Editor's Note:
Dear Friend,
Ah! We’ve scrubbed our homes, cooked up a storm, and relived the Exodus through the Seders. Now’s the time to sit back and enjoy our freedom, right?
Wrong.
Now’s when the real work begins.
When the Jews left Egypt, they were a foundling nation, still shrugging off the shackles of slavery. To be sure, they had witnessed wonders and miracles and G‑dly revelation, and they followed Moses into the desert with a firm faith and commitment to G‑d. But in order to truly be ready to accept the Torah, they had to go through a 49-step process of refinement to rid themselves of the slave mentality and embrace their G‑dly mission. They had to take the inspiration of the Exodus and integrate it into their hearts and minds.
And so must we today.
Sefirat HaOmer, the Counting of the Omer, is the way we take our soulful Seder experience and translate it into real personal growth. It’s a time to dig deep, reflect, examine our flaws and refine our characters.
Enjoy the journey!
Sasha Friedman
on behalf of the Chabad.org Editorial Team
P.S. How were your Seders? What was particularly meaningful to you this year? Let us know in the comment section below!
The Long Road of Exodus
Every day since we first set foot from Ramses is another day of leaving Egypt.
As soon as you stop leaving, you are back there again.
-------
This Week's Features
Printable Magazine
-------
Lasting Freedom
A Passover talk of the Rebbe
http://www.chabad.org/therebbe/livingtorah/player_cdo/aid/3296341/jewish/Lasting-Freedom.htm
http://www.chabad.org/3296341Lasting Freedom
Disc 152, Program 607
Event Date: 11 Nissan 5732 - March 26, 1972
Although Passover is called the Season of Our Freedom, when the Jewish people were redeemed from Egypt there was no mention of the matter. Instead, they were told by Moses that they are leaving Egypt to serve G-d.
A Jew’s service of G-d invariably involves struggle and toil to overcome difficulties and obstacles. In truth, however, it is precisely through our own effort and hard work that the eventual reward earns its meaning.
G-d could have delivered everything on a silver platter, but that would be the opposite of true freedom.
-------
Lasting Freedom
A Passover talk of the Rebbe
http://www.chabad.org/therebbe/livingtorah/player_cdo/aid/3296341/jewish/Lasting-Freedom.htm
http://www.chabad.org/3296341Lasting Freedom
Disc 152, Program 607
Event Date: 11 Nissan 5732 - March 26, 1972
Although Passover is called the Season of Our Freedom, when the Jewish people were redeemed from Egypt there was no mention of the matter. Instead, they were told by Moses that they are leaving Egypt to serve G-d.
A Jew’s service of G-d invariably involves struggle and toil to overcome difficulties and obstacles. In truth, however, it is precisely through our own effort and hard work that the eventual reward earns its meaning.
G-d could have delivered everything on a silver platter, but that would be the opposite of true freedom.
-------
What’s So Wise About the Wise Child?
A skit in four parts, with four siblings and four questions. by Tzvi Freeman
Why Does This Child Not Question?
Characters:
Abbie:
Trendy lady in her mid-twenties. Heavily into new-age spirituality, saving the ecosystem and exotic travel.
Sheldon:
Sheldon plays tough, but there’s a soft spot inside for his family.
Tom:
Soft-spoken. Hangs out a lot in nature, thinking deeply.
Shaina:
Big sister personality. Rather conservative and insistent on tradition.
Intro
This is the story of four siblings, Abbie, Sheldon, Tom and Shaina, who sat up the entire night of Passover probing a great mystery: What on earth is so wise about the question of the wise child: “What are the testimonies, the decrees, and the legislation that G‑d, our G‑d, has commanded to you?” (Deuteronomy 6:20)? What does it have to do with Passover? And what is the answer to this mysterious question?
Along the winding path of that stormy journey of discovery, they uncovered one, then another, then yet a third way of understanding this wise child’s question—each more radical and profound than the one before. Finally, through a fourth version, they were enlightened with the ultimate conception of wisdom.
Abbie’s Version
Abbie:
“The Wise Child, what does she ask?”
Sheldon:
That’s the stupidest question I ever heard.
Tom:
It’s deep, very deep. Let her ask it.
Shaina:
Sheldon, it’s not her fault that she’s the youngest, so Mom and Dad always made her go first. And she’s just reading what it says in the Haggadah!
Sheldon:
No, she’s not reading what it says in the Haggadah. She purposely changed son to child and he to she. They call that affirmative action. I call it gender discrimination. Why must the wise child be ashe?
Tom:
Abbie, say it in your own words. Be who you are.
Abbie:
Oh wow, that’s so kewel. I’ll switch to second person: “If you were a wise child, Sheldon, and not a wicked one, and you were sitting here with Mom and Dad absent for the first time, but still with your three very diverse siblings who nevertheless came together on the night of Passover despite the fact that they always quibble about everything, how would you open yourself to the experience of leaving Egypt and transcending the bounds of ego and self-definition again this year?”
