Bo 5767 -- ... Like a Grasshopper on a Seder Plate

We really should put locusts on our seder plates. The function of the seder plate – particularly the z’roah, matzah, and maror – is to begin a conversation, to create a teaching moment. As we say in the seder, “Matzah/maror/pesach al shum mah? – This Matzah/Bitter Herb/Shankbone, what is it about?” Our answers elaborate on our oppression by the Egyptians and the great might with which God ensured our freedom. (As our Haggadot are safely sealed in a hametz-free vault, I won’t write anything more detailed about the Seder).

This is the function of the plague of locusts also, says the Kli Yakar. When God tells Moshe to announce the impending plague of locusts, the Almighty says that one of the purposes is “u’lema’an t’saper b’ozney binkha uven binkha eit asher hitalalti b’Mitzrayim v’et oatotai asher samti vam – and so that you should tell your children and their children what miracles I did in Egypt and all the signs that placed down upon them.” (10:2). This sounds very much like the command “v’higad’ta l’vinkha – and you shall relate to your child” that underlies the whole concept of the seder and haggadah. As the Kli Yakar observes, the locusts are the only one of the Ten Plagues accompanied by this sort of precept.

What is it about the locusts that creates or mandates this sort of teaching moment when none of the other plagues do so? The answer is to be found in Exodus 10:14, which states prophetically that such locusts were never seen eating the plants of Egypt after the lifting of the plague. This remarkable change in locust behavior, says the Kli Yakar, left a roshem, an impression. Future generations of children therefore asked their parents to explain why the locusts only ate plants just over the Egyptian border into Israel, but never plants on the Egyptian side. The responses to these questions would presumably explain that this occurred because of the greatness and might of God.

By contrast, the Kli Yakar claims that none of the other plagues left a roshem. The Torah therefore does not similarly tell us that those plagues occurred so that future generations could hear of the remarkable signs done by the Almighty. It’s true that none of the other plagues worked an ongoing change in the way of life in Egypt, but it is certainly not the case, as the Kli Yakar seemingly suggests, that “ki nishkach zikhram etzel hahamon – the memory of them was forgotten by most.” Would the trauma of the slaying of the first-born really be forgotten?

Perhaps we can explain by saying that the type of roshem left by the locusts is one that children would uniquely notice and question. Parents would therefore be led to explain, in fulfillment of the goal that “u’lema’an t’saper b’ozney binkha uven binkha eit asher hitalalti b’Mitzrayim v’et oatotai asher samit vam – and so that you should tell your children and their children what miracles I did to Egypt and all the signs that placed down upon them.” While doubtlessly the sight of all the drinking water turning to blood, wild beasts running rampage, and the slaughter of first-born sons would precipitate Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder in many adults, children who did not experience these events – and perhaps even young ones who did – would not later be led to ask for explanation.

However, the curious behavior of locusts who treated the Egypt-Israel border as a sort of 38th parallel could well provoke a child to ask “why don't the locusts eat in Egypt also?” In response to this present tense question, a parent would tell the ancient story of the liberation from Egypt. This sort of tying the present to the past is precisely what occurs at the seder, when we are commanded to see ourselves as though we had left Egypt. We accomplish this goal in large part by presenting concrete and present symbols to remind ourselves of our past. Like I said, we should have a locust on the seder plate.