Sunday 28 April 2024

Images of Splitting the Sea

4th-5th c. Huqoq Synagogue Galil                                                               



With thanks to Carla Sulzbach PhD for alerting me to this mosaic and Shani Tzoref PhD for this text.

Pesachim 118b

רַבִּי נָתָן אוֹמֵר: ״וֶאֱמֶת ה׳ לְעוֹלָם״  — דָּגִים שֶׁבַּיָּם אֲמָרוּהוּ, כִּדְרַב הוּנָא. דְּאָמַר רַב הוּנָא: יִשְׂרָאֵל שֶׁבְּאוֹתוֹ הַדּוֹר מִקְּטַנֵּי אֲמָנָה הָיוּ, וְכִדְדָרֵשׁ רַבָּה בַּר מָרִי: מַאי דִּכְתִיב ״וַיַּמְרוּ עַל יָם בְּיַם סוּף״ — מְלַמֵּד שֶׁהִמְרוּ יִשְׂרָאֵל בְּאוֹתָהּ שָׁעָה וְאָמְרוּ: כְּשֵׁם שֶׁאָנוּ עוֹלִין מִצַּד אֶחָד, כָּךְ מִצְרִיִּים עוֹלִים מִצַּד אַחֵר.

אָמַר לוֹ הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא לְשַׂר שֶׁל יָם: פְּלוֹט אוֹתָן לַיַּבָּשָׁה! אָמַר לְפָנָיו: רִבּוֹנוֹ שֶׁל עוֹלָם, כְּלוּם יֵשׁ עֶבֶד שֶׁנּוֹתֵן לוֹ רַבּוֹ מַתָּנָה וְחוֹזֵר וְנוֹטֵל מִמֶּנּוּ? אָמַר לוֹ: אֶתֵּן לָךְ אֶחָד וּמֶחֱצָה שֶׁבָּהֶן


Rabbi Natan said "The truth of God is forever." - The fishes in the sea said this, as Rav Huna said, "The Israelietes of that generation were of little faith, they rebelled against God, saying that as we go up one side, the Egyptians will come up the other side.

The Holy Blessed One said to the Ministering Angel of the Sea, "Spit them out onto dry land," The Angel said before God, "Ruler of the World, has there ever been a servant who received a gift from their master who returned it back from them? God said to the Angel, "I give one half of them."

Rashi -a servant who received a gift from their master  - wages to the fish.








Sarajevo Haggadah 1350

Exodus 14:23

23 A Pharaoh’s horses, his chariots, and his horsemen.

Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer 43:8

(8) Rabbi Nechunia, son of Haḳḳanah, said: Know thou the power of repentance. Come and see from Pharaoh, king of Egypt, who rebelled most grievously against the Rock, the Most High, as it is said, "Who is the Lord, that I should hearken unto his voice?" (Ex. 5:2). In the same terms of speech in which he sinned, he repented, as it is said "Who is like thee, O Lord, among the mighty?" (Ex. 15:11). The Holy One, blessed be He, delivered him from amongst the dead… He went and ruled in Nineveh...When the Holy One, blessed be He, sent for Jonah, to prophesy against (the city) its destruction, Pharaoh hearkened and arose from his throne, rent his garments and clothed himself in sackcloth and ashes.

 

 


Venice Haggadah 1609 



Tali Visual Bet Midrash

Two Israelites pull Egyptian soldiers from the Sea, while Miriam dances and plays a tambourine together with female companions.

Exodus 15

וַתִּקַּח֩ מִרְיָ֨ם הַנְּבִיאָ֜ה אֲח֧וֹת אַהֲרֹ֛ן אֶת־הַתֹּ֖ף בְּיָדָ֑הּ וַתֵּצֶ֤אןָ כׇֽל־הַנָּשִׁים֙ אַחֲרֶ֔יהָ בְּתֻפִּ֖ים וּבִמְחֹלֹֽת





Nicholas Poussain, Early C17

As with so many of Poussin’s works, the source for the content of the Crossing is a text, specifically the Old Testament Book of Exodus (14. 19-31) with some additional details taken from the Antiquities (II, 16. 2-6) by the first-century historian Flavius Josephus. In the immediate foreground, five sinewy men drag bodies from the water, divesting them of their arms and armour, a detail from Josephus and a mark of God’s providence in supplying the refugee Israelites with weapons for their defence. 