Tom:
Deep, very deep.
Abbie:
You would say, “What are the testimonies, the decrees and the legislation that the Eternal, our G‑d, has commanded You?”
Sheldon:
Why? Why would a wise person be interested in such things?
Shaina:
Because that’s what it says in the Haggadah!
Sheldon:
The same dumb question, year after year!
Tom:
You also ask the same thing every year.
Sheldon:
What can I do? They make me ask! But I never get an answer. I get my “teeth dulled.” Abbie gets all the attention and plenty of answers. Which just reinforces her habit of repeating the same dumb question each year, expecting the same response.
Abbie:
Sheldon, I’m really sorry you feel that way. I’m not trying to get attention. I’m not even trying to be wise. They just gave me that label. I really hate being labeled.
Sheldon:
“The Wise Child.” How on earth do you get that label? You openly admit you don't know anything. You don’t even know whatmitzvahs are. Torah is about mitzvahs. So how can someone be called the epitome of Torah wisdom when they don't know the first thing about Torah?
Tom:
It's the way she asks it. The analytical deconstruction of the mitzvah-paradigm into three distinct categories of testimonies, decrees, legislation…
Sheldon:
Intellectual sophistry doesn’t make wisdom. In this case, it’s nothing more than pretentious egocentrism. We were taken out of slavery in Egypt, therefore we do all this stuff. Simple, right? But no, wise, cute little Abbie here wants to know “What’s in it for me? What’s the payback?”
Abbie:
Where do you get that from?
Sheldon:
[yelling] You come right out with it. You say, “that our G‑d commanded you.” “You, not us!”
Shaina:
You say the same thing. Every year. “Why do you guys go through all this bother every year?” That’s what you say.
Sheldon:
And what do I get for it? I’m labeled—three thousand years of labeling. I’m called “wicked.” I’m told I’m a heretic. I’m shunned and dismissed. Like I’m not even part of the story. And what does cute little wise sister get? For exactly the same words? “Oh, such a wise child! Oh, so clever, so sophisticated! She can say le-jiss-lay-shun!”
Abbie:
Sheldon, I really appreciate you coming here year after year. I really do. But I would also like you to appreciate the question they make me ask.
Tom:
It’s deep. It’s profound.
Abbie:
It’s about spirituality. That’s my life quest. I come here year after year seeking it. Seeking wisdom, enlightenment, spiritual ecstasy.
Shaina:
Where? In the horseradish?
Abbie:
That’s just the point! I say I want to transcend my ego and attain true freedom from any spiritual bondage. So they tell me that first I have to buy food with special labels at double the price, matzahs at ten times the price of bread, spend a month removing any trace of leavened ingredients from my home, sell the stuff online, search the house for it and burn the remnants in a fire. I know, I know—I’m supposed to focus on this as a practice of eradication of ego.
So after all this, I come to the seder and I want to share that experience of the ego incinerated in flames, the transcendence of self. I want to chant together, sing entrancing melodies together, light pomegranate-scented candles, sit on memory-foam cushions on the floor and meditate on cosmic oneness. We could hold hands, and together, we will transcend our bodily selves and attain enlightenment…
Shaina:
But, Abbie, we have to say the rest of the Haggadah. And eat thematzah. And drink the four cups of wine.
Abbie:
There it goes. Every time I try to bring in a few minutes of wisdom, someone says, “We have to get on with the seder.” “It’s time to eat the onion dipped in salt-water.” “We can get to the words of wisdom at the meal, after the chicken soup.”
Shaina:
We have to eat the matzah before midnight. And we can’t start until it’s dark.
Abbie:
And then, after the chicken soup, Dad would always push me to hurry the deep wisdom teachings I have collected because “We have to eat the afikoman before midnight!”
Shaina:
Abbie, this is not some New-Age spirituality trip. It’s Judaism. It’s pragmatic, down-to-earth, just-do-it.
Hey, get this: Let’s say someone gets stuck in Reykjavik for Passover. No matzah, no kosher wine, no haggadah. But let’s say this guy has memorized all the kabbalistic meanings of the Passover Seder, including the eating of matzah. So he meditates on that, all night, real deep. Has he done a seder? Has he eaten matzah? No. No mitzvah.
But let’s say some other guy decides he’s not interested in a Passover seder. Let’s say he collects all sorts of bread and sandwiches and he’s decided to eat all those on Passover night. So some fanatic yeshiva boys find out about this, barge into his house, tie him up and force him to eat matzah! Did he do a mitzvah? Yes! Because he ate matzah!
Abbie:
Who says that’s Judaism? We are the children of Abraham andSarah, Isaac and Rebeccah, Jacob, Rachel and Leah. That’s how we began—shepherd-people who sat in the tranquility of theNegev, gazing at the stars all night, meditating upon the oneness of all things, opening our minds to the cosmic oneness and the infinite light that transcends all things. What are we doing spending the most identifying moment of our year obsessing over rote and ritual, gulping down wine and stuffing ourselves with tasteless flat bread that isn’t even gluten free?
