Let’s take a pause from the text of the Haggadah for just a moment to consider it holistically. The book leads us through a script of paragraphs, steers us through debates, and guides us through memories. But the path is not arbitrary. The Haggadah is intentionally sequenced to escort us through a specific emotional and spiritual experience. When considered this way, it is quite odd to place Baruch Hamakom between an intellectual discussion, (which ends in reference to the coming of mashiach) and the discussion of the four sons. The text of Baruch Hamakom is odd compared to the scripted, cerebral, and scholarly text of the Haggadah. It is almost as if someone haphazardly dropped a line of Hallel in the middle of Maggid. Consider the sentence- say it without the singsong in which it is generally read:
בָּרוּךְ הַמָּקוֹם... בָּרוּךְ הוּא... בָּרוּךְ שֶׁנָּתַן תּוֹרָה לְעַמּוֹ יִשְׂרָאֵל... בָּרוּךְ הוּא.
It is as if we are whispering a prayer as it travels from our hearts to our lips… as if we are taking a breath and reminding ourselves:
Blessed is Hamakom…
Blessed is He…
Blessed is the One Who Gave the Torah to Israel…
Blessed is He…
The Avudraham’s approach to this verse sheds some light on why this line is included at this point in the Haggadah:
ברוך המקום שנתן תורה לישראל, רז"ל כנו שמו של הקב"ה מקום לפי שהוא מקומו של עולם ואין העולם מקומו
“Blessed is Hamakom who gave the Torah to Israel,” our rabbis taught the name of God as Hamakom, The Place, because He is the place for the world, the world is not His place.
Baruch Hamakom takes us from God as Hamakom to He who gave us the Torah. We go from the vagaries of God as the location of the world-- an infinitude that encompasses our whole universe-- to God who entered a covenant with a group of lowly Israelites. The inspiration of the infinite divine is important and powerful, but it is not enough to answer the questions of the four sons. We take a breath to move from awe to intimacy, wonder to relationship. This is what we pass down to our children.
This passage brings us back into the specific relationship that we have with God in order to adequately answer the four sons and remain mindful of our personal connection to the story throughout the evening.
A poem by Yehuda Amichai beautifully captures the unique power of recalling our personal and national history with Hashem:
״אין כאלקנו, אין כאדננו,״ כך מתפללים
״אין כאלקנו, אין כאדננו,״ שרים בקול גדול
והוא לא מגיב. ואנחנו מגבירים את קולנו ושרים
״מי כאלקנו, מי כאדננו,״ והוא לא זז
ולא פונה אלינו.
ואנו מוסיפים עוד בכוח תחנונים
״אתה הוא אלקנו,אתה הוא אדנינו.״ אולי יזכור
אותנו עכשיו? אבל הוא נשאר אדיש, אפילו
פונה אלינו בעינים זרות וקרות
והפסקנו לשיר ולצעוק ואומרים לו בלחישה
ומזכירים לו משהו פרטי, משהו קטן
״אתה הוא שהקריבו אבתנו לפניך
את קטרת הסמים״ אולי יזכור עכשיו
(כמו איש שמזכיר לאישה אהבה ישנה:
את לא זוכרת איך קנינו נעליים
בחנות הקטנה בפינה וירד הרבה גשם
בחוץ וצחקנו הרבה)?
ונדמה שמשהו מתעורר בו ואולי זכר,
אבל העם היהודי כבר נגמר.
“There is none like our God, there is none like our master,” Thus we pray.
“There is none like our God, there is none like our master,” We sing in a great voice
And he does not react. And we raise our voices and sing
“Who is like our God, who is like our Master,” and he does not move
And does not turn to us.
And we add more with the strength of pleading, “You are our God, You are our master.” Maybe you remember us now? But he remains indifferent, even turns to us with eyes strange and cold.
And we’ve stopped to sing and shout and we say to him in a whisper and remind him of something private, something small
“You are the one to whom our forefathers brought the Ketoret” maybe you remember now
(Like a man reminding a woman of an old love: you don,t remember how we bought shoes
In the small shop at the corner as a lot of rain fell outside and we laughed so much)?
And it seems like something is awakened in him and maybe he remembers,
But the Jewish nation has already concluded.
As in our Hagaddah, in this poem we engage with God first through praise of his incomprehensible immensity, and when that fails, we move to our memories and shared history. As a plea, we whisper a colloquial, personal, shared experience between us and God, as we brace ourselves to answer difficult questions. Recentered, we are strengthened by the cherished memories of our covenant.