The Jewish festival of Passover begins this year on the evening of April 22. We will gather to celebrate the miraculous redemption of our people from the oppression of mind and body that is described in the biblical story of the Exodus.
In this time of war and conflict, foremost in our minds and heavy on hearts is the knowledge that not all people are free, and that the liberation of the past was incomplete. People of faith and conscience must seek to rise to the challenge of bringing freedom, healing and blessing to all who dwell on earth.
We who have experienced intolerance, bigotry, virulent hatred, throughout our history continue to see and feel the ugly tides of antisemitism that rise and fall in a never-ending cycle of violence and intolerance. We pray that our people’s times of suffering have sensitized us to the pain of others. Our tradition demands that we show compassion and act with empathy even towards those who seek to do us harm, even when we confront enemies sworn to seek our destruction. A ritual at the Seder meal is meant to express this lesson: When we sit before our brimming cups of wine, we recite the names of the 10 plagues that were visited upon the Egyptians before Pharaoh finally allowed our people to depart. As we recite the names of each of the terrible afflictions, Blood, Cattle Disease, and finally the Death of the Firstborn, we dip a finger into the cup and remove a single drop of sweet wine for each of the plagues. Symbolically, we diminish our happiness as we reflect on the suffering of our ancient enemies. Other aspects of our observance add emphasis to this tradition.
There is a good reason that the home seder is the most widely observed Jewish ritual. It engages all of the senses, with wonderful food, light, sound, aromas and even unusual textures — matzo and gefilte fish and bitter herbs. The ceremony text engages us with humor and song and serious reflection: there is room for both familiar liturgy and for spontaneous expression. As we are ensconced in intimate settings with family and friends, we are also encouraged to invite strangers and guests, real and imagined, to join in our celebration.
The Seder is the quintessential intergenerational program, the original “simulation” that seeks to provide an immersive experience for those who participate — as they are encouraged to consider themselves personally to have fled from Egypt to Freedom at the parting of the Red Sea. The questions begin with a starter prompt which has become one of the most beloved elements of the Passover Seder — the recitation of the Four Questions. This part of the seder exemplifies what is best about the ritual, in that it engages people of all ages, young and old. Traditionally, the youngest child who is able to chant or read is assigned the great honor and responsibility of asking the questions, which are then answered by the adults — by all of the seder participants. Adults can learn a lesson from the way children focus on small changes in their routines. If we are attentive, the seder meal may open a door — not only for Elijah, but for all of us to pay attention to the small changes in our lives, to what is different in our feelings, our appearance, our families, our friendships. The seder is a time to reflect on the small miracles that make up the bigger miracle of our having survived to celebrate yet another festival together.
Perhaps the Seder meal may serve as a metaphor, for Jews and others, for our personal and communal journeys, our search for meaning, purpose and ultimately, redemption. I believe that the best approach to creating a meaningful seder is to be willing to ask our own questions — and to discover our own answers as well. I often say that Judaism cannot claim to have all the answers to the questions we bring to the table. However, we do have great ways of asking the most important questions about life and meaning, about spiritual matters and how to be a good human being. And we must not underestimate the value of having a community of people devoted to formulating and addressing these questions and adapting them to our time and needs. The Seder is a microcosm of the entire enterprise of seeking meaning — in tradition, in community, in personal commitment, growth, and collaboration with and service to others. And as we go forward on our journeys of redemption, as we seek greater freedom from all that oppresses us, may be bring others along that path with us as well.
Wishing all a sweet season and may we bring more Shalom — wholeness, healing and deep meaning — to the world around us.
The Rabbi David Kudan leads Temple Ahavat Achim on Middle Street in downtown Gloucester. The Midweek Musings column rotates among Cape Ann clergy.