An eight-day springtime festival (in Israel, seven days) beginning on the 15th day of Nisan, Passover (in Hebrew, Pesach) celebrates the miraculous Exodus of the enslaved Jewish people in ancient Egypt. The first two nights of the holiday feature a Seder (in Israel, only the first night), at which the dramatic story of escape is retold in a manner particularly tailored for children, encouraging them to ask questions. Drinking four cups of wine, eating matzah, partaking of bitter herbs, and singing the Hallel psalms are activities central to Seder observance. The Passover Haggadah, a guide composed especially for the occasion, enumerates the Seder’s fifteen steps and usually offers commentary on them as well, revealing the symbolic meaning behind each and every special food and ritual gesture. Another side of the festival’s special food requirements: during the course of the eight days of the holiday, one diligently refrains from consuming foods made from or containing leavened grain products (referred to as chametz).
In his lectures, Professor Wiesel’s comments on the holiday are richly diverse. Some excerpts echo the commentary in his Passover Haggadah; others show the link to his novel, The Fifth Son; still others highlight the unfathomable will of Jews celebrating Passover under the most atrocious conditions. Clearly, the Passover Seder is a time for study—for being “penetrated by truth”; yet it is also a time to protest the insufferable length of the Exile. For Professor Wiesel, meaning resides in all things: a seemingly silly Passover song teaches that everything is connected; and certain customs reveal the value of any and all human life. May the excerpts that follow help us to see with his eyes, to learn from his knowledge and wisdom, and to celebrate the miracles of Passover—and of life—with his joy and depth.
In Modern Tales: The Fifth Son, November 15, 1984
In the Passover Haggadah, we are told of four sons. The first knows the question. The second rebels against it. The third is unaffected by it. The fourth doesn’t even know the question. And I imagine that the fifth son is the one who is not there...
In Hasidism: The Shpole Zeide, October 24, 1985
One Passover eve, [the Shpole Zeide] exclaimed, “Master of the universe, according to custom, we begin the Seder on Passover eve with the word Kadesh.” That is, as soon as the family comes home from the synagogue, the father must immediately sit down at the table. Why such a hurry? So that the children should not fall asleep, since they must ask the Four Questions and hear the story of the Exodus.
And what is the question [the children must ask]? Mah nishtanah halailah hazeh? Why is this night different [from all other nights]? “Well,” said the Shpole Zeide, “Master of the universe, we are Your children, and we are all tired. We are so exhausted. Please, say Kadesh quickly. Sanctify us with joy, make haste and deliver us from exile as long as we are still awake. Let us not fall asleep, for once we are sleeping, You will not want to come and deliver us.”
And when they heard these words, we are told, the followers, the Hasidim, started to weep, and the Zeide stopped them. “No,” he said, “brother Jews, no sadness tonight. Tonight we shall rejoice. Tonight we make our Father in heaven be part of our joy. Let us show Him that the child is capable of dancing in the dark.”
In Hasidism: The Relevance of Hasidism Today, October 17, 1991
This story is sure, it’s clear, it’s a true story. The Rebbe of Kalev himself didn’t write books, and his disciples didn’t collect his sayings in book form. That, too, was different. We know that at the Seder on Passover eve, he would sing the Haggadah in Hungarian, not in Hebrew.
How do we know that? We know that because Reb Shmelke of Nikolsburg, who was his master, on Passover eve during the Seder, would close his eyes, and then he was capable of seeing every one of his disciples, and hear them saying the Haggadah.
Except for the Kaliver Rebbe, because the Kaliver Rebbe spoke Hungarian--and Reb Shmelke didn’t know Hungarian.
An Evening of Questions with Elie Wiesel, April 22, 1999
"Let's study. What can I give you? Let's study." "Since it's Passover, let's study the Haggadah," the story of Exodus. And just then I was working on a Haggadah with my friend, Mark Podwal, who was doing the great illustrations, the drawings. And I was preparing the commentaries.
So I said to him, "Look, what a strange story. It begins with a drama, almost a cosmic drama. Egypt in turmoil, a people of slaves becoming independent, God bringing us to Sinai. It has the magnitude of extraordinary events. And how does it end? With a silly story, Had Gadya. A silly, childish story: my father sold a goat, and then came that, and then came the cat, and then came the dog, and then came this, and fire.
What is this? The Seder begins in such a great way--and ends like that? Like a joke? I said, "We must understand the meaning of the prayer, of the song. What does it teach us? That everything is connected..."
Faith, April 13, 2000
I must confess that these words are to me so special because we are now just a few days before Passover. And to us Hungarian Jews, the days of Nisan and Iyar, and the month of Nisan, which is just two weeks before Passover. And then -- until just before Shavuot, so two months -- are very special. Eichmann came in on March 19 to Budapest, and he began right away. All he had was 200 people working for him. And, in less than 10 weeks, 600,000 Jews were deported. Pesach, we were still home. The last holiday that we had at home was Pesach. Shavuot, we were already elsewhere...
And one [of the Sonderkommando diaries] was written by a man who signed YARA -- yud, alef, resh, alef. And nobody knew who he was really -- YARA was an acronym -- until, I think, a historian, Ber Mark, discovered that there was in the Sonderkommando a dayan, rabbinic judge, and his name was Aryeh Leib Langfus. And he realized that YARA means Yehuda Aryeh -- Aryeh Leib -- Regel Arucha Langfus. He is the one who kept a diary. And when you read this diary, I tell you, you go to the depth of your soul, or the depth of your being, to find some spark of faith and hope. The way he writes for someone that -- literally, the quality of these writings. And, what we’ve found now, even with more conversations that an Israeli journalist with living members of the Sonderkommando -- there were very few, because usually they were killed after a few months, until the next group came in -- that there, in the shadow of the flames, some people were simply davening every morning with tallis and tefillin.
Some managed to bake matzo in the crematory for Passover. If I hadn't read it, black and white, I wouldn't have believed it. And they had minyan every day; they went on praying. How did they do that?
The Rebbe of Ger, April 14, 2011
What was essential [to the Rebbe of Ger] was the total connection with Torah, which means both practice and study. Hundreds--rumors spoke of thousands--of followers hurried to spend Passover under his roof. He would tell them, “Listen. I am not just a regular teacher for everyone. I don’t need money. Honors, I had enough in my life, I don’t need more now. What I desire most is to have you penetrated by truth, by helping you come closer to our Father in heaven. And he who wants something else: his place is not here.”
The Quest for Peace in Judaism, October 25, 2012
We do not say the entire Hallel prayer on [the seventh day of] Passover; on Sukkot, yes, but not on Passover, although the crossing of the Red Sea was a miracle! And what a miracle: the liberation from slavery; Jews were saved, the whole people were saved.
We do not recite those [Hallel] Psalms because the miracle of the crossing of the Red Sea resulted in too many casualties among the Egyptians. When people die, no praise is justified. Not even the praise of God Himself.