This is one of those special years when the first night of Passover, which was the setting for the Last Supper, is aligned with Good Friday. When this occurs, I always feel that it heightens the importance of the day, making it relevant and meaningful to a greater segment of society.
A Jewish mother has only one full-time job when Pesach (that’s what we call Passover) comes around. Pesach is unusual among the Jewish holidays in that it is celebrated around a dinner table over specially cooked foods rather than in a house of worship. (Technically this is not true, as the first two days are full-blown “holy days” on which very observant Jews also make an appearance at the synagogue.) The foods are specially engineered to preclude leavening and forbidden grains; as such this is a holiday with a flavor palate all its own. It takes a lot of shopping for special ingredients and a lot of cooking to prepare a meal that normally lasts about four hours. The Seder table in all its glory is the "dinner of the year"--the magnum opus of the traditional Jewish mother.
Everybody who has seen the Prince of Egypt or endured Sunday School (of any Judeo or Christian religious order) knows the story of the Exodus that is recounted at the Seder. But the beauty of Pesach transcends the knowledge that a compassionate and powerful God will smite those who dare to oppress us. The true lesson is one of tolerance: accept those who have different values, different customs, and different appearance. It is an ancient message, but one that is as relevant and meaningful today as it ever was.
I find it interesting that an interactive format such as a dinner table is the chosen venue for delivering this message. Most holiday messages are delivered declaratively in an auditorium format, a rabbi looming large over a flock of faceless congregants bolstered by the presence of the Torah scrolls. By contrast, during Pesach we are equals among men, women and children. We sit together at home where we are the most vulnerable and humble. There is no ordained leader; we each take turns telling the story and asking essential questions. Everyone is an equal and active participant.
This first-person experience is the key to Pesach. Throughout the Haggadah (the book of ordered activities and readings that forms the program for the Seder) we are encouraged to think of history as if it happened to us personally, identifying with being slaves, surviving oppression, and being lead to freedom through a parted sea. We talk of when “we” were slaves in Egypt. The tradition of sampling a variety of symbolic foods—horseradish, a course mixture called Haroset, matso—extends our first-person experience of bitterness, slavery, affliction, and the haste of the Exodus. The aim is not to distance ourselves from the pain until it becomes abstract; rather, we keep the wounds alive in order to participate in the unity of the Jewish experience.
This is not a holiday of rote chant and response. On Pesach, we ask existential questions and debate the responses. It is an occasion to think about where we have been and to appreciate what we have. Even as we celebrate our freedom (it is customary to recline at the table to signify our independence) we recognize its transience, forcing us to acknowledge that mankind is still a long way from embracing true freedom. Even as we mark our escape from our captors, we concede that it came at the expense of others. Our joy is further tempered by the reality that in today’s world, others continue to experience that which we fled. We use this experience and these teachings to be better men and women, better neighbors, and better citizens of the world.
Perhaps the most remarkable aspect of Pesach is this realization: that while we sit in our homes eating the traditional foods and discussing the events of the past, Jews across the globe are conducting reasonable approximations of the same Seder. Connected by these tastes, songs, and symbols, we form a human and spiritual chain that resonates from time zone to time zone. We celebrate the Seder for two nights to be certain that this wave of tempered celebration comes full circle around the globe. It says we are free, we are one, but most of all, we will continue to survive.
Tomorrow's blog: Yummy Decadence
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