When we open the door at the end of the Seder for Eliyahu to herald the redemption, the geula, for us here in Yerushalayim, in Eretz Yisrael, we merely look out the door at the real life unfolding of the geula — and we say Hallel differently.

But let me put that emotional statement in a framework of halacha. The opening of the door at the Seder is the pivot from past to future. 

The Seder tells the story of the redemption from Egypt. But while we view ourselves as if we were redeemed, for millennia we weren’t. Reciting a Haggada that speaks of a wondrous redemption while sitting in Vilna or Baghdad or Kiev (or even in America) is a reality that must have caused us to squirm a bit. It is the story of redemption said by the unredeemed.

Our Haggada confronts this dichotomy directly. We tell the story of leaving Egypt with drama and detail, while dropping hints that we could really use another redemption like that. 

We begin the Seder with hints of the absence of the Pesach. “Here is the bread of affliction. All who need, come in. This year here, next year in Eretz Yisrael.” This intro to the Seder can be understood as a statement of Hilchos Korban Pesach. When we had the korban Pesach, we had to be signed up before it was offered. You can’t show up at 7 pm and join the Seder unannounced. But today, with no korban Pesach, just matza, come on in. Next year we won’t be able to invite you in at the last moment, because we will be back in Eretz Yisrael, with the korban Pesach.

Wearing a kittel at the Seder is a hint to the special linen garments people wore when visiting the Mikdash (Netziv in his introduction to the Haggada). The washing of hands and dipping of karpas is a hint to a time of eating, “al taharas hakodesh,” with a heightened level of ritual purity. Eating matza and maror together like Hillel did is a reminder of the lack of the Mikdash. 

Ours is a Seder of redemption for the unredeemed.

And opening the door too. Rav Avigdor Nebenzahl in his Haggada gives a Hilchos Korban Pesach explanation to the door opening as well. Rav (Pesachim 85b) says that the upper floors and the rooves of Yerushalayim did not have the kedusha of Yerushalayim. Hence, the korban Pesach had to be eaten on the ground floor. Rav Nebenzahl suggests that once the korban Pesach was finished, the people would open the door and ascend to the roof for Hallel. There was limited ground-floor space in Yerushalayim, so people had to share the ground floor. To make room for the next shift, Hallel would be said on the roof. Rav says in the Gemara that the Hallel would crack the roof — either from the weight of so many people or figuratively from the loud Hallel, like we say, “raising the roof.”

But the completion of the korban Pesach was also the completion of the part of the Seder dealing with the past. The Hallel after the meal is the Hallel of the future. As the Rav pointed out (Festival of Freedom, p. 106), we don’t just wish for a future redemption, we are so sure that it will come that we say Hallel and are appreciative of that which has not yet occurred.

For us, opening our doors, moving from the story of the past, here in modern-day Yerushalayim — about to recite the Hallel of appreciation of the redemption yet to occur — we look out the door and we see buildings as far as the eye can see, with more being built. We look out over hundreds of thousands of Jews, spilling way, way beyond the confines of the walls of the Old City. A sprawling city, modern, comfortable, with parks for children, homes for the elderly, spreading out right and left, in a country of millions of Jews.

The Haggada speaks of the Yad Hashem, the Hand, plucking the Jews out of Egypt in one fell swoop, in one night, amid signs and wonders, 600,000 of fighting age, maybe 2 million in all. That is the redemption of the past.

And what will the redemption of the future look like? With Jews scattered to the four corners of the earth, I guess the Hand will be plucking them as He has been over the last few decades. Not in one fell swoop, but one by one. From the east, Iraq and Iran, from the north, Russia and Turkey, from the South, South Africa and Ethiopia, from the West, France, Germany, Poland and even the United States. Bit by bit, not in one night, but over time, 6 or 7 million will be brought back to their homeland.

The end of Hallel is appreciative of the future, while requesting redemption. We in Yerushalayim, who open our doors and gaze out, pivoting from the past to the present and to the future — we can walk out those doors and say Hallel on our roof tops, here in our city, in our land. And we can say Hallel of appreciation and of expectation with hearts that are full, bursting, having been plucked out of our own Egypts and placed here. What a privilege. 

Opening the door and looking out is my favorite moment of the Seder.