 

Josephus Antiquities II 16:6

6. On the next day Moses gathered together the weapons of the Egyptians, which were brought to the camp of the Hebrews by the current of the sea, and the force of the winds resisting it; and he conjectured that this also happened by Divine Providence, that so they might not be destitute of weapons. So when he had ordered the Hebrews to arm themselves with them, he led them to Mount Sinai, in order to offer sacrifice to God, and to render oblations for the salvation of the multitude, as he was charged to do beforehand.





Golden Haggadah, Spain 1320

Siobhán Dowling Long

It is interesting that the decision was made to highlight Miriam’s Song of the Sea rather than her brother Moses (vv.1–19). In making this choice, the focus of attention is directed to her ritual leadership of a religious and politically significant ceremony: the celebration of the deliverance of the Israelites from their enemy.

Miriam is depicted as a young maiden, clad in an elegant medieval gown. She holds a small square frame drum (adufe) decorated with an Islamic motif, alongside three other female musicians who play a lute—an instrument associated with the female form (Dowling Long 2011: 108–113)—a circular frame drum (pandero), the cymbal, and clappers.  Interestingly, in many cultures, the adufe or frame drum is a woman’s drum, associated with female sexuality. Often it is the only drum that women are permitted to use (Montagu 2007: 29)—a tradition that continues in parts of Portugal and Spain today (Cohen 2008). Doubleday (2008: 13) notes that the drum is ‘a symbol par excellence of the womb’, with the drum skin signifying ‘the unbroken hymen’, and the women’s drum playing ‘likened to sexual intercourse’ (ibid: 28). 


 


Early Christian writers [regarded] Miriam as a type of Church—for example in Ambrose's description of her ‘as a virgin [who] with unstained spirit joins together the religious gatherings of the people to sing divine songs’ (Concerning Virgins, 1.3.12). They also understood Miriam as a type of Mary the Mother of Christ. Notable among these was Peter Chrysologus who drew a parallel between the two women’s names, Miriam (Hebrew: Miryam) being the same as Mary (Greek: Mariam) (Sermon, 146). Luca Giordano (d. 1705, who painted many representations of the Virgin Mary, might well have intended to represent Miriam as a type of Mary, given the similarity of Miriam’s attire in this rendition to the Virgin’s attire in his many other paintings.





Laura James 1999, Commentary Jo Milgrom, Joel Duman

A large crowd stands on the shore of the Red Sea, in a line that undulates in three waves, starting from the angel in the upper right corner. Standing out in this crowd – because of their head coverings – are Miriam on the right in a white dress and Moses, who is holding a staff, on the left.

In this painting, everything is in motion. In addition to the undulating waves of people, the individuals are also moving; for the most part they are not standing straight, but rather with their hips on an angle and swaying – in other words, they are dancing!


 


Exodus 13

וַחֲמֻשִׁ֛ים עָל֥וּ בְנֵי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל מֵאֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרָֽיִם׃

Rashi וחמשים.

אֵין חֲמוּשִׁים אֶלָּא מְזֻיָּנִים


Michaelangela, Sistine Chapel


 

Sotah 37a

אָמַר לוֹ רַבִּי יְהוּדָה: לֹא כָּךְ הָיָה מַעֲשֶׂה, אֶלָּא זֶה אוֹמֵר: אֵין אֲנִי יוֹרֵד תְּחִילָּה לַיָּם, וְזֶה אוֹמֵר: אֵין אֲנִי יוֹרֵד תְּחִילָּה לַיָּם, קָפַץ נַחְשׁוֹן בֶּן עַמִּינָדָב וְיָרַד לַיָּם תְּחִילָּה

Numbers

1:7 These are the names of the participants who shall assist you: From Reuben, Elizur son of Shedeur. From Simeon, Shelumiel son of Zurishaddai. From Judah, Nahshon son of Amminadab.

7:12 The one who presented his offering on the first day was Nahshon son of Amminadab of the tribe of Judah.

Numbers Rabba 13

נַחְשׁוֹן בֶּן עַמִּינָדָב לְמַטֵּה יְהוּדָה (במדבר ז, יב), לָמָּה נִקְרָא שְׁמוֹ נַחְשׁוֹן, עַל שֵׁם שֶׁיָּרַד תְּחִלָּה לַנַּחְשׁוֹל שֶׁבַּיָּם. אָמַר רַבִּי שִׁמְעוֹן בֶּן יוֹחָאי אָמַר הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא לְמשֶׁה מִי שֶׁקִּדֵּשׁ אֶת שְׁמִי בַּיָּם הוּא יַקְרִיב תְּחִלָּה, וְזֶה הָיָה נַחְשׁוֹן,


 

 

 

An Angel Called Truth

I glanced back at the crowd. Moses was gesticulating – go swim, go swim! So on I went. I tried to spot my parents. There they were, standing calm ... as I, their son, walked out into deep and life-threatening water. How could they look so proud when I was busy drowning?