Sheldon:
So what’s the answer?
Tom:
You need to dwell on the question. It’s deep.
Abbie:
The answer? The answer is the ultimate paradigm shift. The answer is when I realize that this is the ultimate transcendence of the ego-self, of all material bounds. The answer is that the Infinite Light, if truly infinite, must be found in our material world as well. If we have to ascend from this world to a spiritual realm to reach it, then it’s not infinite. If we can reach it through our own meditation, it’s not the ultimate. We need to find the Infinite and Unbounded here, in the realm of physical sensation, of doing, eating and arguing with siblings.
In the seder, I discover the true infinite, that reaches even as far down as you, Sheldon.
Sheldon:
Cute, but nothing to do with the Exodus. You’re way off.
Shaina:
Okay, Sheldon, now you get to ask your Question of the Wicked Son. I mean, Wicked Child. I mean, um, Morally Challenged Human…
Sheldon:
I’m not morally challenged! I’m here at the seder, for goodness sakes!
Shaina:
Okay, the Question of the Chilled-Out Child. Can you read it now?
Tom:
But he asks good questions. The challenge is good.
Sheldon:
Yeah, like here’s another thing I never got: Why are we thanking G‑d for liberating us from Egypt? Who put us there in the first place?
Shaina:
How about you just add that as part of your question? I mean, we have to keep moving along…
Tom:
Sheldon, it’s deep, very deep. All that bondage in Egypt was meant to shatter the darkness that humanity had created in this world, the ugliness that was not allowing the inner delight of the divine to enter. That’s why we entered Egypt in the first place—to face that darkness in its lair, struggle with it and break its suffocating hold on the divine spark within the human soul. And those open miracles—that was the Infinite Light entering directly into our world.
Abbie:
Wow, this is so cool. We had to struggle with the oppressive darkness of the material world in order that this world can become a divine place. And then, after the Torah is given, we can bring G‑d into the everyday world by doing everyday sorts of things. What a high! A whole paradigm shift! The Infinite Light is everywhere, but it’s up to us to draw that light into the sensations of everyday life. Kewel.
Sheldon:
You got it all wrong. Doesn’t make any sense. And I have four proofs that you’re wrong.
The Sheldon Version
Abbie:
Four?
Sheldon:
Four. First of all, you haven’t explained what’s the deal with excluding yourself from everyone else by saying “G‑d has commanded you.”
Abbie:
Because we’re talking post-Sinai—after the Ten Commandments and all the mitzvahs!
Sheldon:
[shouting again] Then say “that G‑d has commanded us!” Or just “that G‑d has commanded period.” What’s the “you” about?
Abbie:
But…
Sheldon:
Secondly, if your whole question is about rote and ritual just-do-it, so say that. Say, “What’s up with these just-do-it rituals?” But no, you say “testimonies, decrees and legislation”—clearly dividing the mitzvahs by their meanings, not their actions.
Shaina:
That’s just how wise people speak, Sheldon.
Sheldon:
Wisdom, shmisdom. She can’t even get the order right. That’s number three: Decrees mean laws that you just do—as in G‑d says so and that’s it. Testimonies at least have some reason to them—we do them to relive some collective experience of the past.
Shaina:
Yes, like matzah to remember the Exodus. Shabbat to remember the Exodus. Sukkot to remember Divine protection after the Exodus. Usually, it’s an Exodus thing.
Sheldon:
And then legislation is what they call “natural law”—things we would have figured out even if we were never commanded. Like “Don’t steal.” “Don’t murder.” “Honor your mother and father.” “Don’t let your ox—or your Lexus—go gore other people’s oxens or Lexuses.”
Shaina:
How about “Don’t gore your little sister with insults and derision.”
Sheldon:
So little wise sibling here, what has she done? First, she uses terms that clearly indicate she has no problem with rote-ritual. Her whole problem is with spirituality—with what you have to have in mind when doing each of these different kinds of mitzvahs. And even then, she gets the order all wrong! Either put them in order of most reasonable to least reasonable, or the other way around. Her order makes no sense!
Tom:
That’s a good question. The order must have some deep meaning.
Abbie:
That’s three. What’s your fourth problem?
Sheldon:
Proof that you are totally into materialism comes directly from the answer given to you.
Shaina:
All it says here is that Dad is supposed to teach Abbie…
Sheldon:
Not that answer. The answer in the original source, as it’s written in the Torah.
Shaina:
Whoa!
Sheldon:
There, it says you answer this wise kid saying that “G‑d commanded us to keep all these decrees so that we will learn to be in awe of Him.”
Shaina:
Hey, Sheldon, you know your stuff!
