Celebrating Passover
Q.
My family always “did” a Passover seder, and I remember really liking it as a kid. But as I get older, I’m less and less comfortable with the practice. I feel that the seder implicitly celebrates the torture that the Egyptians were subject to during the plagues. Modern times, in which we prize sensitivity toward the downtrodden and disadvantaged, call for a ritual that includes more awareness of, and compassion toward, the suffering of the Egyptian people. I would like to start a new seder tradition which features charitable giving toward embattled regimes, and celebrates freedom with activism on prison reform. Wouldn’t that be a more appropriate way to celebrate?
A.
I have to commend your passion for activism, and I completely relate to your desire to personalize the Seder experience to suit modern life. Passover is, indeed, a time to celebrate our national freedom and it feels incomplete to do so without also thinking about those who don’t have that luxury.
That said, I think the term “celebrate” here might need some clarification. Since “celebrate” usually connotes a happy event, and we are, in fact, happy about our nation’s exodus from the extreme suffering in Egypt, it’s easy to assume that we’re also “celebrating” the downfall of the Egyptian people. But it’s not so simple.
Like we’ve talked about in past conversations, Jewish holidays are not meant to be mere commemorations but opportunities to engage with some spiritual energy in an experiential way. The Pesach seder is no exception -- in fact, it’s one of the most uniquely experiential holiday observances in the Jewish tradition. We use all kinds of props and rituals to help us really sink into the narrative of the exodus, such as giving a full historical context of how our nation got to that point, eating foods that give us a real sensory experience, talking about Jewish personalities that really tapped into the power of the day, and delving deeply into the reasoning behind all of the above. And it’s all for one purpose: so that we should not just “remember” or “commemorate” our national freedom, but actually experience it ourselves even today.
It makes you wonder why freedom is such an important thing to feel, that there are so many mitzvot devoted to guiding us to tap into it. But when you think about it you realize it’s incredibly fundamental to the Jewish experience. There are all kinds of things that hold us back from the incredible moral, ethical and personal heights that we’re capable of reaching. We’re afraid of what people might think or say, we’re afraid of being scorned, we’re afraid of losing business, we’re afraid that we’re too hardwired to really change. We’re afraid we’ll sap our energy if we continue giving, we’re afraid we don’t have what it takes to succeed. In order to stretch ourselves and grow the way we want to, we need to know, first and foremost, that we can. We need to feel that we’re free to become anything we want to. Otherwise we’re just slaves to our own egos.
What we tap into on the Seder night is the realization that nothing is truly impossible. The miraculous, unbelievable salvation of the Jewish people shook the whole world. Even if we don’t experience the open miracles they did, our ancestors’ experiences teach us one thing: God is limitless. And even in modern times where we don’t see it openly like they did, there’s one place where we can still see open miracles anytime we want: within ourselves. Being made in the “likeness” of God means that He crafted us, man, with an element that is just like Him. Our souls are a piece of the Divine! And so the same way that God is limitless, our souls are limitless. Just as God is free to make choices, we are also free to make choices. Obviously, not just any choice. We encounter our physical limitations every day, on a constant basis: no, we can’t see through walls; no, we can’t just get out of the car and fly over the traffic jam to make it to work on time; no, we can’t snap our fingers to have the dishes washed effortlessly; no, we can’t wave magic wands like Harry Potter to summon things from across the room (much to my kids’ sorrow).
But there are incredible, unbelievable, miraculous things that we can do. We can delay gratification, we can mend another’s heart with our words, we can act in ways that counter our survival instinct, we can overcome our needs to put others first. We can become more patient, more selfless, more disciplined. It’s the internal, personal equivalent of moving mountains. And our potential in those areas are truly limitless. Just as God is free to choose, so are we.
However, we can’t even begin to change if we aren’t aware of our potential. We can’t grow quite as profoundly if it’s coming from a place of “I must change because x trait is ruining my marriage” or “I have to give of myself because my role demands it” rather than “I can change because I have something within me that’s bigger than my limitations” and “I have so much to give because I have infinite depth and potential that’s waiting to be tapped into.” Potential is power. And we are bursting with potential. When we know that, we can fly.
The experience and celebration of freedom on Passover is not just a political one. It’s a personal, individual one. It’s a time we can utilize to remember how much we have within us to give, how much greatness is in our reach.
In that context it becomes clear that the suffering of the Egyptians is not anywhere in our celebration. In fact, one of the seder rituals involves spilling some wine out of our cups while reciting the names of the plagues, specifically because the Eyptian suffering should lessen our joy, even mid-celebration. And, complex human beings that we are, we are capable of holding that sorrow within our incredible joy.
Yes, charitable giving and activism are super important expressions of your very compassionate heart. But don’t forget to utilize the Seder night to tap into your personal freedom, your potential for greatness. See how much further that will take you!