The Seder is Holy Ground

 

What makes a space holy?

Perhaps history creates holiness. 

Maybe it’s in a glade surrounded by trees where centuries of wise woman spoke words of connection and mystery. 

Perhaps it’s accidental.  

Maybe it’s in lower Manhattan where thousands died and buildings fell and we all still go to cry and remember. 

But what if the holiness is intentional,

Created on purpose by us,

As a holy separation?

Imagine that I have a table with nothing on it,

Empty of content and meaning.

But then I take a glass and turn it upside down 

And declare,

“Everything inside that glass is kadosh, holy and

Everything outside that glass is khol, mundane”

And you agree with me, 

Then is that so?

And if I pick up the glass, does the holy air inside become everyday odorless gas?

So perhaps today we  can place a glass over ourselves,

Right here in this room where history and accident have us sitting around this Seder table at this unholy moment in time.  

So together, let us declare, 

‘We are telling a holy ancient story that is happening right now!

We are asking ancient and brand new holy questions, and

The air we breathe is holy air and 

This is holy ground. ‘

Amen

 

Before We Eat

Blessed Holy Wholeness,

As we sit here at our Seder table

To celebrate our gathering and our wonderful meal,

We mourn the bombing deaths of the seven World Central Kitchen volunteers 

Who only wanted to feed the hungry. 

We hate the war that brought them to Gaza

And we mourn all the assaulted and the kidnapped and the bombed and the dead. 

May all these memories be for blessings. 

And may those sitting at this table

Take responsibility for this world and

Do more to emulate the seven volunteers: 

May we seek peace

And pursue justice 

And house the homeless

And feed the hungry. 

Amen

Why Do We Tell This Story?

 

Why do we tell this story?

To remember when we were slaves

So that we have compassion for others’ pain

And we do not enslave others. 

Why do we tell this story?

To remember how we got to Sinai and Torah

So that we can recognize righteous struggle 

And have patience for the long hauls.  

Why do we tell this story?

To remember joy and bitterness with savory and sweet food

So that we can eat matzo brei, gefilte fish and  brisket

And charoses and marshmallow twists. 

Why do we tell this story?

To remember and endlessly discuss its meanings

So that we can ask questions and then question the answers 

Because that’s what we like to do.

Why do we tell this story?

To remember this narrative that creates a people 

So we can cherish our myth

And hope repetition somehow makes it true. 

Why do we tell this story?

To remember when we were underdogs and heroes

So that we can study the times when we are not

And do the right things no matter what.  

Why do we tell this story?

To remember what it felt like when we told it last year

So that we can remember the year before that

And the years before that.  

Why do we tell this story?