Sheldon:
Hey, you gotta be informed to be a heretic! So if that’s what you have to be answered, it means that’s something you don’t know. And you especially don’t know about decrees, which means you can’t imagine anything beyond the grey matter in your own skull. And why? Because you’re so stuck in your self-centered world! Admit it! It’s spiritual hedonism, that’s all. Your yoga is all about body worship. Meditation is cool because that’s what cool people do today. You’re just another bobo, spiritual-coolness junky! But inside, there’s nothing spiritual or transcendental about you!
Abbie:
It’s not true.
Sheldon:
And that’s what’s hiding subliminally inside your question. You make it sound like it’s about “Why the just-do-it? Let’s get spiritual!” Really, without even realizing, you’re asking, “Who needs the spirituality?”
Shaina:
Sheldon, she’s your kid sister. You can’t lay into her like that. Take it easy.
Sheldon:
I’m not laying into her. She’s right. Her question is 100% spot on. She’s saying, “Hey, it’s post-Sinai. We’re no longer seeking out the divine in spirituality. We’re no longer making an absurd attempt to grasp the Creator of the Universe with the two and a half pounds of meat up in our skull. We’ve been handed the G‑d Himself, right here in this matzah, and in this lettuce, and this horseradish, too! So just read the Haggadah, eat the stuff and get on with life!”
Shaina:
What on earth are you talking about?
Sheldon:
That’s the wise child’s question: If we are post-Sinai, we are post-spirituality! Who cares why we’re doing it? Who cares if it’s self-serving or not? Who cares if it’s an irrational decree or if it makes sense? It’s G‑d talking—why should we even bother trying to understand a thing? Do it for ulterior motives. Do it because it you did it yesterday. Do it uninspired, just because you have to. If it’s about the your spiritual feeling it’s about you. The only way for it not to be about you, and to be about G‑d is for it not to be about your feelings. What’s the big deal? G‑d says so, so just do it!
Tom:
So what’s the answer?
Sheldon:
There isn’t one. There’s no spiritual point in spirituality. If it turns you on, cool. But make no mistake about it: It’s just another substance that turns people on. As for mitzvahs, we just do them because G‑d decided He gets a kick out of them and told us to do them.
Shaina:
Doesn’t sound very wise to me.
Abbie:
Sounds mean.
Tom:
Actually, Shaina, Sheldon has a point over here.
Abbie:
You too?
Tom:
He’s just pointed in the wrong direction.
Abbie:
Yeah, Sheldon. Maybe point in someone else’s direction a little.
Tom’s Very Deep Version
Sheldon:
Abbie, I’m not insulting you. I was just, just trying to explain your…
Shaina:
I think Abbie is sincere about her spiritual trippiness. Look, it’s not for everyone, but…
Tom:
Besides which, Sheldon, you asked four questions and you didn’t answer a single one.
Sheldon:
Hey, tonight is about asking questions. I asked. How many questions have you asked?
Shaina:
So maybe, Tom, you can answer.
Tom:
So Abbie says her question is why the whole just-do-it trip if the point is spirituality.
Abbie:
Right.
Tom:
And Sheldon says that Abbie doesn’t realize her question is really the opposite: What’s the point of spirituality when we’re dealing with something so totally beyond us.
Sheldon:
Right. Totally beyond anything you can experience.
Tom:
And I say, you’re both right. Abbie wants to have it all.
Abbie:
Now everyone’s against me.
Shaina:
Abbie, that’s just the way guys talk.
Tom:
No, but it’s true! Abbie has clear evidence that she can have it all!
Abbie:
I can have it all? Yes! I can have it all!
Tom:
Eating this matzah here, she can engage the ultimate, most super-transcendental Essence of Being—way beyond even what Sheldon is talking about, beyond anything spiritual, or anything the highest angel could engage. But also, she can eventually come toexperience that.
Sheldon:
Ridiculous! If you can experience it, it can’t be the real thing. Like that Groucho line— “Any club that would take me as a member is not worth joining.”
Tom:
Generally it’s true. The thing itself and your subjective experience of it can’t be the same. They’re infinitely apart. Because you’re two separate beings
Sheldon:
Right, like having a cake and experiencing eating that cake.
Shaina:
Sheldon! It’s Passover! Don’t mention cake!
Tom:
But that limitation doesn’t apply to the Creator of all things. There is nothing outside of the His Oneness. And the Creator is not just interested in us engaging His core-essence here in our world of action, He wants it to be experiential as well.
Sheldon:
Where’s the proof?
Tom:
Why else would there be different mindsets for different mitzvahs?
Sheldon:
There’s only one mindset: G‑d says. We gotta do it.
Tom:
Then why the whole “testimonies, decrees and legislation” thing?