 

 





Exodus 13 And Moses took with him the bones of Joseph, who had exacted an oath from the children of Israel, saying, “God will be sure to take notice of you: then you shall carry up my bones from here with you.”

Sotah 16a-b

The Sages taught Come and see how beloved mitzvot are to Moses our teacher. As all the Jewish people were involved in taking plunder and he was involved in mitzvot. And from where did Moses our teacher know where Joseph was buried? Serah, the daughter of Asher, remained from that generation. Moses went to her and said to her: Do you know where Joseph is buried? She said to him: The Egyptians fashioned a metal casket for him and set it in the Nile [Nilus] River so that its water would be blessed. Moses went and stood on the bank of the Nile. He said, “Joseph, Joseph, the time has arrived about which the Holy Blessed One, took an oath that, “I [God], will redeem you. If you show yourself, good, if not, we are clear from your oath.” Immediately, the casket of Joseph rose.

And all those years that the Jewish people were in the wilderness, these two arks, one of a dead man and one of the Divine Presence, travelled together, and passersby would say “What is the nature of these two arks?” They said “One is of a dead person and one is of the Divine Presence.” “In what way does dead person travel with the Divine Presence?” They said, “This fulfilled all that is written in this.”

 

Joshua 24

The bones of Joseph, which the Israelites had brought up from Egypt, were buried at Shechem, in the piece of ground that Jacob had bought from the children of Hamor, Shechem’s father.

 


"This is God's prophet, our master Joseph, peace be upon him", 1917. The text is stated on the top part with large letter in Arabic: "Hadhā nabiyy-’Allah sayyidinā Yūsuf ʿalayhi ’s-salām" (هٰذا نَبِيّ الله سَيِّدِنَا يُوسُف عَلَيهِ ٱلْسَّلَام)

 

The Itinerarium Burdigalense (333 CE) notes: "At the foot of the mountain itself, is a place called Sichem. Here is a tomb in which Joseph is laid, in the parcel of ground which Jacob his father gave to him."[68] Eusebius of Caesarea in the 4th-century records in his Onomasticon: "Suchem, city of Jacob now deserted. The place is pointed out in the suburb of Neapolis. There the tomb of Joseph is pointed out nearby."[69][70] Jerome, writing of Saint Paula's sojourn in Palestine writes that "turning off the way [from Jacob's well], she saw the tombs of the twelve patriarchs".[71] Jerome himself, together with the Byzantine monk George Syncellus, who had lived many years in Palestine, wrote that all twelve patriarchs, Joseph included, were buried at Sychem.[72]



 After the events of October 2000, the IDF prohibited Israeli access to the tomb.[152] As a result of Operation Defensive Shield, Nablus was reoccupied by the IDF in April 2002, with severe damage to the historic core of the city, where 64 heritage buildings suffered serious damage or were destroyed.[153] Some Breslov hasidim and others began to take advantage of the new circumstances to visit the site clandestinely under the cover of darkness, evading army and police checkpoints. Eventually Joseph's tomb was once more open to visits. In May 2002, Israeli soldiers mistakenly opened fire on a convoy of settlers taking advantage of an ongoing incursion in Nablus to visit the tomb. Seven settlers were arrested by the army for illegally entering a combat zone.[154] As a result of Operation Defensive Shield, the tomb was retaken by the IDF and shortly afterwards, in response to numerous requests, they renewed guarded tours of the tomb.

In February 2007, thirty five Knesset members (MKs) wrote to the army asking them to open Joseph's Tomb to Jewish visitors for prayer.[155] In May 2007, Breslov hasidim visited the site for the first time in two years and later on that year, a group of hasidim found that the gravesite had been cleaned up by the Palestinians. In the past few years the site had suffered from neglect and its appearance had deteriorated, with garbage being dumped and tires being burned there.[158]

In early 2008, a group of MKs wrote a letter to the Prime Minister asking that the tomb be renovated: "The tombstone is completely shattered, and the holy site is desecrated in an appalling manner, the likes of which we have not seen in Israel or anywhere else in the world."[159] In February, it was reported that Israel would officially ask the Palestinian Authority to carry out repairs at the tomb,[160] but in response, vandals set tires on fire inside the tomb. In December 2008, Jewish workers funded by anonymous donors painted the blackened walls and re-built the shattered stone marker covering the grave.[161]

