“I’m just asking questions.”

We’ve been hearing that a lot lately. 

Anything wrong with that? No. I mean, yes. Actually, it’s a good question. 

Questions are of course very important. They drive learning and foster critical thinking. They unlock deeper wisdom, and lead to better-decision making. They build relationships by demonstrating trust and interest in others.

Unlike some fundamentalist communities which built their faith system and worldview through dogma and quiet acceptance, Judaism strongly encourages asking questions. The mishnah in Pirkei Avot 2:5 teaches: “A bashful person is unable to properly study.” The first Jew, Abraham, learned to abandon paganism and discover monotheism through asking questions. The Bible is filled with Jewish heroes who raised disconcerting theological questions, including Moses, Jeremiah, and Job.

Famously, when the Jewish people stood at the foot of Mount Sinai and were offered the Torah by G-d, the Jews responded, ‘naaseh v’nishma’, which means: ‘We will obediently follow G-d’s law, and we will diligently seek to understand them’.

Arguably, long before the Greek philosopher Socrates developed the now popular Socratic Method of education which values questions-based learning, Jewish parents and teachers encouraged their children and students to study Torah by way of asking questions to pursue a deeper understanding of religious and spiritual ideas. This is clearly exhibited in the Talmud, the foundational collection of Rabbinic literature, in which each page and each topic is recorded with complex questions and intense debate.

All this being said, it is important to recognize that there are questions and there are questions. Not all questions are equal.

One of the most important nights and ritual ceremonies on the Jewish calendar is the Pesach Seder. Each year, on the anniversary marking the Jewish people’s exodus from Egypt and their birth as a new nation, Jews sit around the table and recount the story – of slavery, exodus, freedom, and national sovereignty in the land of Israel. The Bible is very specific about how the story should be transmitted, particularly to the next generation: not through a ‘frontal teaching’ method, in which the parent or host lectures the children and guests, but rather as a response to the questions and curiosity of the children.

“And when your children ask you, ‘What does this ceremony mean to you?’ then tell them, ‘It is the Passover sacrifice to the L‑rd, who passed over the houses of the Israelites in Egypt and spared our homes when He struck down the Egyptians.’” (Exodus 12:26-27)

“In days to come, when your son asks you, ‘What does this mean?’ say to him, ‘With a mighty hand the L‑rd brought us out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery.’” (Exodus 13:14)

These Biblical passages led the Jewish Sages to identify ‘Four Children’, four personality paradigms who may attend the Seder, four kinds of questions, and four methods of responses. All of these are recorded in the Haggadah liturgy which we recite at the Seder.

First, the undeveloped child who has no knowledge or interest about anything going on. He sits at the table but doesn’t ask any questions. To him we are instructed to ‘awaken their curiosity’.

Next, the simple child, who is uneducated but keenly observant of all that is happening. He asks innocent and straightforward questions, such as “What is all this about?”

The next two children are the most interesting ones to explore – the ‘wise child’ and the ‘wicked child’. 

Both of them seem educated and engaged, and they both ask big questions. Yet one is respected and praised, and the other is scorned and criticised.

The wise one asks, “What are the statutes and the laws which the L‑rd, our G‑d, has commanded?” In response, you shall teach him the laws…

The wicked one asks, “What is this service to G-d – which you engage in – all about?!” He says `you,’ … By thus excluding himself from the community he has denied that which is fundamental. You, therefore, blunt his teeth and say to him: “… If he had been in Egypt, he would not have been redeemed!”

What is the difference between these two questions? Why is one ‘wise’ and embraced, and the other ‘wicked’ and rejected?

The text itself seems to suggest an obvious explanation, that the wise son includes himself in the Jewish community – “the L-rd our G-d”, whereas the wicked son excludes himself – “this service which you engage in”.

But perhaps it goes deeper than that.

The difference between an acceptable and an unacceptable question has a lot to do with the attitude and motive of the one asking the question.

‘Wise’ questions are ones that are asked with humility, and a genuine curiosity for knowledge and understanding. ‘Wicked’ questions are asked with cynicism, in bad faith, in an attempt to undermine and weaponize.

A sincere question seeks truth. A cynical question seeks suspicion.

The mishnah in Pirkei Avot (5:17) teaches: “Any dispute that is for the sake of Heaven deserves to endure; one that is not for the sake of Heaven will not endure. Which is a dispute that is for the sake of Heaven? The disputes between Hillel and Shamai. Which is a dispute that is not for the sake of Heaven? The dispute of Korach and all his company.”

There are holy disputes and questions, and unholy ones. Hillel and Shamai (and their students) argued constantly with each other. One can just imagine their fierce attacks against each other, each trying to vehemently prove their point and uphold the law of G-d. And yet, they loved and respected each other. They didn’t aim to discredit one another; rather to correct and lift up the other. They even arranged marriages between each other’s families. Korach, on the other hand, waged a rebellion against Moses and Aharon, sought to depose them of their leadership positions, and attempted to seize their power for himself. His dispute was driven by jealousy and corruption. 

We are living in historic and confusing times, and many people are asking many questions. 

We need to engage sincerely with honest questions, while learning to recognize when questions are not asked in good faith.

There is a famous chassidic saying: “An honest person asks questions in order to receive answers; a crooked person looks for answers only so he can ask questions.”

Judaism teaches not to shy away from questions, because questions can open up new worlds of honesty, discovery, and truth. But Judaism also teaches that not every question is a search for truth. Sometimes, they’re a weapon to sow doubt, suspicion, and fear. How appropriate that we take this lesson from the Seder which celebrates redemption – genuine curiosity opens the door for redemption, but cynicism closes all doors.  

I’d like to conclude with a prayer: The Lubavitcher Rebbe offers a remarkable insight into the passage about the ‘wicked son’. Why does the text say “If he had been in Egypt, he would not have been redeemed,” – the subject of the conversation is about Egypt, so the first words ‘if he had been in Egypt’ seem unnecessary? The Rebbe explains that this emphasis highlights that only at the exodus from Egypt would the wicked person have been excluded, but in the future redemption, ‘no Jew will be left behind’. The arrival of the Messiah, who will usher in a Divine light and an era of revealed truth and peace, will cause even the wicked to change their ways and return to G-d’s truth. May we soon merit to see that truth shine brightly, dispelling all evil and hatred, and awakening every heart to our Father in Heaven.

Each Shabbat at the kiddush in our Synagogue, the same l’chaim ceremony occurs. One person makes a toast: “L’Chaim, may all our enemies be wiped off the earth.” Another person responds, “L’Chaim, may all our enemies be turned into our friends.”

To which I say, Amen!

But which one is it? Will they be destroyed or will they repent? Well, that’s a great question!

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)