Sheldon:
Listen, Tom: You and I learned in the same yeshiva. We learned: “You shouldn’t say, ‘I can’t stand pork. I think it stinks.’ Rather, you should say, ‘I would like to eat pork, but what can I do? My heavenly father has decreed I can’t eat the stuff.’” And the same with saying that you don’t want to wear a fancy Italian suit made of wool and linen because wool and linen is itchy. I can even tell you where it is—Sifra, end of Parshat Kiddushin. Heh—and I’m labeled the Wicked Child.
Tom:
So, tell me, you’re supposed to say, “I would love to steal and kill, but what can I do? My heavenly father has decreed it’s not nice?”
Shaina:
That’s ridiculous.
Tom:
Or let’s say you’re visiting someone in the hospital, and they’re so excited to see you. So you say, “Really, I don’t care the slightest about you, but what can I do? G‑d says I have to visit you?”
Sheldon:
Well, that wouldn’t be nice.
Tom:
So you see, different mitzvahs require different mental focus. There are mitzvahs that require a sense of something transcendent of my own understanding—like not eating bacon and forgetting about that Italian suit. And there are mitzvahs that require me to understand and feel in my heart—even to feel love and awe.
Abbie:
Love, awesomeness, beauty, total oneness…
Tom:
And that’s Abbie’s wise question: If all the mitzvahs are expressions of a totally transcendent and infinite will, then how is it possible that we can possibly understand or have a sensitivity for any of them at all? We shouldn’t understand a thing.
Shaina:
Hold on. You mean, “Thou shalt not steal” shouldn’t make sense?
Tom:
If it’s truly infinite wisdom, then how is it possible that it makes sense?
Shaina:
But it makes sense to me.
Tom:
The wonder is that anything makes sense at all. We’re just little critters in a vast universe created by an infinite, unbounded Creator. And these mitzvahs—the matzah, the four cups of wine, the Haggadah—along with don’t steal, honor your parents, love your neighbor—along with don’t eat pork and don’t mix wool with linen—they are the innermost will of the Infinite. So how is it that they make any sense to us?
So it must be that G‑d doesn’t want us to just do. He wants us toexperience as well. So He took His infinite will and packaged it in ways that we can relate to. And that’s Abbie’s question. She gets that G‑d is here now in the words of the Haggadah, the eating of the matzah, drinking the four cups of wine. What she wonders is how it’s possible that we can experience something so totally beyond ourselves.
Abbie:
The seder is totally experiential. It’s a multisensory experience of infinite light. So kewel.
Sheldon:
You’re also not answering any of my questions. What’s with the weird order she put them in? Testimonies, then decrees, then legislation?
Tom:
Simple. That order of testimonies, decrees and legislation—that’s actually the order by which divine energy enters into the cosmos.
Abbie:
Super kewel!
Sheldon:
Here we go. Wake me up when the Kabbalah is over.
Tom:
Don’t need Kabbalah. It’s simple reasoning. Legislation—those are the rules that make sense, right?
Sheldon:
Right.
Tom:
What makes sense about them?
Sheldon:
That they have some sort of utility. Utilitarian law.
Tom:
They create a healthy society, a sustainable world.
Sheldon:
Where are you going with this?
Tom:
So when society is healthy and we’re living in a harmonious world, that’s when the Creator of this world becomes apparent—in that harmony.
Sheldon:
Well, in a very limited sense. We’re not pantheists.
Tom:
Right. We want to tap into something transcendent of nature. So that’s why we have decrees. Those provide a higher context. They say, “Your puny mind is not the measure of all things and your little world is not all that could ever be. There’s is something totally beyond all of that, something you could never conceive.”
Abbie:
Transcendental. Surrendering the ego to the supernal oneness.
Sheldon:
So what are testimonies about then?
Tom:
You only need testimony on something that is hidden. Something you couldn’t ever know about on your own.
Sheldon:
Which is?
Tom:
Not finite. Not infinite. The Absolute.
Shaina:
We don’t drink that on Passover.
Abbie:
Is that like “to infinity and beyond?”
Tom:
Look, when you talk about the Infinite Light and the Unbounded Cosmic Energy, and all those kabbalistic terms—all of them are relative terms. All you’re saying is that there’s something that doesn’t have any of our limitations. But that’s not the ultimate.
Abbie:
What’s the ultimate?
Tom:
The ultimate is not relative to anything. Just is. Absolute reality. And the only way you can know it is if you are it.
Sheldon:
What on earth does anything you’re talking about have to do with testimonial rituals?
Tom:
Because they are beyond decrees.
Sheldon:
That makes no sense.
Abbie:
No, decrees make no sense.
Tom:
Decrees are G‑d saying, “I’m too wise to be understood.” Well, that’s a very relative and compromising stance. You wouldn’t say about an idea that it’s too deep to be touched.
Abbie:
Ideas are spiritual.
Tom:
G‑d is beyond spiritual—He created spiritual and physical, the tangible and the ethereal, ideas and physicality. They’re all the same to Him. So you can’t say about Him that He’s too wise to be understood.