The tomb

As of 2009, monthly visits to the tomb in bullet-proof vehicles under heavy IDF protection are organised by the Yitzhar based organization Shechem Ehad.[162] In late April 2009, a group of Jewish worshipers found the headstone smashed and swastikas painted on the walls, as well as boot prints on the grave itself.[163]

 


 

 

 


Sunday 21 April 2024

Chad Gadya in a World of Violence

 My dear friend and teacher, Rabbi Josh Kulp, lead author of the Schechter Haggadah has published something very special this year – it’s a collection of hopeful and profound extracts from early and pre-state Israeli Haggadot. He wrote, in introducing them that he Pesach to be a time of optimism and hope, and Mah Nishtanah – a different night, not talking about hostages and Gaza and Iran again.

I understand that,

But, Misken Ani – so I’m going to do the other thing. And if you came to Shul today hoping for the Rabbi to talk about something other than hostages and Gaza and Iran. I’m sorry. If it helps, I don’t think I’m going to mention the words again. Or maybe I will once.

I want to talk about Chad Gadya

In part because it’s my favourite Pesach song,

In part because it’s the song that most reminds me of – you know all the stuff that’s going on out there.

In part because I don’t get to share more thoughtful stuff around the time we are singing Chad Gaya at Seder Night. Everyone just wants to sing a good song and go home.

Chad Gadya is old, not quite as old as the rest of the Seder – most of the rest of the Seder is at least 1800 years old, but it dates back at least 500 years, which has to count for something.


 These are a couple of pages from the famous Prague Haggadah of 1527. I went for the page where you start drinking the wine and dipping the Marror and breaking the Matzah - it’s always the dirtiest page in my Haggadot - and I’m delighted to see nothing has changed in some 500 years.[1] So the Haggadah finishes - and then there’s an extra page. And there, in a different script are the lyrics of the Chad Gadya, both in Hebrew-Aramaic and Yiddish.



By 1590 it’s appearing in the properly printed pages of Haggadot in Prague and elsewhere.[2] So it’s definitely older than that. Rabbi Yedidya Weil wrote in 1790 that he had “heard that they found this song… safeguarded and written on a parchment at the Beit Midrash Rokeah in Worms [dated to 1406]  and it was decided that it will be sung on the eve of Passover for all generations to come.” 

 

And it’s part of a folk song tradition which includes “There was an old lady who swallowed a fly,” in which progressively bigger and more dangerous creatures and things gang up on smaller creatures and things until, well the world feels – in Hobbe’s phrase “nasty brutish and short.” The moral of the song seems to be that the way to survive in the world is be bigger, badder and the person that no-one fancies their chances in taking on.

Makes for odd reading in this time.

In my own thinking about this song, this year, I’ve been moved by something written by the veteran pro-peace Israeli activist, Mickael Mannekin[1]

“Once, I decided to read [Chad Gadya] backward; perhaps I would find a hidden lesson. We know God is good, and the angel of death is terrible. If we read the story backward, I thought, we could learn something about justice and retribution for the unjust. The unjust attack the just, so God retributes. I got stuck quickly. I understood that the Jewish butcher was good. But what did the cow do wrong? Drink water? Does that make water just for putting out fires? All the fire did was burn a stick. And if the stick is justice, that makes the dog injustice. If the dog is unjust, that makes the cat just. And if the cat is just, he’s right to bite the goat. But didn’t the goat come first? So much for restoring justice!

I then read the story forward, and things got worse. If the goat did no wrong, in this thesis and antithesis story of justice, the angel of death is well within the line of rational thinking on justice. Then what does that make God?

While preparing for Pesach this year, [said Mannekin] I started seeing Chad Gadya in a new light. Since October, many have been focused on trying to understand the root causes of violence. Unsurprisingly, each “side” in this conflict sees themselves as the victim. Violence is therefore either justifed or inevitable. To restore justice, one needs to go back to the origin. There lies pure good, they suggest.

There are many problems with this notion. One that particularly bothers me is how it erases or minimizes the pain of the other. Our side’s pain is never-ending. Their side is “contextualized.” In our hyper-ideological modern world, this outlook is present on all sides of the political map. Chad Gadya points to the futility of this exercise. Sure, God is good, and the Angel of Death is evil. But sometimes, a stick is just a stick, and a cat is just a cat. They are all part of a tug-of-war that, more often than not, has no coherent explanation and doesn’t make sense. Sometimes, there is no original sin, and no grand narrative — just violence.”

