Thoughts for The Seder This Year

Seeing Ourselves in Captivity

Every year on Passover we are told to see ourselves as if we were the ones coming out of Egypt. Most of the time we are imagining, or trying to imagine, what slavery was for our people thousands of years ago.  This year, at seder tables around the world, the image will be more immediate.  Hundreds were taken hostage in Gaza on October 7th and, achingly, we do not even know how many remain alive in their captivity or their state of wellbeing in mind or body.  They are as if they were slaves.  What would it mean to think of myself in that place at this time? To not need matza to remind me of what the bread of affliction is like or maror to summon a feeling of bitterness? To have no need of four questions because this night has been the same as all other nights?  To have no door to open for Elijah?

One way to remind ourselves to think about these questions is to set a chair to represent those who can't have a seder themselves.  Place a haggadah on the chair and, if there are kids or others who like art, make a big picture or card to represent our wishes for the hostages and their families and put it on the seat along with any symbols, bracelets or flags. 

However we recall the hostages this year, may they be released immediately and returned in wellbeing of body and soul and may all who hunger for safety, dignity and an end to bloodshed be made free.

First, Come and Eat

The telling of the story of freedom from Egyptian slavery begins with a two-part call to those in need: All who are hungry, let them come and eat! All who lack let them come and partake of the Pesach offering.  The first part aims at our physical hunger while the second the need to feed the soul. On this night though isn’t the primary commandment one that is of soul more than body.  We eat, yes, but the most important foods are eaten to remind us of deep symbolism and to tell a story that transcends what we do with our bodies. Our table should always be open to those in need but why elevate that everyday concern over the one that this night is all about?  It is precisely these questions that necessitate having “All who are hungry come and eat” said explicitly.  Otherwise in our pious desire to be leave the pleasures of the meal aside to focus on the Passover symbols and themes, we could forget that not worrying about food for ourselves is a luxury while not worrying about food for others is unjust. In the words attributed to Rabbi Israel Salanter, “the material needs of the other are my own spiritual needs.”  Only when we recognize the need for others to be fed can we partake in our own soulful Passover experience, let alone invite others to join us in celebrating our freedom.

Talking to Ourselves

The four questions being asked by the youngest child at the seder is a staple of our Seder images.  With puppets or skits, whether the youngest is 6 or 16 the idea that the questions are asked by the youngest endures.  The verses in the Torah enforce the idea that a key part of the seder will be questions that “your child” will ask in days to come and the telling will be to the next generation.  What’s interesting is that in the Talmud it makes clear that if there are no attendees from a younger generation the questions are not skipped. In fact even if every person around the table is quite learned they are asked. Or if there are just two people they too say to each other mah nishtana halila hazeh, what a different night this is!  The last scenario takes it to its logical conclusion: if there is only one person that person asks themselves the four questions.  Now we see that the assumption that this story is only, or even primarily, about passing down the legacy is incomplete,  The essence of the story is one every single person must not only hear, but connect to.  Even if it means talking to yourself.