Rabbi Rachel's Reflections
Rabbi Rachel's Message
April 2021
April 2021
Shalom chevraya,
As I write this, Passover is quickly approaching, and as you read this, we will all have had our seders and be in the “in between” (Chol HaMo’eid) days of Passover. For many reasons, Passover has always been my favorite holiday. I love the spring cleaning, the cooking, making my way through the Haggadah (twice!), and all the ritual foods. But I also appreciate the charge to “teach it to my children” and the different modalities for doing so that are built into the Haggadah. There is something about the time travel involved in trying to imagine ourselves as slaves in Egypt, and the passing on of that act of imagination to future generations, that I find very moving.
It wasn’t until I started rabbinical school, though, that I really learned the deeper meaning of exactly what the “it” is that we’re teaching to our children. Yes, it’s the story of our exodus from Egypt that begins with the killing of the Israelite newborn baby boys and Moses’ escape in a basket on the Nile and ends with the crossing of the Red Sea. Yes, it’s the narrative par excellence about God’s upholding of our covenantal relationship—a narrative so central that we refer to it every time we pray. But it’s also and perhaps most profoundly about the spiritual transformation that we undergo as we journey from enslaved to free. When we look beyond the high drama of our physical redemption, we find the main message of Passover—that we must also be spiritually redeemed in order to receive revelation at Mount Sinai. More on that in my bulletin article next month on Shavuot!
Meanwhile, Passover and the theme of freedom has particular resonance for us this year, as we begin to emerge from the narrow place of COVID-19. Individually and collectively, we have quite literally experienced a protracted trauma, and although freedom is in the air, it’s not here yet. Part of 18th-century Chasidic leader Uziel Meizels’ commentary on the seder speaks to our current moment. He notes that the order in which we bless and eat matzah and maror seems to be backward when considered chronologically: “The bitter herbs recall the exile of Egypt, while matzah recalls the liberation that came afterwards.” In other words, although our liberation came after our exile, we eat the symbolic food of liberation—matzah—before we eat the symbolic food of hardship—maror. According to Meizels, this order actually makes sense given the way we process hardship: “When you are in the midst of bondage and engaged in backbreaking labor, you do not realize how much your body is broken. Only when you rest do you feel the toll that your labor has taken.” He seems to be saying that we can’t fully taste the bitterness of enslavement until we’re no longer enslaved, because prior to that we’re simply intent on survival and don’t have the luxury of processing our experiences.
Many have wondered what will be the long term effects of the losses and social isolation wrought by the pandemic. According to Meizels, we won’t know until we’re on the other side of it. Only when most of the world is vaccinated, and we no longer walk around in fear, will the full scope of what we’ve lived through fully hit us. Just as we’ve been there for each other as a community through this narrow time, we will continue to be there for each other in freedom, with all that may bring.
B’vracha,
Rabbi Rachel
As I write this, Passover is quickly approaching, and as you read this, we will all have had our seders and be in the “in between” (Chol HaMo’eid) days of Passover. For many reasons, Passover has always been my favorite holiday. I love the spring cleaning, the cooking, making my way through the Haggadah (twice!), and all the ritual foods. But I also appreciate the charge to “teach it to my children” and the different modalities for doing so that are built into the Haggadah. There is something about the time travel involved in trying to imagine ourselves as slaves in Egypt, and the passing on of that act of imagination to future generations, that I find very moving.
It wasn’t until I started rabbinical school, though, that I really learned the deeper meaning of exactly what the “it” is that we’re teaching to our children. Yes, it’s the story of our exodus from Egypt that begins with the killing of the Israelite newborn baby boys and Moses’ escape in a basket on the Nile and ends with the crossing of the Red Sea. Yes, it’s the narrative par excellence about God’s upholding of our covenantal relationship—a narrative so central that we refer to it every time we pray. But it’s also and perhaps most profoundly about the spiritual transformation that we undergo as we journey from enslaved to free. When we look beyond the high drama of our physical redemption, we find the main message of Passover—that we must also be spiritually redeemed in order to receive revelation at Mount Sinai. More on that in my bulletin article next month on Shavuot!
Meanwhile, Passover and the theme of freedom has particular resonance for us this year, as we begin to emerge from the narrow place of COVID-19. Individually and collectively, we have quite literally experienced a protracted trauma, and although freedom is in the air, it’s not here yet. Part of 18th-century Chasidic leader Uziel Meizels’ commentary on the seder speaks to our current moment. He notes that the order in which we bless and eat matzah and maror seems to be backward when considered chronologically: “The bitter herbs recall the exile of Egypt, while matzah recalls the liberation that came afterwards.” In other words, although our liberation came after our exile, we eat the symbolic food of liberation—matzah—before we eat the symbolic food of hardship—maror. According to Meizels, this order actually makes sense given the way we process hardship: “When you are in the midst of bondage and engaged in backbreaking labor, you do not realize how much your body is broken. Only when you rest do you feel the toll that your labor has taken.” He seems to be saying that we can’t fully taste the bitterness of enslavement until we’re no longer enslaved, because prior to that we’re simply intent on survival and don’t have the luxury of processing our experiences.
Many have wondered what will be the long term effects of the losses and social isolation wrought by the pandemic. According to Meizels, we won’t know until we’re on the other side of it. Only when most of the world is vaccinated, and we no longer walk around in fear, will the full scope of what we’ve lived through fully hit us. Just as we’ve been there for each other as a community through this narrow time, we will continue to be there for each other in freedom, with all that may bring.
B’vracha,
Rabbi Rachel