In Search of Freedom

At the Passover Seder, we celebrate the exodus from Egypt, yet we end the opening paragraph of Maggid, Ha Lachma Anya (“This is the bread of affliction”) with the declaration: הָשַּׁתָּא עַבְדֵי—לְשָׁנָה הַבָּאָה בְּנֵי חוֹרִין “this year we are slaves, next year we will be free.” This surprisingly implies that we are still slaves!

For Seder night, we invited scholars and rabbis to contribute a short reflection on the following:

In what ways do you think we are still enslaved or could be more liberated today—collectively or personally?

We Are Not Slaves

There is a clear and unequivocal prohibition against saying a lie in prayer, and such a prayer is not accepted before God! For example, God forbid that one living in the Land of Israel should say, שתעלנו בשמחה לארצנו “May you cause us to ascend, with joy, to our land.” It is more correct to say, שתעלה את כל אחינו בשמחה לארצנו, “May you cause all our brothers to ascend, with joy, to our land.”

At this point in the Haggadah, I say:

השתא עוד יש מאחינו עבדים בתפוצות—לשנה הבאה כולנו בני חורין בארצנו. השתא הכא—לשנה הבאה לפני ה' בבית הבחירה.

This year, there are still some of our siblings who are slaves in the Diaspora—next year, may we be all free in our land. This year, we are here—next year, may we be before God in the Temple.

— Dr. Rabbi Yoel Bin-Nun

Among daily blessings recited by individuals is one that acknowledges “my not having been made a slave” (see b. Menahot 43b). Moreover, the Haggadah proper begins with: “We were once slaves … but God set us free.” In the ancient world captives were often bartered. While we don’t know who composed Ha Lahma Anya, might a group of captives have added, “This year we are slaves”? But persisting to include these words sounds more like a grumble than gratitude.

— Dr. Hacham Isaac S. D. Sassoon

I am not enslaved. There are people in the world who are. The Haggadah helps us encounter the story of the Exodus through experiences that are not our own. How has this story been retold? There are people for whom the story of the Exodus is history and others for whom it is hope. I am retelling the story along with the latter group.

— Dr. Rabbi Devorah Schoenfeld

The Paradox of True Freedom

Is it possible to truly be free? As Bob Dylan crooned, “It may be the Devil or it may be the Lord, but you're gonna have to serve somebody.” Are we not bound to our families, jobs, communities, fears, desires, traumas, and subconscious? Perhaps freedom is choosing our own enslavement. It means having the strength to open our mouths—a “peh-sach” (lit.: “a speaking mouth”; from the Arizal^[1])—and voicing our aspirations to be liberated, to embrace new beginnings, and to be the masters of our own story.

— Benjy Susswein

Of all our contemporary forms of bondage, the most paradoxical is our bondage to freedom. The longing for freedom has become an obsessive fear of strong identity—as though the very fact that I was born a man or a woman, a Jew or a Gentile, shackles me in chains. We should remember that the Haggadah opens with the Kiddush that explicitly states, “For You have chosen us from among all the peoples”—and it is this identity that holds the key to genuine freedom.

— Rabbi Chaim Navon

The Exodus ended Pharaoh’s rule but not the human tendency to recreate domination. We remain enslaved whenever fear or unaccountable power shapes our decisions. Freedom is sustained only when communities build environments of consent and responsibility that protect people’s ability to deliberate, decide, and act.

— Philip Kahn

Relatively few individuals are named in the Exodus stories—Moses, Aaron, Joshua, Korah. How did leaving Egypt change them? Moses, who earlier in Egypt followed instructions, later takes bold initiative—even breaking the tablets. Perhaps the Exodus marks a shift not only in circumstance but in character: from obedience to agency. If so, freedom may mean an ongoing learning curve—learning to take more and more responsibility for ourselves, our community, and the world we live in.

— Prof. Ziony Zevit

Slavery is not merely a legal status; it can be a state of mind. The “master” wears many masks: social pressure, material obsession, social media addiction, sycophancy, or unfulfilling routines. The Exodus from Egypt spirit urges us to transcend these, emerging as liberated individuals guided by genuine free choice.

— Rabbi Yuval Cherlow

At the Seder, we eat Korekh, a sandwich that includes matzah and maror. Matzah—eaten as the Israelites left Egypt—symbolizes freedom. Maror symbolizes the bitterness of slavery. Freedom and slavery are intertwined. Even when enslaved, we have our inner freedom. Even when free, we struggle against various enslavements. Gratitude…and alertness.

— Rabbi Marc D. Angel

The Haggadah and the four freedoms of Franklin D. Roosevelt:^[2]

• Freedom from want – A seven-course meal interspersed with four cups of wine
• Freedom of expression – Children initiate the intellectual give-and-take
• Freedom of worship – “We were slaves to Pharaoh, but God freed us, enabling us to access His worship”
• Freedom from fear – But the fear of God reorientates our worst instincts: וְכוֹף אֶת־יִצְרֵֽנוּ לְהִשְׁתַּעְבֶּד־לָךְ (“subjugate our negative tendencies to Your service”).

