The focus of the Pesach seder is questions. The child asks, “Mah nishtana;” Rabban Gamliel’s explanation of the mitzvos of the night begins with the question of “…Al shum mah?,” why do we eat matzah, maror, Pesach; the dunking of karpes was instituted to elicit curiosity. I don’t know if it is paradoxical to raise a question about all these questions, but I’ll do so anyway -- why not just review the history of yetziyas Mitzrayim and narrate explanations for the mitzvos without first questioning and only then coming to an explanation?

R’ Tzadok haKohen (Pri Tzadik Pesach 2) explains that it is not knowledge alone, not the reasons for the mitzvos or the history of yetziyas Mitzrayim, not saying over all the Vilna Gaons or Abarbanels, which we are trying to give over to our children (and ourselves) on the night of Pesach. What we are trying to engender is a feeling, an emotional experience, a sense of wonder. Imagine if you got woken up in the middle of the night by the phone ringing and some anonymous voice told you a million dollars had been deposited in your bank account. Before the call disconnects, wouldn’t you be shouting questions into the phone: Who is this? Why did I get the money? How did this happen? Pesach night is that wake up call, when we suddenly find our spiritual bank account infused with wealth beyond what we deserve. Our reaction should be one of contagious curiosity, awe, amazement -- this is not a time for dry discourse. “Afilu kulanu Chachamim… mitzvah l’sapeir.” R’ Tzadok writes that the mitzvah of sippur is incumbent even upon the wise not just because there is always more to learn, but because there is this additional layer to the kiyum of sippur that…