מִן הַכְּלָל אַף אַתָּה אֱמוֹר לוֹ. בַּֽעֲב֣וּר זֶ֗ה עָשָׂ֤ה ה’ לִ֔י׃ לִי עָשָׂה. לְאוֹתוֹ הָאִישׁ לֹא עָשָׂה. אִילּוּ הָיָה אוֹתוֹ הְאִישׁ בְּמִצְרַיִם לֹא הָיָה רָאוּי לְהִיגָּאֵל מִשָּׁם לְעוֹלָם. טִיפֵּשׁ מָהוּ אוֹמֵר. מַה־זֹּ֑את. אַף אַתְּ לַמְּדוֹ הִילְכוֹת הַפֶּסַח. שֶׁאֵין מַפְטִירִין אַחַר הַפֶּסַח אֲפִיקִימוֹן. מַהוּ אֲפִיקִימוֹן. שֶׁלֹּא יְהֵא עוֹמֵד מֵחֲבוּרָה זוֹ וְנִכְנַס לַחֲבוּרָה אֲחֶרֶת. בֶּן שֶׁאֵינוֹ יוֹדֵעַ לִשְׁאָל אַתְּ פְּתַח לוֹ תְחִילָּה.

There’s so much to analyze and contrast here, but note that the wise son asks, מָ֣ה הָֽעֵדֹ֗ת, perhaps meaning, “What is the import of these laws … which Hashem has taught us²?” The answer is בְּחוֹזֶק יָ֗ד, that is, the actual tale of the exodus from Egypt and Hashem’s might. Meanwhile, the tipesh—foolish son still asks מַה־זֹּ֑את, perhaps even, “What is happening here?” In Rabbi Chiya’s baraita variant—rather than focusing on the story—this tam (simple one) must be taught the laws of Pesach, because he comes utterly unprepared.

This Pesach, let us prepare a bit before the Seder, maybe by reading through relevant portions of the 10th perek of Pesachim. Also, maybe we can introduce some fluidity and wake people up, for instance, by swapping in Rabbi Chiyya’s baraita and discussing its meaning.

Rabbi Dr. Joshua Waxman teaches computer science at Stern College for Women, and his research includes programmatically finding scholars and scholastic relationships in the Babylonian Talmud.

1. German “j” is pronounced /y/ and “s” is pronounced /z/.
2. German “j” is pronounced /y/ and “s” is pronounced /z/. Their version of the verse is also אוֹתָנוּ instead of the Masoretic text’s אֶתְכֶֽם.