Monologue Transcript
Should Passover Be Just About the Jewish People?
Over the past year, through conversations with several of my guests, including today's,
I've come to think about the holiday of Passover in a deeper way.
Passover is when we relive the tale of the Israelites, exodus from Egypt,
the harrowing escape from 430 years of slavery into full-blown Jewish liberation.
We are meant not just to retell the story, but to re-experience it as if we
ourselves, were those slaves emerging from bondage year after year after year.
My Passover Seders have always been focused around kids, of
which there are many in my family.
So the Seders have sometimes felt a bit unsubstantial and somewhat rote.
But this year I've been inspired to search for real meaning in the holiday.
And in my reflection, I've hit upon three observations, behaviors, some
of us unconsciously engage in on Pesach that really stand out for
me in light of what we as a Jewish community are experiencing today.
First, it has long been a tradition and a beautiful one to find the
parallels between the struggles of the Israelites and the Passover story
and other contemporary communities.
Also suffering under oppression from Soviet Refuseniks to the African American
community to victims of sex trafficking and child labor to name just a few.
There has sadly never been a shortage of comparable narratives on which to focus.
It is a powerful way to deepen our empathy for those who need it, to humble us
in our comforts and teach our children about the Jewish values of justice
and freedom for everyone, everywhere.
Core ideals of our people and faith, and the situation for Jews
right now is not the same as it was 1, 2, 5, 10, 20 years ago.
We certainly are no slaves.
Far from it thanks to Israel and our strong position here in the us.
But there are enemies around us, bent on our destruction and frenemies who don't
understand how their words and actions contribute to that corrosive pursuit.
So this year, give yourself permission should you so desire to let this
holiday, which is about the suffering and ultimately deliverance of the Jewish
people, be about the Jewish people.
If you want no pressure, but no pressure not to.
We of the recent Jewish golden age are not accustomed to feeling victimized or
needing help or even being able to bear the idea of focusing on our own plight.
This is new for us and not just because we are a strong and resilient
people, but also because of that voice, the one that whispers.
Be more assimilated.
Don't make it about Jew.
I mean, you.
Jews are gonna be fine.
We always find a way, but right now it's okay.
If you don't feel fine, and if you still do want to bring focus to the distress
of another group, give yourself the recognition that in spite of our own
difficulties, you are actively choosing to highlight the hardships of others.
That kind of intentionality only deepens the significance of the
action and will bring even more meaning to your holiday celebration.
Second observation.
In some ways, the mirror image of the first in the Passover story, God
reigns down horrific violence against the enemies of the Jewish people.
Not only does God drown the legions of Pharaoh, including their horses in
the Red Sea, but he sends the angel of death to murder every firstborn son
in every Egyptian household, again, including animals for some reason.
According to chat, GPT based on rough population models, a six figure death
toll among firstborns is a reasonable guess at the scale of the devastation.
Said another way.
One I find particularly resonant this year, the God of the Jews slaughters
thousands of innocent civilians, many of them children, in order
to free the Jews from captivity.
I feel like this mass murder of Egyptians is usually somewhat glossed
over in the Seder proceedings.
It is certainly Pharaoh who's responsible for bringing the immense suffering of the
plagues upon his own people by repeatedly refusing diplomatic calls to free the
Jews from bondage, which would very clearly be the moral and just thing to do.
It is the Jews who are oppressed and then pursued by Egyptian enemies.
So again, tough to find fault with our collective non-reaction to scores of bad
guys receiving their just desserts in the name of liberation from brutal oppression.
And I can't help but wonder, I. Was there perhaps another way to achieve
the freedom of the Jewish people without killing thousands of children?
Perhaps there wasn't.
And after all, it worked.
So there's obviously a case to be made that the ends justify
the means, and yet do they?
Is freedom from clear and malevolent villainy always worth
its cost and innocent blood?
How culpable is a population for the actions of its leadership or its children
for the actions of their parents?
At the very least, don't we as Jews have the moral obligation to pause the
unfolding of our narrative to ask these questions rigorously and sincerely.
We don't need to be afraid of the answers, whatever they may be finding the humility
and honesty required to seek them is in and of itself a necessary and worthwhile
exercise in accountability and integrity.
And a final observation every year in the Hagada, the Seder booklet.
We read the words
next year in Jerusalem.
This phrase was added to the haga hundreds of years ago during
the 14th century, but was in use for centuries before it as well.
However you wanna interpret it, whether it's literally about you
visiting or moving to Jerusalem, or the Jewish people returning there after
centuries of exile, or the Messiah appearing there and ushering in the
Messianic era or the Israeli version next year in a rebuilt Jerusalem.
It is impossible to deny Jerusalem's place within the heart of the Jewish people.
Yet some people choose to, while others breeze through this line without
pausing to appreciate how momentous, how fantastic, how unbelievable it
is that any of us could indeed be in Jerusalem next year, should we so choose.
Do you know how many times the word Jerusalem is mentioned in the Quran?
Zero times.
How about in the Hebrew Bible?
660 times.
Aside from some medieval periods of exile, there have been Jews in Jerusalem since
the Ottoman Empire, and it has been a majority Jewish city since the mid 18
hundreds, well before the establishment of the modern state of Israel.
Anyone who says a connection to Israel is not intrinsic to being Jewish is either
misinformed, disingenuous, or a little too excited to present their own fringe
belief as mainstream Jewish thought.
It isn't.
So this year, when you utter those sacred words in your own Seder, next
year in Jerusalem, do so with Kavanaugh, with deep feeling and intentionality.
Take that moment to remember how lucky we are to have moved that
phrase from a wish to a reality.
Hanukkah might be the holiday most associated with miracles, but Passovers
nod to the existence and availability of a Jewish home in Israel is, for
me, the greatest miracle of all.
And that's a story worth retelling year after year after year.