blogs/rabbi-huberman

Oranges, Scallions and Jelly Beans

There is a misconception among many Jewish families that the most authentic Passover Seders are those which follow the ancient text of the Haggadah line by line, word by word.

And that somehow, when we omit the "boring parts" or try to make the Passover Seders more fun, we are somehow cutting corners or "cheating."

Nothing could be further from the truth.

Many of us have memories growing up around serious faces at the Passover table, speedily reading the Passover Haggadah, while we whispered to our parents, "When can we eat?"

I've heard many accounts of excruciating Seders led by "Uncle Moishe" droning in Hebrew with barely any discussion or explanation.

It's no wonder so many inquisitive young Jews shy away from "tradition."  Where is the meaning? Where is the spirituality? Why is this night different from all other nights?

So I'm here to tell you, on the eve of Shabbat HaGadol - the Great Pre-Pesach Shabbat - that if you are planning your Passover Seder without fun, stories, and relevant discussions, then no matter how much Hebrew you can read, you're only halfway there.

There are so many new traditions surrounding Pesach that can add fun and create everlasting memories. 

The Torah tells us that one of the most important reasons we gather for Passover is to share with our children, our communal story of liberation, to ensure our continued national dedication towards freedom.

As the Haggadah, the official text of the Passover Seder, reminds us, "Whoever elaborates upon the story of Passover deserves praise." 

Within these words, the Haggadah reminds us to stop reading for a few minutes -- to talk, discuss, share, laugh, cry, and remember.

And we have so many new rituals now that can help us to do just that.

How about placing an orange on your Seder plate? The orange reminds us of those people who religious communities have often overlooked: women, members of the LGBTQ community, the mentally and physically challenged.

How about making the Ten Plagues fun? 

At our communal Seder, we pop bubble wrap to recall the plague of boils.  We throw Passover jelly beans to remember the plague of lice, and don sunglasses to experience darkness.  

Wind-up jumping frogs help us remember the second plague, and then we'll throw styrofoam chips to recall the hail. There is much more.

There's also the more serious truth, one we cannot forget or ignore, that we still live in a time of plagues. And so we take time to consider the plagues of today: poverty, racism, hunger, addiction, enslavement, the trafficking of human beings. 

This is a time to renew our commitment to liberating those who still suffer from those plagues: we think about solutions, and what our contribution to a modern-day exodus can be.

There is nothing wrong with reducing some of the Haggadah's repetition, replacing it with discussion, poems or other readings. 

In many Sephardic households, before Dayenu begins, Seder participants stand, take a scallion, and begin whacking one another over the feasting table.  Some believe this is a way to mimic the whips of Egyptian slave drivers; others say it's a reference to the Torah, when the Jews complained about life in the desert, and longed for Egyptian onions instead of manna.

The ritual is not only meaningful, but fun, and fun doesn't cheapen what our children learn or our commitment to remembrance.

Just about everyone knows how to sing Dayenu, but what does it really mean? Dayenu reminds us that Egypt was just the beginning: that our quest for freedom and spiritual meaning is ongoing.

Today I'm sharing a link to a short video from the American Jewish World Service, which encourages us to think about some possible Dayenus for today.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ldneQOF5WH0 

Some pass around a Cup of Miriam, either pouring in water or pouring it out, in remembrance of Miriam's leadership in the desert, and her remarkable ability to locate water.  The ritual also encourages us to recall our own mothers and grandmothers, and other women who -- too often forgotten--have played such an important role in our lives.

It's interesting that in ancient times, it was actually rare for a rabbi to deliver a sermon. Rabbis were seen as teachers. Yet twice a year, during the week between Rosh Hashanah, and then again at the Sabbath before Passover, Shabbat HaGadol, rabbis gathered their congregations and delivered a lengthy sermon about the laws and significance of the holy days.

I'm sparing you that.

I ask only that, as you plan your Seder, you think first of the children who gather round your table. What will they remember of Passover twenty or thirty years from now?

Although experiencing a long Hebrew Seder does connect families with roots and tradition, we need to ask ourselves will it inspire the future.

So, before Monday evening, let us consider adding something new: oranges, scallions, jumping frogs, even jelly beans.

Let us read and respect the sacred and storied account known as the Haggadah, written two thousand years ago. But let us also remember, as the Haggadah itself teaches us, that it is important to "elaborate."

Find readings which are meaningful to you. Identify and speak about those who remain enslaved today. Decide to do something to help.  Have the courage to leave parts of the book behind and create conversations which will endure.

Late one afternoon when I was still in rabbinical school, one of our rabbis asked those around the table to share a memory about growing up Jewish. 

There was little talk of words or prayers. For each of us, the most powerful memories recalled a family ritual, the sound of laughter, the sight of food on the table, or the memory of someone loved and missed. 

I told them about the smell of Bubbie Rivka's potato verenikes wafting from the kitchen, or the dramatic way that Zaidie Nissan read from the Haggadah.  It was as if he were talking directly to us. Because he was.

I remember too the heated political discussions I'd have in the late 1960's with my uncle Allan. I remember the crystal chandelier that hung over my grandparents' tisch, today casting light over my parents' dining room table.

These are the faces and smells -- so many things. What do you remember?

There's more to a meaningful Seder than words on a page. So much more. The ancient story must be recounted, remembered, respected, but we need to let ourselves have a bit of fun, too, in creating new rituals that truly embrace the freedom we enjoy in this country. This liberty enables us to convene, pray, laugh, and worship in peace.

And no matter how much of the official Haggadah you recite, or new readings and rituals you add, I'm here to tell you that if you're exploring or discussing the Passover themes, you're doing it right.

Create memories. Teach your children. Let them sing a new Dayenu. Let them play a part in our future.  Let them remember you as you remember those who came before. Look at the generations of faces around your Seder table and bless them, and each other.

Let us cast aside the bloat of our souls, put aside our differences, embrace family and friends, and cherish freedom. 

That is what God commanded us to do more than three thousand years ago. We have these moments to treasure our freedom anew, and to rededicate ourselves to the healing of this broken world.

As Jews, we will continue to speak about and value freedom, generation to generation, until one day -- perhaps even in our lifetimes -- we can look to the heavens and sing with a full and sweet voice:

Dayenu. 

Free at last.

Shabbat shalom, Chag Semeach - Happy Pesach.
 
Rabbi Irwin Huberman