Everyone knows that Jewish tradition is to drink four cups of wine at the Passover Seder. Right?

Not so fast.

The ideal number of cups of wine might actually be five in all. I myself will drink a fifth cup of wine next week, as a symbol of the redemptive meaning of modern Israel. Please reflect on the significance of the additional drink and consider adding one yourself.

Like all spiritually alive rituals, the act of drinking wine on Passover night is not an arbitrary or rote behavior. These cups are laden with the poetry of the Exodus story and of Jewish symbols.

When do we drink the cups? What do they represent in Jewish law and tradition?

One cup is used for Kiddush, as the Seder begins. One accompanies the telling of the Haggadah. One is for the Birkat HaMazon, the grace after meals. Finally, the last accompanies the singing of Hallel after the meal; specifically this refers to “the Egyptian Hallel,” or Psalm 118, (“Min hametzar karati Yah”).

These obligatory four cups correspond to our four fore-mothers, the four letters of God’s name, four ancient exiles our people suffered (at the hands of Egypt, Babylon, Persia and Greece) or the four corners of the earth, from which our scattered brothers and sisters will gather, among other associations. The most important symbol for the cups . . . will be discussed below. Be patient.

In the meantime, note that the Mishna does not say that one must drink exactly four cups. It says one must drink “not less than four cups.” Public funds must provide that minimum even for the most indigent people.

Can you drink more than four? The usually authoritative 16th century code Shulhan Arukh (OH 481) rules that one must drink exactly four and not more. If you’re thirsty after the meal drink water. But scholars have shown that R. Yosef Karo possessed fragmentary versions of some source texts and based himself on faulty versions of the Talmud in other places (not so rare, for texts which circulated in manuscripts).

In fact, there was a widespread practice in the middle ages of drinking five cups at the Seder. In the 12th century, both Maimonides and his main adversary, R. Abraham b. David of Posquiers, among many other famous names [R. Itzhak Alfasi, Rosh, the Geonim], all drank five. The only ones who opposed this practice were the ever-influential Rashi and Tosafot, of Northern France, who stamped Ashkenazi practice.

What did this fifth cup mean to them? What should it mean to us?

The fifth cup was to accompany the “great hallel,” Psalm 136, (Ki Le’Olam Hasdo), the final part of the post-meal singing, constituting an extra measure of gratitude. Drinking the fifth cup was like saying: “Sure, we’ve given the baseline praise to God for liberating us from Egypt, but we’re not done! We want to exceed the minimum, with more psalms and more celebration!” That explanation is suggested by R. Tarfon in the Talmud, Pesachim 118a (not in today’s printed version, but in most medieval manuscripts, and those before the medieval authorities).

The most pervasive explanation for first four and then the fifth cups, however, comes from the four promises of salvation, which God proclaims to Moses in Exodus ch. 6. “I will take you out . . . and I will rescue you . . . and I will redeem you . . . and I will take you to be my people.” One cup for each of those mentions of divine salvation. However, that verse continues: “And I will bring you” to your homeland. Does that final redemptive promise deserves its own cup of wine? In a sense, it already has one: the Elijah cup, filled but not consumed, is a vestige of the practice of drinking this extra cup. Thanks to the dispute over the standing of this cup, the tradition split the difference: we place the fifth cup on the table, but await the Messianic harbinger to inform us whether to drink it. To those medieval sages who drank this final cup, it was an act of faith that they could savor a small foretaste of a future redemption. (So said the medieval Spanish sage, R. Joshua ibn Shuaib.)

In our own era, we need not rest content with a small foretaste. We have seen the promise of “I will bring you” fulfilled at last. A century ago, there were about 50,000 Jews in Israel, and 99 percent of world Jewry scattered throughout the world. Today, more than 5 million Jews live in our ancestral homeland, more than 40 percent of world Jewry. It took murder and dispossession to do it, to be sure, but in our own lifetimes, our brothers and sisters have streamed from Lithuania, France, Tunisia, India and anywhere else Jews lived, to build an astonishing modern country. We have reached the homeland.

Is it a perfect country? Definitely not. Like every other human creation, Israel has serious flaws. Many of those flaws can be blamed on our hostile neighbors. Others can be blamed on venal and foolish political leaders. Still others can be blamed on the misplaced fanaticism of certain corners in our people. Despite our problems, however, the modern State of Israel – built by those fleeing the destruction of European and Middle Eastern Jewry – remains perhaps the greatest achievement in our people’s history.