Shaina:
Tom, you should be able to make at least something of what you’re saying understood.
Tom:
So testimonies present G‑d as He is beyond finite and infinite, immanence and transcendence, higher and lower. Testimonies say, “Here’s how I want you to remember leaving Egypt!”
Sheldon:
Eat this super-expensive poor-man’s bread that tastes like cardboard…
Tom:
We would never have come up with it ourselves. But once we’re told, so it sort of makes sense. And that’s way beyond decrees. It’s the Unknowable becoming known. That’s why it’s something we don’t do with our minds. We do it just by being. Our very souls are the breath of G‑d here now.
Abbie:
“The Unknowable becoming known.” I’m into that. It’s not something you do with your mind. It’s just by being who you are. Our souls are testimony to the Unknowable.
Shaina:
But nobody sees that until we’re eating matzah, or some other mitzvah.
Sheldon:
Which we do because we are supposed to do it. Not as some kinda trip.
Tom:
And that’s the order: First the Unknowable enters the universe—through a soul that is testimony to the Unknowable. But then the Unknowable has to become experienced. The first stage of experience is as a transcendent force—as decrees. And then as the very life-force of this world, as legislation that keeps the world going. But inside all that it remains an experience of the Unknowable.
Abbie:
Like a super-spiritual experience?
Tom:
An experience here, now, with your physical eyeballs and your haptic-kinetic-tactile hands. That’s where we do mitzvahs. Why can’t G‑d be experienced in the world of physical sensation—He’s everywhere, isn’t He?
Abbie:
But Tom, I never experienced any of that at a Passover Seder!
Tom:
We’ve got to get to the final step of Exodus to really experience it. Until then, we can only get just a taste.
Shaina:
I think that’s the real question.
Tom:
What’s the real question?
Shaina’s Short & Sweet Version
Sheldon:
She’s gonna say, “When do eat the matzah?” That’s her question.
Shaina:
That we’re not there yet. That’s why she keeps repeating the question year after year.
Abbie:
Well, it says right here in the Haggadah, “In every generation, you have to see yourself as though you left Egypt.” So here I am again, leaving Egypt.
Shaina:
So of course she has the same question all over again. She’s like a newborn child. She just left Egypt and she hasn’t even yet arrived at Mount Sinai. She’s expecting something amazing there. Like all the stuff you guys were talking about.
Sheldon:
So you’re telling me that’s the real reason she says “you” and not “us?” Because she hasn’t gotten there yet?
Tom:
Shaina, how did you come up with that? Brilliant.
Shaina:
When there’s a will, there’s a way. We gotta get on with the Seder.
Abbie:
But when do we get the ultimate experience?
Sheldon:
Tonight, Abbie, tonight.
Abbie:
That’s what Dad always used to say.
Shaina:
But Mom and Dad aren’t here now.
Sheldon:
Look, I never talked with Tom this much in my life. And we’re still sitting here together. If that can happen, Elijah the Prophet can walk in the door any minute.
Abbie:
Hey, that was a totally kewel discussion!
Shaina:
Let’s get on.
Tom:
On to the final Exodus.
Abbie:
The ultimate experience.
What’s So Wise About the Wise Child?
A skit in four parts, with four siblings and four questions. by Tzvi Freeman
Why Does This Child Not Question?
Characters:
Abbie:
Trendy lady in her mid-twenties. Heavily into new-age spirituality, saving the ecosystem and exotic travel.
Sheldon:
Sheldon plays tough, but there’s a soft spot inside for his family.
Tom:
Soft-spoken. Hangs out a lot in nature, thinking deeply.
Shaina:
Big sister personality. Rather conservative and insistent on tradition.
Intro
This is the story of four siblings, Abbie, Sheldon, Tom and Shaina, who sat up the entire night of Passover probing a great mystery: What on earth is so wise about the question of the wise child: “What are the testimonies, the decrees, and the legislation that G‑d, our G‑d, has commanded to you?” (Deuteronomy 6:20)? What does it have to do with Passover? And what is the answer to this mysterious question?
Along the winding path of that stormy journey of discovery, they uncovered one, then another, then yet a third way of understanding this wise child’s question—each more radical and profound than the one before. Finally, through a fourth version, they were enlightened with the ultimate conception of wisdom.
Abbie’s Version
Abbie:
“The Wise Child, what does she ask?”
Sheldon:
That’s the stupidest question I ever heard.
Tom:
It’s deep, very deep. Let her ask it.
Shaina:
Sheldon, it’s not her fault that she’s the youngest, so Mom and Dad always made her go first. And she’s just reading what it says in the Haggadah!
Sheldon:
No, she’s not reading what it says in the Haggadah. She purposely changed son to child and he to she. They call that affirmative action. I call it gender discrimination. Why must the wise child be ashe?
Tom:
Abbie, say it in your own words. Be who you are.