— Prof. Rabbi Reuven Kimelman

Freedom from External Validation

We remain enslaved by the “grasshopper complex.” Like the biblical scouts who saw themselves as insects before giants (Numbers 13:33), we outsource our worth to the eyes of others. We build Babel-like skyscraping digital profiles—seeking a “name” that relies on impressing others. True liberation requires reclaiming our stature from all external giants.

— Judy Klitsner

We remain enslaved to what we imagine are other people's opinions of us, and we (mis)behave accordingly. We must liberate ourselves to depend on our own opinions and what we think God wants of us.

— Dr. Rabbi Burton L. Visotzky

At least here in Israel, the main source of our enslavement today is demagoguery. Moses was chosen to lead the liberation of the Israelites because he was not “a man of words” (Exodus 4:10) but “a man of God” (Deuteronomy 33:1).

— Prof. Warren Zev Harvey

Rav Soloveitchik defines freedom as the right (and the dignity/ security) to call it as one sees it whereas. slavery involves inability to say anything that involves judgment for fear that it will be unacceptable to the master (which is why the slave is disqualified from serving as a witness.) Modern Orthodox Rabbis fear to suggest when halachic changes are needed (or to acknowledge that critical scholarship enriches our understanding of Bible) - lest they be delegitimized in the quasi-haredi atmosphere in centrist Orthodoxy. This shows that collective theological slavery persists in our community.

— Dr. Rabbi Irving (Yitz) Greenberg

Social and Material Freedom

We (or at least many of us) are still enslaved to our careers, which quietly claim most of our time and attention. Lucky for me, I am a professor of Hebrew Bible, so working overtime means spending more time with the Torah!

— Prof. Tammi Schneider

“This year we are slaves; next year we will be free.” The line reminds me that we may still be enslaved in subtle ways. As I reflect on what still binds me, I thought about my recent move—after 52 years—from my home in Omer to a retirement village in Tivon. The hardest part was deciding what to take and what to leave. I know that “you can’t take it with you,” although I tried. During the process I realized how my possessions defined me—a form of enslavement. Wanting to hold on to the familiar, I brought too much, keeping myself tied to the past. Now I’m trying to lighten the load—to free myself from this kind of slavery and become less attached to material things.

— Naomi Graetz

A large percentage of humanity today is enslaved to their smartphones. They spend 4.5 - 8 hours per day on email, Facebook, TikTok, Instagram, YouTube, Telegram, and Twitter. Adults do not talk to their spouses and children, while children do not read books and play with their friends—all because of their gadgets. This year, we are slaves; next year, may we learn to be free!

— Prof. Rabbi David Golinkin

People need to be liberated from their phones, especially teenagers. I have suggested as a start even to non-Jewish colleagues that people taking a weekly sabbath away from their phones (rather than complete eradication, as we do with chametz on Pesach for an entire week!).

— Prof. Ben-Zion Katz M.D.

Freedom to See the Other

Notwithstanding the universalistic themes in the Haggadah, Jews today are enslaved by the idea of a God solely of the Jewish people, as opposed to the Creator of the entire world. Freeing ourselves from this parochial idea of God will allow us to better fulfill our role as a light unto the nations.

— Prof. Meylekh (PV) Viswanath

We could be liberated from the solipsism that does not see other people as real. Yes, we know they exist, but as actors in our drama—not for themselves. We must inculcate a deeper belief in b'tselem Elohim, that all people who feel, dream, cry and hope as we do, are in the image of God.

— Rabbi David Wolpe

Too many of us are enslaved by narrow notions of who is part of our Jewish community. The five rabbis who made Seder together in Bnai Brak were quite diverse in fundamental ways and yet they sat respectfully debating all night. May we be at least as inclusive.

— Rabbi Rick Jacobs

We often place people—children or those needing life care—under another’s will for justified reasons. Slavery does not arise from assuming responsibility for others but from exploiting their vulnerability for personal gain. A form of slavery persists within us when we become captive to our own passions, using our vulnerability to chase short term pleasure or material reward. Habits that strengthen reason, discipline, and self-control can free us today, including choosing curiosity over reactivity when we encounter unsettling political views.

— Dr. Andrew Rehfeld

Freedom is an important moral and political virtue, but freedom can also be illusory and self-deceptive. If my neighbor is unfree, I can delude myself to think I am free, but like all illusions, this too will not last long. Genuine freedom requires heeding the wise words of Hillel: מָאן דְּעָלָךְ סָנֵי לְחַבְרָךְ לָא תַעֲבִיד – “What you hate being done to you, never do to your friend.” For the rest, go and study!

— Prof. Yitzhak Melamed

Resentment binds us more tightly than chains. It anchors us to past wounds, narrowing our vision of what life can be. Tonight, as we recall liberation, we are invited to release old burdens, soften hardened memories, and see anew. Freedom begins when we loosen our grip on yesterday and open our hearts to possibility.

