As we approach the final days of preparation for Passover 2026, the familiar rhythm of the season begins to take hold. We clean. We plan menus. We hunt for the Haggadot that have been tucked away since last spring. It is a season of logistics, yet if we look beneath the surface of the matzah and the salt water, we find something far more profound. The Seder is not just a retelling of a historical event. It is a radical manifesto on the human right to be curious. It is a reminder that the ultimate proof of our liberation was not just the physical exit from Egypt, but the reclamation of our right to ask why.

In the narrow places of ancient Egypt, curiosity was a liability. A slave does not ask why the bricks require straw or if there is a more efficient way to build a monument. Slavery is the systematic crushing of the inquisitive spirit. It is a system built on the mental silence of the oppressed. When the Israelites crossed the sea, they did not just regain their physical autonomy. They re-activated their minds. The Seder was instituted to ensure we never return to that silence. While we traditionally recite the Four Questions, there is a silent “Fifth Question” that underpins the entire night: Do we realize that having the freedom to engage in our own education is the most profound luxury we possess?

The Seder is designed to provoke this realization through what we might call “holy discomfort.” We perform rituals that feel strange: dipping greens in salt water, leaning to the left, and eating bitter herbs. We do this specifically to spark a reaction. The Haggadah does not start with a dry lecture. It starts with a prompt. It recognizes that true education is not about downloading facts into a passive brain; it is about sparking a fire in an active one. In 2026, where an “answer” to almost any factual query is available in seconds, the act of questioning itself has become more valuable than the result. Jewish education reminds us that we are not searching for a data point. We are searching for meaning.

We see this most clearly in the way the Haggadah handles the Four Children. Whether they are “Wise,” “Rebellious,” “Simple,” or “Unable to Ask,” the text insists that every single one of them has a seat at the table. This is the “Freedom to Engage” in its purest form. It tells us that our heritage is not a one-size-fits-all uniform. It is a personalized journey that meets us exactly where we are. In a truly free community, the skeptic is not silenced, and the simple learner is not ignored. They are given a narrative that speaks to their specific soul.

For much of our history, this freedom was a dream. There were eras when teaching a child, the Hebrew alphabet was a capital offense and when Seders were held in secret basements. Today, we live in an era of unprecedented access. We can study complex texts on our phones or join a global community of learners with a single click. It is easy to treat this as a chore. We often think of it as something we “should” do. Passover reframes it as a “get to.” We get to argue with sages from the second century. We get to debate the ethics of the plagues. We get to be relentlessly curious.

This year, as you sit down at your Seder table, I challenge you to move beyond the traditional script and invite the Fifth Question into the room. Ask your guests to bring one “difficult” question about their identity, their faith, or the world. Look for the kind of question that does not have an easy answer. Reward the most provocative thought, not the most “correct” one. When we allow ourselves to be truly curious, the walls of our own internal “Egypts” begin to crumble. This is where we truly begin to experience what it means to be free.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)