Today we celebrate the end of Pesach. Has this week made a difference to us as individuals and as a community?
As a community we have had a memorable Pesach by marking it with the services and a meaningful communal Seder. This year having hostage photos at our Seder tables and then seeing the released videos of Keith Siegel and Omri Miran made the message of Pesach even more important and poignant. We will continue to pray for their release.
As individuals we enjoyed getting together with family and friends and some of us had additional symbols on our Seder plate to reflect the realities of our time. For example: orange – for women&LGBTQ community; beetroot instead of a bone; sunflower seeds – for the victims of the war in Ukraine and watermelon – for the victims of the war in the Middle East and olives – the symbol of peace.
Some of us are probably looking forward to having their toast, pasta or whiskey tomorrow and ready to say good bye to Matzah! I am rather an exception as I love having my tea with matzah and spread during Pesach! Though, the fact that I have to have extra dietary restrictions this week makes me realise how much I take food for granted.
We all take many things for granted and it is fantastic when we can. For example, health. We don’t notice it when we are healthy!
There are many other things in our life we don’t notice or take for granted until we lose them. Our parents, friends, the NHS, social order, our freedom and last but not least our food, as the Israelites realised in the wilderness.
On their journey to the Promised Land the Israelites bitterly complained about all the wonderful food they have left behind in Egyptian slavery: garlic, leeks, onions and fish.
The Israelites forgot the hardship of slavery but remembered the Egyptian food. It seems that the journey to the Promised Land wasn’t for snowflakes, though I would have thought that slavery is not for snowflakes either.
Pesach is a time of victory. The end of Pesach celebrations is the start of a forty year journey filled with many challenges, as indeed are our lives today. There is no point looking back at what we left on the other shore, no time to have regrets: leave your old self on the other shore of the sea and now, it is an opportunity for us as individuals and as a community to shape our freedom. What is being free going to look like for you? How can we maintain and celebrate our freedom as a community?
The song of the sea, “The ode of triumph”[1] , makes a very personal statement in the second verse of the song (Exodus 15:2):
עׇזִּ֤י וְזִמְרָת֙ יָ֔הּ וַֽיְהִי־לִ֖י לִֽישׁוּעָ֑ה
The Eternal is my strength and might, He is become my deliverance.
Our ancestors knew that they would need strength on their journey because soon they were going to be in charge of it. Being in charge of one’s life is often exciting but also scary.
This verse became a song in its own right for the generations to come because from time to time we all need encouragement and strength, just as our ancestors drew on their faith, so we need to on our journeys through our wilderness.
Why do you think the Rabbis instituted the reading of the Song of the Sea at the end of Pesach and not at the beginning, which would have been more logical?
It is to remind us at the end of the celebration, when we are back to our normal lives, the importance of carrying on the spirit of victory and triumph when we overcome our daily challenges. Just like our ancestors did so we have an opportunity to make a spiritual journey of transformation to Mount Sinai in the next 49 days.
Will we live up to the challenge and the mission we are about to embark on or will we come back to eating hametz and our old lives? It is up to each of us to decide.
The ball is in our court and there are many ways for us to make the next part of our Jewish calendar journey to Shavuot, meaningful and transformative. Learning how to appreciate our loved ones in a way they want us to and not the way we think they would like us to is a good start as in the following story:
At the end of the Seder night, four children chatted together.
They discussed the 95th birthday gifts they were able to give their
mother.
The first said, “You know I had a big house built for Mum.”
The second said, “And I had a large theatre built in the house.”
The third said, “And I had my Mercedes dealer deliver the latest model to her.”
The fourth said, “You know how mum loved reading the Torah and you know she can’t read anymore because she can’t see very well. I bought her a parrot who could recite the entire Torah.
It took ten rabbis over 8 years to teach him. I had to pledge to contribute £50,000 a year for five years to the shul, but it was worth it.
Mama only has to name the chapter and verse, and the parrot will recite it.”
After the birthday celebration the following month Mum sent out her “Thank You” notes.
She wrote:
Gershon, the house you built is so huge that I live in only one room,
but I have to clean the whole house. Thanks anyway.”
“Michael, you gave me an expensive theatre that can hold 50 people,
but all of my friends are dead, I’ve lost my hearing, and I’m nearly blind. I’ll never use it. Thank you for the gesture just the same.”
“Reuben, I am too old to travel. I stay home; I have my groceries
delivered, so I never use the Mercedes. The thought was good. Thanks anyway.”
“Dearest Moishe, you were the only son to have the good sense to give
a little thought to your gift. The chicken was delicious. Thank you so much.”
[1] The Torah, a modern commentary, General Editor W. Gunther Plaut, Union for Reform Judaism, 2006.