Ahhhh

The other piece that is providing me with insight in this awful year, was translated by Dr Saul Maggid[2] from the book Herut – freedom, by the early C20th Rabbi, Aaron Shmuel Tamares. Tamares published this in Bialistock just three years after the Kishinev pogrom of 1903.

All of this [the story of the Exodus] can be used to explain the final plague in Egypt, in which God executes death [to the first born of Egypt]. This judgment was deployed by Godself, as the Haggadah explains: “I passed over the night, I, and not an emissary.” This seems odd as God could have enabled the Israelites to wreak vengeance on the Egyptians. However, God did not want to even show the Israelites how to use the power of the fist, even in a moment of defending themselves against the evil ones. This is because, at that moment, while they would indeed be defending themselves against the aggressors, in the end they would have become aggressors.

Therefore, God took great pains to prevent the Israelites from enacting any vengeance against the evil ones; so much so that he prohibited them from even witnessing it. Thus, the [violent] act was deployed “in the middle of the night” in the darkest hour of the night. God also warned the Israelites not to leave their houses, all to separate them from this destructive act, even to witness it passively.

In fact, God prohibited Israel from witnessing God’s violence to prevent the violence that is within Israel to be released. Because once that violence is released there is no longer the ability to distinguish between the righteous (the innocent) and the evil (the guilty), and the one who is the defender (the recipient of violence) will become the aggressor (the perpetrator of violence). 

“And all of you should not leave your houses until the morning” (Ex 12:22)….that you should not become the destroyer. This means that by distancing oneself from participating in the vengeance against Egypt one is prevented from unleashing the destroyer (violence) that is within you.”

Maggid adds

One cannot destroy Pharaoh by becoming Pharaoh. Normalcy cannot come at the price of this lesson. Because if it does, Tamares proclaims later in this essay, “all of human civilization is in peril.” A world of Pharaohs is not desirable. Nor sustainable. Violence does not redeem. It only enslaves.

That’s the problem I have with the utterance I hear from some, in the context of the whole Gaza, Israel, Iran thing – there, that’s my one last utterance.

Some say, that in the Middle East it’s a dog eat cat eat goat kind of a place, and the only thing that ‘works’ is the sort of I’m tougher-than-you-and-if-you-come-at-me-I’ll-come-at-you-harder school of life as articulated in the Chad Gadya.

And I have both a Michael Mannekin problem with that – that if I see violence as either justified or criminally unjustified I’m going to contextualise my suffering as entirely without justification and contextualise my violent acts against the other as entirely justified and the outcome is just more violence.

And I have a Aaron Shmuel Tamares problem with that – that if I allow myself to partake in the violence, even, I think, if I become a supporter of that violence, I become the very thing I’m trying to get rid of in this world.

 

For me, there are two reasons I love the song – its politics, its theology – of course I love the animal noises, we all love the animal noises, I’m wrestling with something deeper, I hope than animal noises. I love the story as a cautionary tale and ultimately hopeful.

When I say it’s a cautionary tale, I have in mind the great Israeli poet, Yehuda Amichai who wrote this poem,

 

An Arab shepherd is searching for his goat on Mount Zion

And on the opposite mountain, I am searching

For my little boy.

And Arab shepherd and a Jewish father

Both in their temporary failure.

Our voices meet above the Sultans Pool

In the valley between us. Neither of us wants

the child or the goat to get caught in the wheels

of the terrible Had Gaya machine.

 

תַּהֲלִיךְ

הַמְּכוֹנָה הַנּוֹרָאָה שֶׁל חַד גַּדְיָא

The song, the articulation of the Chad Gadya machine that we all understand all too well is about the necessity of dreaming NOT to call into the Chad Gadya machine. It’s an articulation of a way not to be not to dream.

It’s nursery rhyme as antihero.

The sort of story you share with small children to get them to find a different way to behave. It’s brilliant at doing that. I love that about the song.

And then there is the last line. Chad Gadya comes with a tiny sliver of hope baked in. In the end of the song God comes – Vatah HaKadosh Baruch Hu. The ultimate winner in Chad Gadya isn’t the angel of death. It isn’t ‘brutish, nasty and short,’ it’s God, source of love and compassion triumphing over a world in which – and I have some serieous questions for God too - but God triumphs over the angel of death.

