Reflections on Passover – 5786

The holiday of liberation.  It’s spring – and this season of renewal brings Passover, hag ha-aviv.   It’s a holiday of hope and rebirth. We know it, too, as zman heirutainu, the season of our liberation, because its central message is our redemption from slavery. Passover reminds us that no matter what our situation, there is hope for redemption. With this, I share some observations on a few of my favorite aspects of Pesach, which for me along with countless others, is the most enjoyable holiday in the Jewish year.

Our story; the seder.  The story of our exodus from bondage in Egypt is well known. But the genius of Passover is the timelessness and timeliness of the story, which we retell at the seder, in a ritual framework designed to highlight the character of Jewish memory. We encourage discussion about the story of liberation and how we live today.  We start the seder by remembering the events of the past; this helps us understand the possibilities of the present, particularly the unfinished work of liberating all who are still oppressed. Just as God redeemed our ancestors in Egypt – our job is to ask, “What changes should we work for in the world when we leave the seder table?”

No one who has ever sat at a seder table can forget the experience, which by many accounts is the oldest surviving ritual in the Western world. We sit around the table, surrounded by ritual symbols and the text of the Haggadah. And we discuss, question and learn how and why we observe the holiday. The seder invites us to ask questions, and makes it possible to engage and explore in a way that is rare in any other setting.   We all own the story. Each generation reshapes it and passes it forward. And the story of liberation stays relevant and alive.

Matzo: the bread of affliction.  Early in the seder we recite a paragraph which begins with the words “Ha Lachma.”  It says:  “This is the bread of affliction that our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt. Let all who are hungry come and eat.  This year we are here. Next year may we be in the land of Israel. This year we are slaves. Next year may we be free.”    The message is a compelling one: throughout the seder, we discuss, question, debate and enjoy our meal, but above all, we resolve to take action to feed the hungry and care for those in need, because when one person is enslaved, no one is truly liberated.   Look closely at the text and you’ll see that God isn’t mentioned in Ha Lachma. The rabbis who put the Haggadah together wanted to remind us that it is up to us to take action before redemption can take place.   Everyone who has freedom is responsible to redeem those who aren’t free.

Ma Nishtana:  Perhaps the most beloved centerpiece of the seder is the Ma Nishtana, the Four Questions, traditionally asked by the youngest person who asks four variations on “why is this night different?”  This provokes children and adults to engage, ask harder questions and seek understanding. The expectation of questioning is as old as our origins.  We read in Exodus 13:14, “When in time, your son asks you, ‘What does this mean?’ you will tell him, ‘It was with a mighty hand that the Lord brought us out from Egypt, the house of bondage.’”

The seder exemplifies how we learn. We don’t learn alone; we learn as a community, and the more we question and challenge, the better we can confront what we face.  Sitting around the seder table is a master class in how this is done.

The four sons.  The seder doesn’t sugarcoat history or human nature. For example, the Haggadah tells of the four sons:  when we’re honest with ourselves, we can recognize part of ourselves in the description of each.  At one time or another, each of us can be wise, insolent or naïve, or maybe lacking sufficient knowledge to even know how or what to ask.  Sometimes we want to know every detail of what’s happening; sometimes we’re lost and distracted. Sometimes we might not connect with what’s happening, don’t seek knowledge, but just want to eat.  It’s our obligation to understand the person we wish to connect with and meet them where they are.

We were slaves; we were strangers.  In the seder, we’re in a moment when we reflect on our identity, how we see ourselves, how we conduct ourselves and treat others.  When we say, “We were slaves; we were strangers” we remember the commands of Exodus 22:20 , “You shall not wrong a stranger or oppress him, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” This is a recurring theme of biblical literature.  It’s no accident that the Torah admonishes us about the treatment of strangers no fewer than 36 times, one of the clearest expressions being in Exodus 23:9: “You shall not oppress a stranger, for you know the feelings of the stranger, having yourselves been strangers in the Land of Egypt.” No other commandment is repeated so often.

Next year in Jerusalem.  The seder begins and ends with the hope that next year we will all be free and in Jerusalem. Some view this literally, but for many Jerusalem symbolizes our personal and national fulfillment, and our hope next year to be in a place where there is joy, peace, redemption, and a commitment to build a better world.  The ritual of the seder ends, but we are now directed to do something harder:  to begin the work of redemption, making the world a better place.

To all:  Chag Sameach. Have a wonderful Passover. Enjoy your seder and family tradtions.  A zisn, koshern un freilikhen Pesach!    Stay healthy and strong.  Zeit gezunt un shtark.

On behalf of the TBH-BA ritual committee,

Stephen Freed