Why does Biblical Hebrew have no word for history?
Table for Five: Passover I
In partnership with the Jewish Journal of Los Angeles
Edited by Nina Litvak & Salvador Litvak, the Accidental Talmudist
You must observe the practices of Passover as a rule for you and your children forever. – Ex. 12:24
Rabbi Adam Kligfeld, Senior Rabbi, Temple Beth Am
I miss the Pesah s’darim of my children’s youth. I worked hard to make them memorable, surprising, inventive. The work invested to whet their spiritual appetites as we approached Pesah–by writing and practicing skits, composing parodic songs, designing elaborate midrashic artwork with which to festoon the room–imbued within them not only enjoyment of the holiday, but also anticipation of it in advance. They could not wait for seder night to arrive. Because we prepared. We set the table, literally and figuratively.
Those were exhausting years, as father/educator. But immensely rewarding.
Curating anticipation can be read into, and from, our verse. Hebrew roots are pluripotent. “Shamar,” the verb here translated as “observe”, generally means to watch, guard or protect. As in a Jew’s obligation towards mitzvot. But it can also mean to wait expectantly. To anticipate. As when describing Jacob’s reaction to Joseph’s dreams and the burgeoning filial enmity. He waited to see how things would turn out.
If one imports that sense of the verb to our verse, the Torah is not merely commanding us to observe the rites of Passover. But to anticipate them. To yearn for them. To wait in that way that aches, both delightfully and uncomfortably. Because you want it so deeply.
Many Jews rue the arrival of Pesah. The burden is immense. We have turned the holiday of liberation into a certain enslavement. Let us not surrender to that heaviness. Let us build towards seder night with great anticipation. For our children. For us all. Let us put in the holy work that has us aching for these rituals. For spiritual liberation itself.
Dini Coopersmith, Educator, Trip Director, www.reconnectiontrips.com
This verse speaks about Pesach being the most foundational and important holiday in the Jewish calendar, “for you and your children forever.”
Leaving Egypt is forever considered our nation’s story. At this moment, Hashem chose the Jewish People to be His “beloved” chosen Nation. Beforehand, we were a motley group of people. God told Moshe to tell Pharaoh: “my firstborn son is Israel”, so no matter what they do, my love for them is unconditional.
All the practices of the seder night reflect this important point: An infinite God exists, Omniscient, omnipotent, Who chose the Jewish People over all other nations, for a special mission and destiny, to be His messengers and light unto the nations.
Talking about the redemption from Egypt and the 10 plagues fuels our Emunah and trust in God for the entire year; we learn about His supervision and power over all aspects of creation, we express our belief in His ability to overcome our enemies and redeem us, we bask in the knowledge that Hashem loves us unconditionally. There is no limit to the storytelling, “the more you tell about the redemption, the more praiseworthy.” Because Hashem is infinite, there is no limit to Emunah.
As Rabbi Jonathan Sacks ob”m said: “the world we build tomorrow is born of the stories we tell our children today…Teach your children the history of freedom if you want them never to lose it.”
Teach your children the history of Hashem’s unconditional Love for them if you want them never to lose their Emunah.
Judy Gruen, author, “Bylines and Blessings
Here’s a shocker: Biblical Hebrew has no word for history. How can this be? A people whose history is so dramatic, so world-changing religiously, culturally, politically, morally, and universally, has no word for history?
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks explains in essays from his Jonathan Sacks Haggada that for Jews, the word for memory is more foundational than the word for history. The word zachor—remember– appears at least 169 times in the Bible: “Remember that you were strangers in Egypt;” “Remember the days of old;” “Remember the seventh day to keep it holy.” Not only are we told to remember, but to “not forget” what Amalek did to us due to its particular cruelty.
Rabbi Sacks writes, “History is *his* story–an event that happened sometime else to someone else. Memory is *my* story—something that happened to me and is part of who I am. History is information. Memory . . . is part of identity.”
Jews have a long memory. These memories—our lived experiences—are essential to preserving our sense of identity. The Pesach seder is a reenactment of our history through our collective memory. It is the longest-running religious observance in the history of the Western world, and one that even mostly Jews are drawn to celebrate. Paraphrasing Rabbi Sacks, observing Pesach continues our mission of remembering, joining us to a past and future, a history and destiny, making us characters in the story of our creation as a people.
Rabbi Scott N. Bolton, Congregation Or Zarua, New York City, NY
On Passover, we are commanded to tell our children the story of our liberation. This is more than history — it is a transmission of memory, resilience, and responsibility. We teach them that in every generation, enemies rise up against us, seeking our destruction — and yet, through divine grace and human courage, we endure. At the same time, we pour a cup for Eliyahu HaNavi, symbol of hope and promise, who stands for a future redeemed from tyranny, terror, and hate. He reminds us that while the world is broken, it is not beyond repair — and that we are part of its healing.
Children must be engaged through questions, symbols, and song, but the conversation among adults must be real and deep. On this night, we are all banim laMakom — children of the Holy One — equally responsible for remembering and for shaping what comes next.
The Israeli poet Zelda wrote:
“L’chol ish yesh shem she’natnu lo aviv v’imo, v’natnu lo ma’asav.”
“To every person is a name given by their parents — and given by their deeds.”
We inherit more than memory; we inherit a sacred mission. The burdens of history, and the strength drawn from it, bind one generation to the next.
Jewish tradition teaches that messianism is not distant or abstract — it lives within each of us. In every act of justice, in every refusal to give in to despair, we help bring the redemption closer.
David Porush, Ph.D. – student and teacher
The verse literally says, “And you will observe *this* matter as a statute for you and for your children forever.”
The “this” causes a problem. The Hebrew “et” means something very particular. Rabbi Akiva tells us that the word – for which there’s no translation in English – refers to some obscured intention by God.
Normally “this” must refer to the passage just preceding it, commanding the Hebrews to smear blood on their doorposts so the Angel of Death will *pass over* them (Ex 12:23). But the Angel of Death was only a miracle in Egypt. The Sages say that “this” must refer back to the commandment to sacrifice the lamb, eighteen verses earlier, though it’s a really lost antecedent. No one smears blood on their doorpost now. Obviously, the sacrificed Paschal lamb must be observed for all generations.
However, the word “statute” – “chok” – must also give us pause. It means a mitzvah that transcends understanding. We are on supernal ground and should tread humbly.
Talmud tells us the seder is a performance for children, stagecraft to command their attention so they will transmit it to their children. Unfortunately these past 550+ days also reminded us that the Angel of Death hovers on the threshold of our homes even now, looking for clear signs that we are affirmatively Jewish. In fact, the two are the same: the blood on the doorpost is from the Paschal lamb. Only performing both will preserve us for all time.
With thanks to Rabbi Adam Kligfeld, Dini Coopersmith, Judy Gruen, Rabbi Scott N. Bolton, and David Porush.
🤗 Get the best of Accidental Talmudist in your inbox: sign up for our weekly newsletter.
📱NEW! ‘Accidental Talmudist’ App now available for Apple and Android!
🤣 Learn more about Salvador, AT, & Let My People Laugh: linktr.ee/salvadorlitvak