Given all Israel’s problems, maybe it is too early to call this promise fulfilled. We have plenty of trouble from those who make too much of Israel’s messianic significance. Maybe we’re better off thinking of Israel as purely secular, and not bringing it into our religious worship.

I disagree. The Exodus account teaches profoundly that redemption is not limited to what has already been perfected. Each and every step along the road towards destiny is itself a redemptive step. Israel was redeemed from Egypt only to march into a wilderness where they faced death by thirst, Amalek’s attack, fiery serpents, the temptations of idolatry. Even at the worst of these moments, we affirm that they indeed experienced God’s liberation at Egypt and at the Red Sea.

In our own lifetimes, our people has emerged from concentration camps and DP camps; we were driven out of Baghdad and Damascus; we journeyed to an unknown and underdeveloped country, and have built it up and been built up in the process. The journey is not over. The journey is sacred.

In our poverty, God remembered us, and rescued us from our troubles – ki le’Olam hasdo, God’s kindness endures eternally.

On Monday night, I will say those words from Psalm 136, and drink a fifth cup in celebration of our imperfect liberation.

-- Rabbi Jeremy Kalmanofsky

-- Rabbi Jeremy Kalmanofsky

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ME’AH: AN EXCITING OPPORTUNITY FOR LEARNING AT ANSCHE CHESED
Want to stretch your Jewish learning? Here is your chance. Beginning next fall, you and other community members can begin Me’ah, an intensive two-year course of Jewish study that has become the gold standard of Jewish adult education in America. Me’ah (meaning "100" -- that is 100 hours of study over two years) classes are taught by leading scholars, at the level they would teach their university classes. In about 20 weekly meetings per year, lasting 2 hours and 45 minutes each session, you will cover the major periods of Jewish history, thought and literature: Biblical, Rabbinic, Medieval and Modern. AC's Me’ah classes will be held Monday evenings, beginning after the holidays. Tuition is $950 per year (limited tuition assistance is available). For an application, please call 212.865.0600 ext. 205 or write meah@anschechesed.org. If you were unable to attend the information session and would like to learn more, Rabbi Kalmanofsky will be happy to answer your questions. Space is limited, so please reserve soon!

SAVE THE DATE! Mark your calendars now for a not-to-be-missed Artist-in-Residence Shabbat with Hazzan Dr. Ramon Tasat. Trained as a tenor vocalist and guitarist as well as arranger and choral conductor, Ramón sings in various languages, specializing in Sephardic music. The weekend will culminate in a Sunday concert.

In his youth, Professor Hillel was a founding member of Sde Boker in the Negev (a pioneering kibbutz that was later joined by David Ben Gurion, with whom Hillel developed a close personal relationship). He went on to a long career as head of soil and water sciences at the Hebrew University, as professor at the University of Massachusetts, as consultant to international agencies, and currently as senior research scientist at Goddard Institute for Space Studies at Columbia. He is the author of more than 20 books, most recently of the widely acclaimed The Natural History of the Bible: An Environmental Exploration of the Hebrew Scriptures (Columbia University Press, 2006).

YOUTH GROUP, GRADES 3-5
Join your friends and make new ones on a visit to Chelsea Piers for gymnastics and rock climbing on Sunday, April 29 from 3 to 6pm. Meet in the AC lobby with a MetroCard at 3pm sharp. $30 per child; financial assistance available. Space is limited for this fabulous program, so reservations and payment must be be received by Tuesday, April 17. Send to Lisa Adler at Ansche Chesed, 251 West 100th Street, NY, NY 10025. For more info, contact Lisa at lisa@anschechesed.org or 212.865.0600 ext. 243.

TODAH RABBAH TO MARCH'S SHELTER VOLUNTEERS
(Names in bold indicate AC members) Irwin Abraham, Trudy Balch, David Becker, Andrew Blank, Eliav Bock, Elizabeth Cavorti, Yehuda Charm, Janet Curley, Rafi Farber, Iris Fass, Matthew Feigin, Avi Green, Stephanie Gros, Marilyn Gunner, Kareen Halper, Yair Harel, Esther Hautzig, Erez Hoffman, Gary Kallman, Joy Karagu, Shlomy Kattan, Kehillat Hadar, KOE Minyan, JTS Students, Naomi Marcus, Jocelyn Maskow, Andy Menkis, Danny Messing, Linda Messing, Mike Patterson, Jennifer Raider, Anne Rudder, Shira Silton, Kate Sharp, David Tabatsky, Betsy Uhrman, Amanda Wolf, Shmuly Yanklowitz. And special thanks to Shelter Coordinator Charlie Davidson and Assistant Coordinator Michael Bloome.