March 31, 2017
Nisan 4, 5777
Dear Friends,
The Passover seder is a wonderful melange of ritual, text, food and discussion.
All seders are filled with familiar rituals, like leaning to the left or dipping twice; hiding the afikoman, or opening the door for Elijah. But a seder should also feature discussions that develop the great themes of the Haggadah and help us apply their lessons to the contemporary world.
One of the best ways to generate interesting discussions at the seder is through questions. The Haggadah has its own ritualized questions of course, but it's good, every year, to add a few of our own. Here are
four questions that I've come up with that you may want to ask at your seder this year:
QUESTION ONE:
Recently, David Brooks wrote a provocative op-ed article in the
New York Times (available
here) in which he made two assertions:
Historically, the Exodus story has been THE foundational epic story that has defined America from its earliest days. Brooks brings lots of evidence for this proposition. For example, did you know that the Pilgrims fashioned themselves modern-day Israelites? Or that an early proposal by Benjamin Franklin for the seal of the United States depicted
Moses crossing the Red Sea? (Click
here for a 19th century depiction of that.) Better known is the fact that the civil rights struggle in the 1960s drew powerful inspiration from the Exodus story. Viewed through the lens of the Exodus, not only was America understood to be a refuge for the oppressed, but it also inspired struggles for freedom throughout the world.
However, Brooks argues,
the Exodus story no longer serves that purpose. Many Americans do not view our country -- and don't think it
should be viewed -- as serving a higher purpose of this kind. They may see our country as a place in which individual Americans may pursue their own personal dreams, but they don't see the value of America playing a role in some transcendent epic story, and they don't believe America should serve the needs or desires of anyone else outside of our country.
So here's the question:
Do you agree with Brooks' assertions? Do you agree that
the Exodus is declining as America's organizing master-story, and that this decline is problematic? Or do you think it is good that our country is changing in this way?
(If you're leading your seder this year, you will want to read Brooks' essay (available
here
) before leading a discussion on this topic at the seder. Also, you may want to watch a discussion that Mr. Brooks had with former British Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks in which this topic came up. That discussion can be viewed
here
.)
QUESTION TWO:
"You were strangers in the land of Egypt." That's the refrain we so often associate with the Exodus story. And with that refrain come the exhortations of our tradition:
"You shall not wrong a stranger or oppress him, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt." (Ex. 22:21)
"You shall not oppress a stranger, since you yourselves know the feelings of a stranger, for you too were strangers in the land of Egypt." (Ex 23:9) Our tradition goes further than this. Most audaciously, it orders us:
"You must love the stranger as yourself!" (Leviticus 19:34)
So here's the question:
Does American immigration policy reflect these lofty exhortations? If not, how would you recommend that it be altered? And how would you implement such changes?
In your discussion, try to distinguish among the following:
Naturalized American citizens
Legal immigrants who have a permit to live and work in the United States.
Unauthorized immigrants (also known as undocumented aliens or illegal immigrants)
Refugees
QUESTION THREE:
At the seder we drink four cups of wine. Why? Well, traditionally, these are associated with the four promises God gives the Jewish People in Exodus 6:6-7:
"I will take you out!"
"I will save you!"
"I will redeem you" and
"I will take you as my own nation!"
Arguably, these four promises were fulfilled. The Jews were freed from Egyptian slavery and became a free nation. This is what we celebrate on the night of the seder.
But there was
another promise, conveyed in the next verse in Exodus:
"I will bring you to the Land that I promised your ancestors, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and I will give it to you as an inheritance (a
morashah)."
From the days when Jews began to celebrate the Passover seder (two thousand years ago) until 1948, everyone agreed that that promise remained unfulfilled. (After all, even though the Israelites -- or their descendants -- did make it to the Promised Land, they were eventually exiled from it, and we lost our national sovereignty over the Land.)
And so, the tradition was to drink only
four cups of wine, not
five -- and yet to preserve the memory of that unfulfilled promise by having a fifth cup of wine, the Cup of Elijah, on the seder table. Not to drink from it, of course, but to serve as a reminder that our liberation struggle remained incomplete.
As we all know, for almost 69 years, ever since 1948, there has been a free Jewish state in the Land of Israel. True, not all Jews live there. And true, not only Jews live there. But it is a state in which Jews can live freely, can practice Judaism freely, and in which Jews can celebrate the fulfillment of that fifth promise.
So, here's my question:
Should we now be drinking that fifth cup of wine? Should we, toward the end of the seder, pour from the Cup of Elijah into the individual cups of all of the participants and drink in celebration of Israel's independence? Why or why not?
QUESTION FOUR:
To follow up on that third question:
What does it mean for us to recite "Next Year in Jerusalem" at the end of the seder? Should we continue to recite it? What indeed do we mean by saying those words? Do they still have meaning even if we have the freedom to live there -- but choose not to? Or the freedom to travel there -- but decide not to? Do those words have meaning if we have no plans to live in or travel to Israel in the near future?
I hope that you will ask at least
one of these four questions at your seders this year. If you do, please share some of the answers with me!
Hag Pesach Kasher v'Sameach,
Sincerely,