This ‘Fifth Son’ Knows Exactly What the Seder Is

Recently, I connected with someone who grew up in a Chabad family and attended Yeshiva but had distanced himself from observance. Despite knowing niggunim and most Chassidic concepts, he is still ‘Son 5.1’ – the fifth son who knows about Pesach but feels too uncomfortable to attend.

By Josh Wonder – Melbourne, Australia

Every year, we sit by our Seder tables and read in the Haggadah about the Four Sons – the wise, the wicked, the simpleton, and the one who doesn’t know how to ask. As Lubavitchers, we also speak about the ‘fifth son,’ a concept popularized by a landmark pre-Pesach letter sent by the Rebbe on 11th Nissan, 5717 (April 12, 1957). In this letter, the Rebbe reframes the core purpose of the Seder: to find and invite ‘the fifth son’—any Jewish person who is conspicuous by their absence from the Seder, someone who doesn’t know about Pesach or how to celebrate it.

Over the years, this concept has inspired thousands of public Sedarim worldwide and motivated countless families to seek out those who might not have a Seder to attend or would otherwise not celebrate Pesach, filling that empty seat at the table. Notably, the Rebbe encouraged us to work with the fifth son until he can eventually be elevated to the rank of the “wise” son.

However, I’d like to address a sore spot in our community—a problem we know exists but often fail to confront. A few months ago, I connected with someone who used to be part of our community. He grew up in a Chabad family, attended Yeshiva, but had long since distanced himself from observance and chosen a different way of life. He is not someone I would classify as the fifth son who doesn’t know about Pesach—after all, we sat together, sang a niggun, and he remembered it perfectly. He can quote Chassidic concepts, correct you on Halacha, and even recite Mishnayos he memorized in Grade 5. Yet, he is still ‘conspicuous by his absence from the Seder service.’ He is ‘Son 5.1’—the fifth son who knows exactly what the Seder is, but is absent because it feels too uncomfortable for him to be there.

As we spoke, I asked him why he left our community. I expected philosophical arguments, a debate about G-d or the divinity of the Torah. His answer? “I didn’t have any friends. I was a little different, not socially accepted, and I was ignored. Invisible. I was lonely and no one included me.”

I was floored. Here I was, ready to “inspire” him from my high-and-mighty position, and I realized it wasn’t he who had it wrong—it was us. Every time I encourage my children to be part of the “right” social group, every time I perpetuate a cliquey feeling with my friends, I am causing this. I’m proud of my children when they go on Mivtzoim, but do I encourage them to befriend the kid who has different interests and fewer friends? Do I model that enough for them? Sure, when I put tefillin on someone I meet, I’m quick to snap a photo and share it. But am I proud when I give my time to someone in our community who could benefit from a quick “Good Shabbos” or an invitation to my Shabbos table?

I don’t believe this young man was alone in his experience. While a person’s journey isn’t always simple and there are layers of reasons why someone may distance themselves from the community, social exclusion and loneliness are factors we can influence.

The Rebbe’s letter speaks about taking the fifth son and working with him until he is not only included in the community of the “Four Sons” but is elevated to the rank of the “Wise” son. It’s worth noting that Son 5.1 may not exactly fit the Rebbe’s original concept, but the needs are similar. Son 5.1 still needs love and inclusion. He needs to feel like he belongs.

The Rebbe reminds us in his letter that there is no room for hopelessness in Jewish life, and no Jew should ever be written off as a lost cause. Through a compassionate approach of Ahavas Yisroel, even those who seem “lost” can be brought back to the love of G-d and Torah.

For Son 5.1, there are two things we need to consider. First, we need to reach out to him before he feels alienated or excluded. Son 5.1 may still attend the Seder with his family, but the ongoing feelings of social exclusion may one day drive him to seek acceptance elsewhere, in circles that are more flexible and less judgmental. Second, for Son 5.1, an extra measure of love and care is needed to heal the wounds caused by exclusion. Unfortunately, even with this, nothing is guaranteed.

The theme of Pesach is that we were once lost in Mitzrayim, a foreign people in a foreign land, and G-d saw our plight and rescued us. We need to recognize that the gap between the Four Sons and the Fifth Son is much smaller than we think. Many of us have experienced moments of isolation, of not being accepted or made to feel different. That was us in Mitzrayim, and we needed someone to show us love and bring us home. So, we can take this opportunity and show love and care for others now, even before they become ‘fifth sons.’

We are making progress in being more inclusive—certainly far better than when I was a child—but there’s still more to be done. We need to discourage our children from forming exclusive social cliques. It’s fine to have close friends, but when others feel excluded, that’s where we can make a difference. Let’s encourage our children to be more open, to extend their circle and plans to include others who may feel left out. Our children instinctively know who feels on the outside, and we can set a positive example by extending invitations and socializing with a more diverse group of people.

Chassidus teaches that when we recognize the intrinsic value of a person—when we see beyond their external traits—we’re also recognizing our own true selves. By acting kindly towards others, we elevate ourselves in the process.

As the Rebbe concludes in the letter, “May G-d grant that all sons and daughters of Israel be gathered together at the same table of the Seder service, to celebrate the Festival of Passover in its true spirit and manner.”

Reprinted from the Young Yeshiva Magazine with permission

Discussion

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  1. I grew up in CH and watched hundreds of kids leave the path. I spoke to many of them and I too was once heading in that direction. Out of all of them only one claimed to have left because of “philosophical” reason. A few left because they had a certain yetzer harah… most left due to mistreatment of some kind. Chabad as a community could be super loving to the “frai” but often very harsh to theirown who don’t fit their expected mold. The very fact that the author assumed that a Chabadnik left because of “philosophical” reason proves how out of touch with this reality they are. I am glad someone was able to teach them this important lesson.

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