Abbie:
Oh wow, that’s so kewel. I’ll switch to second person: “If you were a wise child, Sheldon, and not a wicked one, and you were sitting here with Mom and Dad absent for the first time, but still with your three very diverse siblings who nevertheless came together on the night of Passover despite the fact that they always quibble about everything, how would you open yourself to the experience of leaving Egypt and transcending the bounds of ego and self-definition again this year?”
Tom:
Deep, very deep.
Abbie:
You would say, “What are the testimonies, the decrees and the legislation that the Eternal, our G‑d, has commanded You?”
Sheldon:
Why? Why would a wise person be interested in such things?
Shaina:
Because that’s what it says in the Haggadah!
Sheldon:
The same dumb question, year after year!
Tom:
You also ask the same thing every year.
Sheldon:
What can I do? They make me ask! But I never get an answer. I get my “teeth dulled.” Abbie gets all the attention and plenty of answers. Which just reinforces her habit of repeating the same dumb question each year, expecting the same response.
Abbie:
Sheldon, I’m really sorry you feel that way. I’m not trying to get attention. I’m not even trying to be wise. They just gave me that label. I really hate being labeled.
Sheldon:
“The Wise Child.” How on earth do you get that label? You openly admit you don't know anything. You don’t even know whatmitzvahs are. Torah is about mitzvahs. So how can someone be called the epitome of Torah wisdom when they don't know the first thing about Torah?
Tom:
It's the way she asks it. The analytical deconstruction of the mitzvah-paradigm into three distinct categories of testimonies, decrees, legislation…
Sheldon:
Intellectual sophistry doesn’t make wisdom. In this case, it’s nothing more than pretentious egocentrism. We were taken out of slavery in Egypt, therefore we do all this stuff. Simple, right? But no, wise, cute little Abbie here wants to know “What’s in it for me? What’s the payback?”
Abbie:
Where do you get that from?
Sheldon:
[yelling] You come right out with it. You say, “that our G‑d commanded you.” “You, not us!”
Shaina:
You say the same thing. Every year. “Why do you guys go through all this bother every year?” That’s what you say.
Sheldon:
And what do I get for it? I’m labeled—three thousand years of labeling. I’m called “wicked.” I’m told I’m a heretic. I’m shunned and dismissed. Like I’m not even part of the story. And what does cute little wise sister get? For exactly the same words? “Oh, such a wise child! Oh, so clever, so sophisticated! She can say le-jiss-lay-shun!”
Abbie:
Sheldon, I really appreciate you coming here year after year. I really do. But I would also like you to appreciate the question they make me ask.
Tom:
It’s deep. It’s profound.
Abbie:
It’s about spirituality. That’s my life quest. I come here year after year seeking it. Seeking wisdom, enlightenment, spiritual ecstasy.
Shaina:
Where? In the horseradish?
Abbie:
That’s just the point! I say I want to transcend my ego and attain true freedom from any spiritual bondage. So they tell me that first I have to buy food with special labels at double the price, matzahs at ten times the price of bread, spend a month removing any trace of leavened ingredients from my home, sell the stuff online, search the house for it and burn the remnants in a fire. I know, I know—I’m supposed to focus on this as a practice of eradication of ego.
So after all this, I come to the seder and I want to share that experience of the ego incinerated in flames, the transcendence of self. I want to chant together, sing entrancing melodies together, light pomegranate-scented candles, sit on memory-foam cushions on the floor and meditate on cosmic oneness. We could hold hands, and together, we will transcend our bodily selves and attain enlightenment…
Shaina:
But, Abbie, we have to say the rest of the Haggadah. And eat thematzah. And drink the four cups of wine.
Abbie:
There it goes. Every time I try to bring in a few minutes of wisdom, someone says, “We have to get on with the seder.” “It’s time to eat the onion dipped in salt-water.” “We can get to the words of wisdom at the meal, after the chicken soup.”
Shaina:
We have to eat the matzah before midnight. And we can’t start until it’s dark.
Abbie:
And then, after the chicken soup, Dad would always push me to hurry the deep wisdom teachings I have collected because “We have to eat the afikoman before midnight!”
Shaina:
Abbie, this is not some New-Age spirituality trip. It’s Judaism. It’s pragmatic, down-to-earth, just-do-it.
Hey, get this: Let’s say someone gets stuck in Reykjavik for Passover. No matzah, no kosher wine, no haggadah. But let’s say this guy has memorized all the kabbalistic meanings of the Passover Seder, including the eating of matzah. So he meditates on that, all night, real deep. Has he done a seder? Has he eaten matzah? No. No mitzvah.
But let’s say some other guy decides he’s not interested in a Passover seder. Let’s say he collects all sorts of bread and sandwiches and he’s decided to eat all those on Passover night. So some fanatic yeshiva boys find out about this, barge into his house, tie him up and force him to eat matzah! Did he do a mitzvah? Yes! Because he ate matzah!
