Today is Shabbat Hagadol, one of only two times a year where the rabbi would traditionally give a sermon. Today I am not. You will create it yourselves. Eventually. After you prepare. Because that is why the rabbi would give a sermon on Shabbat HaGadol, so that you would have all the knowledge, tools, abilities to prepare for Passover correctly. So you could find the chamatz in your house. So you could be ready for Passover. It can be physically demanding and technically complex. But what if it is not.
Based on the recent Torah portions, we’ve talked a lot in the last few weeks about being ready. Being ritually ready. In a state of ritual purity. Today’s Torah portion continues that theme. It is about how to purify the sanctuary after the death of Aaron’s sons (at first I wrote sins and maybe that was not a typo!) Later about the two goats of atonement for Yom Kippur. It is about all of the sexual sins. Who may sleep with whom. And who may not. Traditionally this portion is also read on Yom Kippur. Like many Reform and Conservative shuls we don’t read it here. We read the alternative reading, the Holiness Code. About the ways we should behave. About loving our neighbor, our friend as ourselves.
Already I have answered questions this year about how to prepare physically: how to kasher a keurig, a dishwasher and a stand mixer. Whether the bottled water is kosher. What about pine nuts and quinoa? What about kitinyot? It makes me feel like the wise child. And these are indeed important questions. If there are more of those, I am happy to answer them. If I can’t there is this wonderful book 1001 Answers and Questions for Passover. See you are not alone.
Today we are going to prepare for Passover another way. Not by searching for chametz under the refrigerator (I’ll probably still do that tonight) but by searching for spiritual chametz, by preparing our hearts to leave the narrow places, to exit Egypt.
I, too, am a lifelong learner. I come by it naturally. My father’s definition of a Jew is someone who questions, thinks and argues. So what are the big questions of Passover? What are the questions that never get asked? Why is this day different from the others?
The first question I became aware of…when do we eat? We have solved in our house by adding a platter of vegetables after karpas, the parsley, and letting people nosh during the rest of the service. I thought this was brilliant all on its own. A modern day solution. But in reading Sacred Trash, I learned, it was common in the 2nd Century and spelled out in one of the Haggadot that were unearthed in the Cairo Geniza.
The second question of my year, sitting at the Chicago Board of Rabbis meeting I heard a verse we all know with new ears: “So the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with great terror and with signs and wonders.” Deuteronomy 26. I had always heard the translation “awesome power.” What, then, is the difference between awesome power and great terror? What were the implications for the Israelites? What about us today?
The third question ties in nicely with today’s Torah portion. Why is there charoset on the seder plate? Think about it. We tell the kids it is to represent the mortar or the bricks that the Israelites used to build the pyramids. But other than using it for the Hillel sandwich, traditionally we don’t tell the meaning of the charoset at the seder itself. Why? Rabbi Arthur Waskow has an interesting answer….perhaps you caught it on Huffington Post this week. He describes it as the R-rated answer. We’ve explained the oral tradition (How fitting for something that tastes so delicious, he adds). He says that charoset is a full-bodied, full tongued, “Kisses sweeter than wine” taste of mouth. At first I thought he was dating himself with the reference to the song. But that song is even older than the Weavers song. It goes back to the Song of Songs which we read next Shabbat and is precisely his point. Song of Songs, that most racy of Biblical books, provides the recipe for charoset. Here are his proof texts from the Song:
“Feed me with apples and with raisin-cakes”
“Your kisses are sweeter than wine.”
