In framing the Pesach Seder, the Torah seems to try to capitalize on children’s natural curiosity. On this night we want to transmit much to the children, and the Chumash lays out the method by structuring the education around questions and answers: “When your child asks…” Chazal expand on this in several ways at the Seder, prescribing that we do some activities that promote the child’s curiosity in the first place. One example of this is the mitzva of karpas.

כִּי הֵיכִי דְּלֶיהְוֵי הֶיכֵּירָא לְתִינוֹקוֹת.

In order to be noticed by the children (to provoke them to ask about it).

Pesachim 114b

Although this is intended to get the children engaged in the proceedings, in some homes it has an opposite effect: the child might ask about karpas but get unsatisfying answers. The humorous response (and often the only answer that the parent has) is, “so that you should ask!” I suspect that this circular non-answer is the best parents can provide because over the years karpas has has lost its original meaning, or has accumulated a mélange of contradictory meanings, and it is now covered in a fog of confusion and mystery. 

Actually, it doesn’t take much to unravel the mystery, to reveal a very understandable practice that in the past was not given much explanation because little explanation was required. However, let us see what karpas has turned into first.

The Magen Avraham writes1 that the term “כרפס” is an anagram of “ס' פרך” meaning (60 [myriad] laboring), which presumably suggests that the karpas is intended to represent the enslavement of the Jewish People in Mitzrayim. Since elementary school teachers love wordplay to enrich students’ connections to unfamiliar terms, many teachers emphasize this comment of Magen Avraham, thus permanently associating slavery with the procedure.

Additionally, more sophisticated, creative explanations of the term karpas have been connected to the clothing of Yosef Hatzadik, which his brothers stripped from him when they plotted to kill him; this suggests that this step of the Seder is intended to acknowledge the roots of the subsequent enslavement.2

Many have the practice of dipping the karpas into saltwater.3 Saltwater has no apparent significance, so it would seem that if we combine the image presented by Magen Avraham with saltwater we can explain the saltwater as referring to the salty tears of the enslaved Jews.

We are told to be very careful to eat only a tiny quantity — one small bite only. Clearly this would seem to confirm the imagery of enslavement — lowest class, financial distress, insufficient food. The mystery of karpas seems to be now all consistent — it looks like we are dramatizing the terrible suffering of the Bnei Yisrael in Mitzrayim, from which Hashem saved us! This makes karpas almost the same as maror, which is explicitly described in the Hagada as having that meaning. For many, this is what karpas is all about.

The main difficulty is that there’s nothing about eating a bit of tasty food that conveys the image of slavery; so if Chazal were trying to evoke that image, they chose a poor method of doing so.4

We can see an alternative understanding of what Chazal intended in the practice of karpas by looking at it differently.

Although we refer to this procedure as karpas, the Talmud does not give it that name. It is not actually given any name. It is known simply as the “first dipping” (the second dipping is maror). The Talmud is clear that it involves vegetables and that we recite the appropriate bracha “Pri Ha’adama” on them. If no vegetables are available apart from maror, then use maror for this too. The word karpas makes its way into the hagadas during the Middle Ages, and the Maharil seems to be the first to refer to “כרפס” as the vegetable of choice.5 In Farsi (then as now) this is simply celery when pronounced “karafs.” (Check this yourself on Google Translate if you can read Farsi script.) This has nothing to do with the word “karpas” found in Megillat Esther, which refers to a kind of cloth or fabric. Clearly, whatever Chazal intended for this step did not have anything to do with the word “karpas.” 

Since this procedure is called a “dipping” in the Talmud, we would expect that it would be clear what dip we are using. However, the Talmud does not specify. Some Rishonim infer that since no specific dip is prescribed, then the only option is the one used for the “second dipping” — namely, charoset (which is what we dip maror into).6 Others infer that since no specific dip is prescribed, then any convenient liquidy sauce is intended, such as vinegar.7 This second opinion is the common practice, although the range of suggestions is broadened to include saltwater as another option. Presumably, saltwater can function as vinegar for these purposes. As much as tears seem to be salty, we are not expected to eat our vegetables in tears or with tears. The karpas is clearly intended to be a dip, but since Chazal didn’t specify whether there is anything significant about what we dip into, and as mentioned above, our practice is not to use charoset for karpas, we should be able to choose whatever we please. Since we are talking about celery or similar green vegetable or vegetables, like a salad, what would we choose to dip the salad in? In our world, we use salad dressing — which is some variant of vinegar, oil, salt, or other spice. In other words, when the Rishonim suggested vinegar or salt water, they were suggesting simple dressing, not because the dressing had some ritual significance, but exactly the reverse — because it didn’t have to be charoset, which does have ritual significance, so it could even be anything mundane, like vinegar (or even saltwater).

