There hasn’t always been a set Passover Seder. It didn’t spring up as a full blown ritual in one generation, and certainly not during the generations we were resident in the Land of Israel. At one time early on in the first century, Passover was a time of pilgrimage to the Temple in Jerusalem and offering of the Paschal sacrifice, which the egg refers to on our modern seder plates. After the destruction of both Temples and our subsequent exile our Sages transformed Judaism from a religion of cultic worship and sacrifice to a synagogue based religion. Well, not completely as it turns out…
Even in the era of Temple sacrifice there was an acknowledgement that not everyone had the resources to offer the required sacrifice. If one household cannot afford a lamb, we are told in Exodus 12:3-4, then let two households join together to sacrifice/offer up one lamb. It was never assumed everyone had access to wealth, much less basic necessities. The imperative of Passover shifted after sacrifice in Jerusalem was no longer possible. Now we are told “Tell your child on that day what the Eternal did for you, taking you out of the House of Bondage”. The Passover Seder is primarily a vehicle to accomplish that, and as such, it happens at home, around the family dining table. Parents tell children, children “ask questions”, everybody drinks a little, dips a little, leaves an enormous number of matza crumbs no matter how little they actually eat. And we remind ourselves that way back in our history we were slaves.
That’s traumatizing on one level, but on another it sensitizes us to what it means to have nothing and no hope of changing one’s plight. We are abjured by our tradition: “In every generation each person must see themselves as if they personally went out of Egypt”. I realize the pronouns may sound wrong, but in the broadest sense Passover is about touching base with the Jewish people, not through a prayerbook, but through “The Telling”, the Haggaddah. There is no one Haggaddah and never has been. We tell the story differently every year because we are different people every year.
This year I invite you to consider the differences and similarities between an early Ashkenazi Haggadah …
Pesach Haggadah, Magid, Ha Lachma Anya 3
כָּל דִכְפִין יֵיתֵי וְיֵיכֹל, כָּל דִצְרִיךְ יֵיתֵי וְיִפְסַח. הָשַּׁתָּא הָכָא, לְשָׁנָה הַבָּאָה בְּאַרְעָא דְיִשְׂרָאֵל. הָשַּׁתָּא עַבְדֵי, לְשָׁנָה הַבָּאָה בְּנֵי חוֹרִין.
Let all who are hungry come and eat, all who are in need come and make Pesach [with us]. This year here, next year in the Land of Israel. This year we are slaves, next year may we be free.
And a “Mizrachi” Haggadah (from communities of Arab majority):
Pesach Haggadah Edot Hamizrah, Magid, Ha Lachma Anya 8
מגביהין את הקערה ואומרים
הָא (יש אומרים הֵא, ויש אומרים כְּהָא) לַחְמָא עַנְיָא. דִּי אֲכָלוּ אַבְהָתָנָא בְּאַרְעָא דְמִצְרָיִם. כָּל דִּכְפִין יֵיתֵי וְיֵכוּל. כָּל דִּצְרִיךְ יֵיתֵי וְיִפְסַח. הַשַּׁתָּא הָכָא. לְשָׁנָה הַבָּאָה בְּאַרְעָא דְיִשְׂרָאֵל. הַשַּׁתָּא הָכָא עַבְדֵּי. לְשָׁנָה הַבָּאָה בְּאַרְעָא דְיִשְׂרָאֵל בְּנֵי חוֹרִין: שלש פעמים
(lift up the Seder plate)
This (some say like this) is the bread of affliction, that our fathers ate in the land of Egypt. Let all who are hungry come and eat, all who are in need come and make Pesach [with us]. This year here, next year in the Land of Israel. This year we are slaves, next year in the Land of Israel as free people (3X)
The emphasis in the Haggadah from the Eastern Communities seems to be not only on how important freedom is, but also the vision of a place where all are free to be Jews. My understanding is that it is not so much the land, the real estate of Israel, as it is that we will be the ones making decisions for ourselves there.
Let us consider how we will express our freedom as we approach Pesach this year – will we share our plenty, inviting not only family but also others who may not have a place at a table for Seder this year? Will we contribute food so that our bounty will still be enough for us, but also nourish those who have little? We seemingly have only the bland matzah, the bread of affliction to offer those we invite. This is an illusion - the invitation itself is a gift, it is opening not only your door but yourself to see another person as just that, a free person like you.
Shabbat Shalom Rabbi Leah Benamy