“The scent of your breath is like apricots”
“Your cheeks are a bed of spices”
“The fig tree has ripened”
He concludes that Passover is about freedom. Included in that freedom to love. He gives a recipe, well sort of a recipe. Because he says that love is freeform and that the book itself says, “Do not stir up love until it pleases.” Keep urges us to keep tasting the charoset until it pleases. Or makes us giddy. That’s the idea. Love and freedom should make us giddy. So enjoy. Don’t worry about the chamatz so much. This is about freedom. For me this was a thrilling midrash. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/rabbi-arthur-waskow/innermost-secret-of-passover-seder-charoset_b_5111719.html
The fourth question came from attending the Chicago Board of Rabbis meeting. Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg who was at Tufts Hillel and then Northwestern, is now working for Hillel International. They have a project called, askbigquestions.org. They distinguish between big questions and hard questions and they are ways to engage students on campus and the rest of us in ways that are meaningful. Hard questions require real knowledge and emphasize intelligence. They are best answered by experts. They might use technical language. They can be directed at an object. They close space and lead people to feel like spectators. The answers can be debated, argued. They lead to an either/or approach. Big questions are ones anyone can answer. They focus on wisdom and experience. They use plain language. They invite personal story telling. So in order to really prepare for Passover. To really feel as those we are each exiting Egypt, standing at the shores of the Sea of Reeds, wandering in the desert and standing at Sinai, we are going to ask the Big Questions. Divide yourselves into four groups.
Here are the questions:
When have you not been free?
When have you become free?
What are you thankful for?
For whom are you responsible?
And like there is a fifth cup of wine…there is a fifth question.
What now?
QUESTION 1: WHEN HAVE YOU NOT BEEN FREE?
The traditional Haggadah offers several ways of thinking about what it means not to be free. “We were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt” is one way. “Our ancestors worshipped idols” is another. “An Aramean sought to destroy my father” is a third. In the first approach, the lack of freedom can be understood mainly as political: a slave isn’t free to make his/her own decisions, to own property, to live the way they want. In the second approach, the lack of freedom comes in not having spiritual freedom, of living in the service of false ideals. In the third, an outside oppressive force causes a loss of freedom.
Below are some images that reflect each of these approaches. Take a look at them and take some time to reflect on them. As you do, consider a couple of questions:
- Is there a difference between these different approaches to understanding a lack of freedom?
- When in your own life have you not been free? Does it follow any of these approaches?
QUESTION 2: WHEN HAVE YOU BECOME FREE?
The Haggadah tells the story of the Israelites’ exodus from Egypt using the following passage from the book of Deuteronomy (ch. 26):
5 My ancestor was a wandering Aramean. He went down into Egypt with a few people and lived there and became a great nation, powerful and numerous.
6 But the Egyptians mistreated us and made us suffer, subjecting us to harsh labor.
7 Then we cried out to the Lord, the God of our ancestors, and the Lord heard our voice and saw our misery, toil and oppression. 8 So the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with great terror and with signs and wonders.
9 The Lord brought us to this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey.
As you read this passage, here are some questions to consider:
- Why do verses 6 and 7 use several words to describe what the Egyptians did to the Israelites?
- In verse 8, why are there multiple words used to describe what God did for the people to liberate them?
- Why is verse 9 a part of the story? Would it be enough to conclude with verse 8?
- Have you ever been set free, or freed someone else? How did it happen?
QUESTION 3: WHAT ARE YOU THANKFUL FOR?
When the ancient Israelites realized they were free, the Torah recounts that they sang out by the shores of the Red Sea. Since that time, Jewish tradition has made singing a basic way of showing gratitude for freedom. In more recent times, singer- songwriter Natalie Merchant created a song called Kind and Generous. (You can listen to the song and see the video at alturl.com/7tpjg.] Here are some of the lyrics:
You’ve been so kind and generous
I don’t know why you keep on giving
For your kindness I’m in debt to you
For your selflessness—my admiration
For everything you’ve done
You know I’m bound—I’m bound to thank you for it
You’ve been so kind and generous
I don’t know why you keep on giving
For your kindness I’m in debt to you
And I never could have gone this far without you For everything you’ve done
You know I’m bound—I’m bound to thank you for it
Oh I want to thank you for so many gifts
You gave me love and tenderness
I want to thank you
I want to thank you for your generosity,
The love, and the honesty that you gave to me I want to thank you, show my gratitude,
My love and my respect for you
I want to thank you
Oh, I want to thank you, thank you, Thank you, thank you…
Lots of thank-yous! As you listen to the song, here are some questions to think about:
- What do you think Natalie Merchant is so thankful for?