Again, Amichai sees the song, I think, the same way.

אַחַר כָּךְ מָצָאנוּ אוֹתָם בֵּין הַשִֹיחִים

וְקוֹלוֹתֵינוּ חָזְרוּ אֵלֵינוּ וּבָכוּ וְצָחֲקוּ בִּפְנִים.

Afterward we found them among the bushes,

And our voices came back inside us

Laughing and crying.

Chad Gadya is an antihero song, it’s persuading us to look for another way, less our goats and our children fall into the machine again.

Its message is hope.

Unfortunately, I’m not sure we’ve learnt that correctly, we might need to have another go, another seder, tonight.

Chag Sameach



[2] https://juliezuckerman.substack.com/p/pre-passover-special-edition-let?r=qfnu&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAR0mSjsa5BpUzucMDd3qiDf4r5uC2w2embJmJ4M0WQge_sRnmB0ELGVgnro_aem_AZ9DRXM0-YwG6Jyir5ukuqgmxIkFqLbfmH06NOpMuIaRwEgzEgdCrRUdWcaIA4XvyZZMJ0G6gkrV1J1dVRcyRl0H&triedRedirect=true

Friday 19 April 2024

Pesach in a Time of Conflicting Emotions

 


(hat-tip to Rabbi Yael Ridberg for sharing this pic on her FB feed)

For many, and I include myself, the heartbreak felt at the loss of life and liberty of Israelis on and after October 7th, sits alongside pain for the destruction and loss of life visited on Gaza. Over the past six horrid months, I’ve been informed, by some, that I shouldn’t feel the pain for the losses in Gaza and by others that I shouldn’t feel pain for the losses in Israel. There’s a line in Bereishit Rabba that comes to mind. God tells Abraham to “take your son, your only son, the one you love, Isaac.” The Midrash interpolates a conversation, imagining Abraham’s love not only of Isaac but also of Ishmael. “I have two sons,” says Abraham, “They are both the only son of their respective mothers.” And then, in one of the greatest lines in all rabbinics, Abraham utters this rhetorical question – “Eit Techumin BeMayay [roughly translated] Are there limits to my heart?”

 

There are perhaps, surprisingly, many moments for a conflicted heart to find a meeting place in the rituals of Passover.

 

The most obvious is the spilling out of wine as the plagues are chanted. There are other reasons in the tradition, but the one that speaks most clearly to me is that we diminish the wine in our overflowing cups because of the suffering of others. Rabbi Dr. Eduard Baneth (d.1930, Germany) connected this tradition to the tradition of not reciting the full Hallel at the Yom Tov services at the end of Pesach. Those sacred days are associated with the Children of Israel crossing the Sea, but Yalkut Shimoni (Emor, paragraph 654) cites the verse in Proverbs that counsels, "Do not rejoice at the downfall of your enemy" and so only a ‘Half Hallel’ is recited.

 

The eve of Pesach, this year, Monday 22nd April, is the Fast of the Firstborn, another ritual that is predicated on the religious call to experience empathy with, even, enemies. The firstborn of Israel – and I’m one of them – are called to fast in sympathy with their fellow firstborn, murdered by the Angel of Death on that fateful night so many years ago. Traditionally, instead of a fast a Siyum is presented on a Tractate of Talmud. I’ll be teaching this year on the completing Baba Metzia. But as I teach, I’ll be feeling the conflict of a heart. All are welcome to the Siyum, of course, firstborn and otherwise – 8:30am in our regular Zoom room – www.tinyurl.com/nlssalon.

 

Even the very food we eat holds conflict resonance - the bread of affliction is the same as the bread of our freedom. The lettuce - the original bitter herb before horseradish came to the table - was chosen for its combination of both sweetness (the leafier parts) and bitterness (the root-ier parts). The same goes for the Charoset - sweet to eat, bitter in terms of what it reminds us. 

And finally, a tradition that dates back, at least, to a manuscript Haggadah from 1521 Worms. There, alongside the verses “Shfok Chamatcha – Pour out your wrath,” are verses calling on God to “Pour out your love on the nations who call upon your name.” That’s not a call to love those who wish us harm – that’s a different story. But it is an expression of broad heart, even, and perhaps most especially, at our own moments of vainglory.

 

Pesach holds more than an unbridled celebration. Judaism demands more than narrowness. The human heart can feel conflicting emotions at the same time; the pain of the self and the other especially. In fact that might be the very test of the humanity of our heart.


Chag Sameach

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