— Dr. Rabbi Shmuly Yanklowitz

Political Freedom

To be “slaves,” עבדים, in the Bible often means to be under foreign rule, to lack independence. Ezra (9:9) and Nehemiah (9:36) note that the Judeans were “slaves” in that the land of Israel was part of the Persian Empire. Likewise, Ha Lachma Anya, most likely composed in Babylonia in the Gaonic period, when the land of Israel was under the Abbasid Caliphate, expresses the hope that in the near future the Jews of Babylonia will return to the land of Israel, and that they and the land of Israel will be free of foreign domination. To me, a Jew living in the diaspora, this declaration reminds me that my spiritual self, if not my physical self, longs to be in Israel. It also reminds me that even though Israel is now an independent country, it is an ongoing struggle to maintain its independence. May God free us from this struggle, quickly and in our own days.

— Prof. Adele Berlin

Our God is a God of battered empire, a God of shattered hearts, who despite the challenges of life, invites us to pick ourselves up and continue to pass over toward the promise. And we, an ancient, broken people, we have journeyed on our way across the millennia bringing a message of hope to a broken planet. Do not despair, do not surrender, do not stop. The preparations before the event … The rehearsals before the show… The practice before the race… As we swirl ourselves into the great Feast of Passover, let’s affirm that our discipline and diligence in advance create the trajectory of our freedom and the possibility for real liberation.

— Dr. Rabbi Bradley Shavit Artson

The Torah reminds us repeatedly that we were slaves and urges sensitivity to those still constrained. Slavery isn’t only physical; it can be mental, intellectual, or social—conditions imposed by others that prevent us from fulfilling their potential. Human oppression is one kind of limitation; others arise from the constraints of the natural world or from ourselves. True freedom isn’t the absence of constraints, but the ability to act responsibly within them. Too often, human politics constrain us: as Maimonides notes, אֵין בֵּין הָעוֹלָם הַזֶּה לִימוֹת הַמָּשִׁיחַ אֶלָּא שִׁעְבּוּד מַלְכֻיּוֹת בִּלְבַד—“The only difference between now and messianic days is the oppression of kings” (Laws of Kings 12:2). In that sense, we are still not fully free.

— Dr. Rabbi Jeremy Rosen

Hopes for a Better Future in Israel

When seven murky veils cloud the vision, and the heart is gripped tight with dread, it is hard even to imagine a world where “next year we will be free.” Yet this very capacity—to imagine such a world, to hold fast to faith, to struggle toward it—this is the Jewish imperative now, as it has been throughout our history.

— Prof. Rabbi Dalia Marx

Freedom is as much a state of mind as of body. I remember those four women soldiers, held together as hostages, counting out rice grains to share equally with each other. This year, my son is fighting Hezbollah in Lebanon; my daughter runs to the shelter with her girls nightly. The bread of affliction of these past few years still tastes so bitter. Yet Ha Lachma’ Any’a invites us to persevere, and share its hope with others.

— Prof. Rabbi Rachel Adelman

We have been enslaved by the ongoing threat of Hamas, Hezbollah, the Houthis, and their Iranian sponsors, all of whom look to the restoration of the Islamic Empire in the Middle East and beyond and deny the right of the Jewish people to an independent state in their historical homeland. Hopefully, that threat is now coming to an end.

— Prof. Marvin A. Sweeney

I wrote this song in Haifa, in May 1967. I had been in Israel studying Hebrew in anticipation of entering Leo Baeck College to study for the rabbinate. Shortly afterwards, when it became clear that war was imminent, as a newly qualified and registered medical doctor, I volunteered, and spent the Six Day War working in the Hadassah Hospital. I think the sentiments, and mood, of the song must have caught the atmosphere at the time, and, sadly, remain relevant today. (Listen to the song here.)

L’shanah ha-ba’a birushalayim
Now we are slaves
Tomorrow we shall be free.

L’shanah ha-ba’a birushalayim

Everywhere and nowhere
Under the sun
See Your children run.

Everything and nothing
Chasing the rain
Hear Your children’s pain.

— Prof. Rabbi Jonathan Magonet

I am now living in Israel, and the hope that some conveyed that next year the time-period before (and during) Passover will look very different than it does this year deeply moved me—most especially when it was expressed by my friends and colleagues in the diaspora, who are now able to get a good night’s sleep, who can go outside without thinking, “where will the closest bomb shelter be?” and who are not worried about friends and family getting hurt or killed by missiles or cluster bombs. Thank you for that sense of identification, which is immensely comforting. And thank you all for your thoughts about the different types of freedom we might strive toward—or indeed, for asking if freedom is an ultimate, purely positive, goal.

And thank you to David Steinberg, who posed this question. I have recited this passage more than one hundred times but have never realized how perplexing it is. This is what we try to do at TheTorah.com: encourage people to read texts more closely, asking ever-new questions. Rereading the Ha Lachma Anya passage as a whole, I wonder: What is the connection between feeding the hungry, freedom, and residing in Israel? And how can we aspire to be free when the Bible itself says:

^{ויקרא כה:מב} כִּי־עֲבָדַי הֵם אֲשֶׁר־הוֹצֵאתִי אֹתָם מֵאֶרֶץ מִצְרָיִם

^{Lev 25:42} For they [the Israelites] are my [God’s] servants/slaves whom I brought out of the land of Egypt.

Perhaps you can ponder this as well during the Seder, and send me your answers.

— Prof. Marc Zvi Brettler