Why Don't We Just Tell the Story?

For years now, I've been wondering why we don't actually read over the Exodus story at the Seder, considering that this is the essential act of the night?

Why instead do we get the story piecemeal throughout the first part of the Haggada, in fragments, interspersed with all kinds of other random paragraphs containing other things (rabbis sitting in Bnei Brak, four children, ma nishtana etc) which, though interesting, are not the actual story? It's true that the Hagaddah may well be "the story about the story",  or "instructions to tell the story" which is very nice - but what happened to the story itself?

Good questions are like fine wine, they improve with age, they sit and stew until something emerges. 

This year I did my Seder alone due to the coronavirus, so I had the time and possibility to insert whatever I liked into the Seder ritual.  I told myself aloud the story of the Exodus, to see how it felt to do so (it felt ok, but a bit bare). Afterwards, as I was reading the Haggada, I noticed with greater clarity the pieces of the story that do appear, scattered throughout. 

And a sudden insight arose for me. Our life stories do not come linearly and clearly, with each day building upon the previous one in a way where we see how it fits in. Instead, our narratives develop in a windy and unclear way, with detours, seemingly irrelevant passages, obscure incidents. It is only when we look back from much further down the line that we can actually make our story coherent, and tell it in a way that it has a start and a middle (and perhaps an end.)

Right now, for example, we are in the middle of the coronavirus story. We are able to tell the beginning, but as we are still very much in the middle, we only have access to fragments of the ongoing plot, and certainly no clue about the end.

The Haggada is a reflection of the messiness of how our stories develop. As such, it holds a more profound message than a straight up story told directly would.

So I FINALLY have an answer that speaks to me. Ahh, that feels good.