This parshah serves as the Biblical source for three of the Four Sons of the Passover Seder, about whom the Haggadah states, “The Torah addresses four categories of children.”

First is the wise son, who is intelligent, knowledgeable, and thus G‑d-fearing.

Next is the wicked son. Although intelligent and knowledgeable, he does not practice Judaism. He challenges everything; he is rebellious.

Third is the simple son, who observes everything happening around him and innocently asks, “What is this?”

The fourth son is so unaware that he can’t even formulate a question, requiring us to reach out to him and provide information.

The Rebbe famously introduced an additional category, the “fifth son.” This is the child who doesn’t even attend the Seder; he simply doesn’t show up. At Seder time, he’s out surfing somewhere or climbing the Himalayas.

It was for these Jews that the Rebbe sent out his disciples all over the world: The individual who grew up Jewish but never attended a Seder; the former Israeli soldier backpacking through India; any Jew vacationing or touring anywhere in the world – suddenly they meet a chabadnik, a disciple of the Rebbe, and before they know it they’re at a Seder, maybe even at one of Chabad’s renowned “largest Seders in the world” with thousands in attendance.

We all have an obligation to reach out, not only to four sons attending the Seder, but also to the fifth son who doesn’t even show up. With love, and devoid of judgment, we must bring them in and reconnect them with their heritage.

Of Cups and Characters

In the mystical teachings of Rabbi Isaac Luria, the 16th century Kabbalist known as the Arizal, we find that the four cups of wine we drink at the Seder correspond to the four sons.

The first cup represents the wise son, the second the wicked son, the third the simple son, and the fourth the son who doesn’t even know how to ask.

Yet we see something quite interesting: the cup representing the wise son, despite being associated with such a pious character, receives very little attention. The first cup is used for Kiddush, and we typically complete that part of the Seder within the initial five minutes or so.

Similarly, the third cup, corresponding to the simple son, is used for Birkat Hamazon, the Grace After Meals, towards the end of the Seder. Again, this takes about five minutes. The fourth cup – representing the son who doesn’t know how to ask – is also used very briefly. With the fourth and final cup we recite the Hallel, then after a few more short passages, we announce, “Next year in Jerusalem!” and we’re done!

The vast majority of the Seder revolves around the second cup, which corresponds to the wicked son.

Why does the wicked son get so much attention? This kid is wicked, and he’s disrespectful! He says, “What is this service to you?” Not only is he confident that serving G‑d is not for him, he also challenges your obligation. Yet we spend the bulk of the Seder speaking to him. Isn’t that odd?

Furthermore, why are the four sons enumerated in the Torah in this particular order? One would think the order would be the wise son, the simple son, the son who doesn’t even know how to ask, and finally, the wicked son – a distant fourth. However, instead of being relegated to the last seat, the wicked son is given a prominent spot right next to the wise son. Why is that?

The answer to both of these questions lies in the Torah’s response to the wicked son.

We read in the Haggadah:

“The wicked son, what does he say? ‘What is this service to you?!’ He says ‘to you,’ but not to him! By thus excluding himself from the community, he has denied that which is fundamental. You, therefore, must blunt his teeth and say to him, ‘It is because of this that the L‑rd did for me when I left Egypt’; ‘for me’—but not for him! If he had been there, he would not have been redeemed!”

Is this the way to bring someone in? Can we bring a person closer to Judaism by telling them, “Had you been there, you would not have been redeemed”? That’s not very encouraging!

True, on its surface this may seem discouraging. But the underlying message being conveyed is just how fortunate he is that he lives today, in the post-Mount Sinai era. Because, this time, when Moshiach comes, every single Jew will be taken out of exile. Like the lyrics of the popular song, “No Jew will be left behind!”

This is in contrast to the Exodus from Egypt, when those unwilling to leave suffered the severest of consequences. The Midrash relates that 80 percent of the Israelites in Egypt died during the plague of darkness, because they were “wicked sons” who didn’t want to leave Egypt. G‑d obliged their wishes.

From Wicked to Wise

The Rebbe—building upon the teachings of his predecessor, the Sixth Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchok Schneersohn, whose yahrzeit we observe around this time of year—revolutionized Judaism’s approach to those who have strayed from their faith. Once upon a time, when Jews abandoned the practice of Judaism, they were shunned. They were ostracized. Their families cut off their connection to them.

Today’s “wicked son,” however, is not rebellious, teaches the Rebbe. Today’s lost children simply don’t know better because they were not given a proper Jewish education. Today, we don’t shun the wayward child–G‑d forbid!–but we open our arms and hearts to embrace and educate them. We must bring them into our homes, into our synagogues, and into our schools, and give them the education they missed out on.

That is why we seat the wicked son next to the wise son. Because all we need to do is educate him, embrace him, give him warmth, and make him feel special, and before you know it, he’ll be a wise son. We lovingly explain to him that he presents as a wicked son—due to a lack of education and through no fault of his own—yet he really is right on par with the wise son.

The Rebbe once shared with his father-in-law, the Previous Rebbe, that he overheard people being critical of his approach. They questioned why he showed so much love toward those who had abandoned Judaism. Instead of being harsh, why was he warm, embracing and accepting? Wasn’t this unfair to those who remained committed?

In response, the Previous Rebbe used an analogy: Suppose someone has many children and, G‑d forbid, one of them is health-challenged. With whom will the parents spend more time? Clearly, a disproportionate amount of time will be dedicated to the child who is not well.

This explains why the “wicked” son receives the majority of the attention at the Seder. This son needs to understand that he isn’t wicked at all, and that, with the right guidance and support, he could transform into a wise son in no time.