- What do you think she means when she sings, “For your kindness I’m in debt to you / And I never could have gone this far without you / For everything you’ve done / You know I’m bound–I’m bound to thank you for it”? Why is she in debt? Why is she bound? Who is she bound to?
- Have you ever experienced gratitude on this level?
- What are you thankful for right now? To whom are you grateful for your freedom?
QUESTION 4: FOR WHOM ARE WE RESPONSIBLE?
The seder doesn’t end with the meal. It ultimately takes us from looking at our own enslavement and liberation to expressing thanks and looking outward. By the end of the seder, we should be asking this fourth question: For whom are we responsible? How do we act on our freedom and bring freedom to the lives of others?
Below is a story by Rabbi Herbert Friedman, an American Reform rabbi who died in 2008. Friedman grew up during the Great Depression. His family was poor. One night, his mother attended a meeting of her synagogue sisterhood, where a representative of the U.S. National Refugee Service made an urgent plea for Jewish families to “take into their homes German-Jewish children whose parents were willing to let them emigrate to the United States, not knowing if they would ever see those children again.” Here is the rest of the story:
Of the more than 100 women assembled, all mothers, no more than a dozen raised their hand. My mother stood and announced that she would take three children. God has been good to her, she said, giving her three healthy sons; this was her opportunity to repay. She added without embarrassment that her family was living in a small apartment, with only two bedrooms, because their house had been foreclosed by the bank during the Depression. Hence, she could take only boys, who could sleep mixed in with her sons.
Mother came home with the affidavit forms, placed them under my father’s nose at the kitchen table, and told him of her commitment. Signing the forms, as far as she was concerned, was only a formality. He saw it differently, because of the legal obligations his signature would impose… He could not envision for an instant how they could handle the additional expense of food, clothing, school, etc., for three more persons.
My mother answered him quietly, but with great passion. Even though we were poor, how could we refuse to save Jewish lives if we were given the chance to do so? She was ashamed of the other sisterhood members. All of them should have volunteered, and she would not hesitate to tell them so at the next meeting. “If we have enough food for five of us,” she asked, “why can’t we simply make it enough for eight?” If I must wash shirts for six boys instead of three, what’s the difference?”…
The parental argument raged all night—the only time I remember my parents raising their voices in anger and disagreement. She won. In the morning, my father signed the affidavits, and she proudly took them back to the sy nagogue.
As I mulled over the matter, I decided that my mother’s fight with my father symbolized the whole problem, and the only conclusion was therefore to act according to moral Jewish values, without permitting rationalization, delay, or any other diluting factor. “When history knocks, you answer.”
~ Quoted in Noam Zion and Barbara Specter, A Different Light (2000), pp. 79-80
As you reflect on this story, here are some questions to consider:
- How do the characters in this story understand whose freedom they are responsible for?
- How do they act on their sense of responsibility?
- Are there people they feel more responsible for than others? How do they prioritize? If you were in the same situation, would you do the same?
- How do you decide for whom you are responsible?
A FIFTH QUESTION: WHAT NOW?
The seder is the longest-running symposium on the meaning of freedom in history. For over 2,000 years, families, neighbors, and groups of citizens have gathered together for this uniquely Jewish exploration of universally human questions. The experience of the seder (like much of our learning) should help us achieve a sense of gratitude for what we have, a wider feeling of responsibility for others, and a commitment to act on those sentiments. As we conclude this conversation, here are some final questions to consider:
- Has this experience helped you come to any new insights about your own freedom?
- Has it helped you feel a deeper or wider sense of responsibility?
- What is one thing you want to do in the next 24 hours to act on something you discovered in this conversation?
- What could we do together to improve our community based on what we’ve talked about here?