As Pesach approaches, I am reminded of the perhaps apocryphal but nonetheless amusing story of the knighting ceremony for Sir Moses Montefiore. When Queen Victoria touched the sword to his shoulder and dubbed him “Sir Moses,” the expected Latin response escaped his mind. Panic stricken, he blurted out, mah nishtana ha-layla hazeh mikol ha-lailos. The puzzled Queen turned to her aide and asked, “Why is this knight different from all the other knights?”

I guess we shouldn’t be surprised that Queen Victoria translated the Hebrew sentence the way that she did. Many of us were taught to translate it this same way. I’m not sure this is the most accurate translation. I am sure it can be a problematic one.

Mah tovu oholecha Yaakov clearly does not mean, “why are your tents good, Yaakov?” In fact, it isn’t a question at all; it’s a statement of observation: how wonderful are your tents, Yaakov! It would appear more accurate, therefore, to also translate the expression mah nishtana as a statement of observation: how different this night is from all other nights!

The so-called “four questions” are actually observations that explain the exclamation, “how different this night is!” In fact, the Hebrew/Yiddish term for these examples is not “the 4 shailos,” or “questions.” They are called “the 4 kashyos,” four things that are unusual or difficult to understand.

But even if the translation “why is this night different” is imprecise, what’s the problem? Is there any harm in translating it this way?

On all other nights, maybe not. But the Pesach Seder is the quintessential chinuch opportunity and it’s important that we do it right. Let’s look at four fundamental chinuch lessons that the Seder teaches us.

Teach by example. We invite our children to join us in what we are doing, rather than telling them what they should do.

Make sure that expectations are concrete. We are instructed to drink specific amounts of wine and eat specific amounts of matzo and maror. When expectations are concrete, we know when we have met them. We needn’t wonder if we drank “enough” wine and ate “enough” matza.

Celebrate success. We celebrate our success by joyfully singing chasal siddur pesach k’hilchaso. We don’t take success for granted. We notice and make explicit our recognition of having done something well.

Encourage curiosity. We invite children to express surprise at Seder night anomalies.

When a child expresses puzzlement at the unusual foods and format of the Seder and asks for additional information to help him understand it, he is described as a chacham.   When a chacham sees someone doing something unusual he doesn’t say to himself “that doesn’t make sense,” and then ask, “why are you doing that?” He thinks, “I don’t understand that, I wonder what it means,” and he asks to learn more about it.

When a child looks at the anomalies of the Seder night and says, “Why are you doing all this?” the Haggada labels him the rasha. That’s because the word “why” puts the recipient on the defensive. It implies, “What you are doing doesn’t make sense, and you need to justify it.”

It is clearly inappropriate for a child to put a parent on the defensive.

It is seldom helpful for a parent to put a child on the defensive.

When a child disappoints you, it isn’t helpful to ask the child why she did what she did. When you do, they often answer, “I don’t know.”

Here’s a story to illustrate this point:

It was a typical Friday night seudah. Baila asked her father to sing Shalom Aleichem slowly so she could keep up. Devoiry whined that it’s going to be boring, he should sing it fast. Shloime started to sing it in a silly voice and Danny told him to stop, but he didn’t so Danny pushed him and he fell back against the table, knocking over the Kiddush cup that had just been filled with wine. Mom went to get napkins while fighting back tears. Dad asked Danny a question he’d asked many times before, and he got the same answer.

Dad:   Danny, why did you do that?

Danny:   I don’t know.

Dad asked Danny a “why” question. Why questions seldom lead to good conversations, because they put the recipient of the question on the defensive. When you ask someone why they did something, they are expected to justify what they did.

There is nothing that Danny can say in response to his father’s question, “why did you do that?” that dad would consider a valid justification. The exchange is futile.

The exchange will go better when dad asks different types of questions instead of “why.”   And timing, the Mishna reminds us, is of the essence.

Rabbi Shimon ben Elazar taught: Al tiratzeh es chaveracha b’shaas kaasoh. Do not attempt to soothe someone when they are angry. (Avos 4:18) The Tiferes Yisroel warns us that attempting to help someone too soon not only will not help but will make things worse.

Here’s how dad can apply the Mishna in this situation. The next time that Danny pushes Shloime, dad would take a deep breath, remind himself that no one is in any danger, and say to Danny, “I don’t want you to push your brother. We’ll speak about it, IYH, Shabbos afternoon.”

During the Shabbos afternoon conversation, instead of asking “why,” dad will ask different questions that will be more helpful in reducing both dad’s and Danny’s frustrations, and in building their relationship.

G-d willing, next week we will discuss how to formulate and express these questions.

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman is a Licensed Mental Health Counselor with specialties in marriage, relationships, and parenting.  He works with parents and educators, and conducts parenting seminars for shuls and organizations. He can be reached at 718-344-6575.