Why would Chazal prescribe eating a tiny quantity of vegetable? What does tininess represent? Unfortunately, this is a misunderstanding. Chazal never prescribed limiting the karpas at all. They intended that we eat as much as we want or as little as we want.8 If we eat the salad then Chazal expected that we would eat a sizeable amount; after all, it is an appetizer. Then why do we insist on eating no more than a tiny bit? This is because over the years a disagreement arose over the correct conclusion of karpas — must we recite a bracha achrona or not? On one hand, since we finished this course, then a bracha achrona is warranted. On the other hand, perhaps we need to keep the bracha rishona over karpas active until after eating maror, which will not get its own bracha rishona.9 Chazal intended one or the other of these practices, so they intended a full course for karpas and either we would recite the bracha achrona or we wouldn’t, depending on whom you ask. However, some Rishonim came to realize that by eating less than a kzayis we can bypass the question altogether and make everyone happy (except the participants at the Seder of course), because eating such a small quantity never necessitates reciting a bracha achrona but keeps the bracha rishona active.10 Keeping in mind that Chazal never intended to limit the karpas helps us acknowledge that perhaps we are intended to enjoy it.

It becomes clear that the karpas procedure is simply the appetizer course — the salad — and it is unusual because we normally wouldn’t serve the appetizer right away, or before the matza, or as a separate course — depending on the prevailing practices. So why are we doing it now? Because it emphasizes the luxurious results of the geula. It is the same type of practice as reclining. Because whether we indulge in this luxury the rest of the year or not, tonight we do because tonight we put on a show of rising to extreme heights of status — as a stark contrast to the conditions of slavery where we began our peoplehood.

A practical consequence of reframing the karpas as a display of freedom, rather than enslavement, is whether to recline while eating karpas. The intention of Chazal is that we recline for the foods that refer to our freedom (such as matza and wine), but not for those that refer to our enslavement (such as maror). Which of these is karpas? According to this understanding, this is like the first course of the meal, or even more demonstrative of freedom than the regular food of the meal, so reclining would be warranted.11 

When a child asks about the karpas, the answer should be informative and especially relevant to the beginning of the Seder. Since there are two overarching themes we highlight during the Seder — slavery and freedom — our answer will reflect one of those. If we take the position that karpas is like maror, then the answer is something like we were slaves in Mitzrayim,12 but it isn’t so clear why eating celery or vegetables represents that. However, if karpas is to express freedom, then we might say one of the few answers that the Bach provides.13 Perhaps we say: we have a first course just like the royalty do, because Hashem took us out of Mitzrayim and raised us to this level of status… or, we say this is so we don’t get too hungry because we have a lot to talk about because tonight is a big deal… or, he quotes from the Maharal that appetizers are common, so the children won’t necessarily be puzzled by it — but after having this salad course, the salad course after hamotzi (which is maror) will be the strange thing, so when we have the provisions for that already on the table it makes the child wonder what’s going on. 

Looking at what the Talmud describes for the early part of the Seder, we find the following picture: After Kiddush, we serve the vegetables in dip (karpas), even before the meal proper begins, to confuse the children and demonstrate that this night is different from ordinary nights. In case their curiosity is not sufficiently aroused, pour another kiddush cup of wine,14 and remove the food before eating the meal!15 All of this is expected to inspire the children to ask about the weirdness,16 and if all else fails, the Hagada explicitly spells out the Mah Nishtana to bring out all of this.

Endnotes

1. Shulchan Aruch 473:4, quoting the Maharil. Actually, the Maharil takes this wordplay seriously and defends his father’s practice of taking leek (כרתי) when celery was unavailable on the grounds that it is also known as a type of כרפס, according to one interpretation of Rashi, Succa 39b.

2. Rabbeinu Manoach on Rambam, Chametz Umatza 8:2; See also Torah To-Go, Pesach 2016, and 2018 (two essays).

3. This is mentioned as an option in various sources, mostly Ashkenazi ones.

4. Still, it seems that the Maharil did view karpas this way, and even finds another allusion to the enslavement in the karpas by noting that it resembles the straw to make bricks if it grows fully, although he does not mention tears or poverty.

5. In Seder R. Amram Gaon it appears fourth in a list of suggested vegetables; in R. Yosef Tuv Elem’s piyyut it appears second; in Machzor Vitri it is third out of five, but the label “karpas” is used for this step in the seder.

6. Rambam, Chametz Umatza 8:2; Machzor Vitri 69.

7. Rashbam, Tosfos 114a; Also Shulchan Aruch 473:6.

8. However, the Rambam does insist on at least a minimum of kzait like the other required foods.

9. See Beis Yosef 473, who infers this dispute from a dispute regarding whether the bracha over karpas covers the maror.

10. This is the policy described in the Shulchan Aruch.

11. Kaf Hachaim addresses this question and cites the various authorities on both sides of the issue. This depends on a bigger question actually — is reclining warranted when eating the meal? If not, then karpas likewise would not necessarily need reclining; if yes, then reclining for karpas would depend on how to view it. The Shulchan Aruch (472:7) recommends reclining for the whole meal.

12. This is what the Pri Chadash quotes from the Rokeach.

13. Siman 473 (See Torah To-Go, Pesach 2008)

14. Shulchan Aruch 473:7.

15. Pesachim 115b.

16. See Tosfos there who remarks that we are trying to get the children to ask about all the unusual things that happen at the Seder — the few contrived things that we do only serving to spark their questioning.