Abbie:
Who says that’s Judaism? We are the children of Abraham andSarah, Isaac and Rebeccah, Jacob, Rachel and Leah. That’s how we began—shepherd-people who sat in the tranquility of theNegev, gazing at the stars all night, meditating upon the oneness of all things, opening our minds to the cosmic oneness and the infinite light that transcends all things. What are we doing spending the most identifying moment of our year obsessing over rote and ritual, gulping down wine and stuffing ourselves with tasteless flat bread that isn’t even gluten free?
Sheldon:
So what’s the answer?
Tom:
You need to dwell on the question. It’s deep.
Abbie:
The answer? The answer is the ultimate paradigm shift. The answer is when I realize that this is the ultimate transcendence of the ego-self, of all material bounds. The answer is that the Infinite Light, if truly infinite, must be found in our material world as well. If we have to ascend from this world to a spiritual realm to reach it, then it’s not infinite. If we can reach it through our own meditation, it’s not the ultimate. We need to find the Infinite and Unbounded here, in the realm of physical sensation, of doing, eating and arguing with siblings.
In the seder, I discover the true infinite, that reaches even as far down as you, Sheldon.
Sheldon:
Cute, but nothing to do with the Exodus. You’re way off.
Shaina:
Okay, Sheldon, now you get to ask your Question of the Wicked Son. I mean, Wicked Child. I mean, um, Morally Challenged Human…
Sheldon:
I’m not morally challenged! I’m here at the seder, for goodness sakes!
Shaina:
Okay, the Question of the Chilled-Out Child. Can you read it now?
Tom:
But he asks good questions. The challenge is good.
Sheldon:
Yeah, like here’s another thing I never got: Why are we thanking G‑d for liberating us from Egypt? Who put us there in the first place?
Shaina:
How about you just add that as part of your question? I mean, we have to keep moving along…
Tom:
Sheldon, it’s deep, very deep. All that bondage in Egypt was meant to shatter the darkness that humanity had created in this world, the ugliness that was not allowing the inner delight of the divine to enter. That’s why we entered Egypt in the first place—to face that darkness in its lair, struggle with it and break its suffocating hold on the divine spark within the human soul. And those open miracles—that was the Infinite Light entering directly into our world.
Abbie:
Wow, this is so cool. We had to struggle with the oppressive darkness of the material world in order that this world can become a divine place. And then, after the Torah is given, we can bring G‑d into the everyday world by doing everyday sorts of things. What a high! A whole paradigm shift! The Infinite Light is everywhere, but it’s up to us to draw that light into the sensations of everyday life. Kewel.
Sheldon:
You got it all wrong. Doesn’t make any sense. And I have four proofs that you’re wrong.
The Sheldon Version
Abbie:
Four?
Sheldon:
Four. First of all, you haven’t explained what’s the deal with excluding yourself from everyone else by saying “G‑d has commanded you.”
Abbie:
Because we’re talking post-Sinai—after the Ten Commandments and all the mitzvahs!
Sheldon:
[shouting again] Then say “that G‑d has commanded us!” Or just “that G‑d has commanded period.” What’s the “you” about?
Abbie:
But…
Sheldon:
Secondly, if your whole question is about rote and ritual just-do-it, so say that. Say, “What’s up with these just-do-it rituals?” But no, you say “testimonies, decrees and legislation”—clearly dividing the mitzvahs by their meanings, not their actions.
Shaina:
That’s just how wise people speak, Sheldon.
Sheldon:
Wisdom, shmisdom. She can’t even get the order right. That’s number three: Decrees mean laws that you just do—as in G‑d says so and that’s it. Testimonies at least have some reason to them—we do them to relive some collective experience of the past.
Shaina:
Yes, like matzah to remember the Exodus. Shabbat to remember the Exodus. Sukkot to remember Divine protection after the Exodus. Usually, it’s an Exodus thing.
Sheldon:
And then legislation is what they call “natural law”—things we would have figured out even if we were never commanded. Like “Don’t steal.” “Don’t murder.” “Honor your mother and father.” “Don’t let your ox—or your Lexus—go gore other people’s oxens or Lexuses.”
Shaina:
How about “Don’t gore your little sister with insults and derision.”
Sheldon:
So little wise sibling here, what has she done? First, she uses terms that clearly indicate she has no problem with rote-ritual. Her whole problem is with spirituality—with what you have to have in mind when doing each of these different kinds of mitzvahs. And even then, she gets the order all wrong! Either put them in order of most reasonable to least reasonable, or the other way around. Her order makes no sense!
Tom:
That’s a good question. The order must have some deep meaning.
Abbie:
That’s three. What’s your fourth problem?
Sheldon:
Proof that you are totally into materialism comes directly from the answer given to you.
Shaina:
All it says here is that Dad is supposed to teach Abbie…
Sheldon:
Not that answer. The answer in the original source, as it’s written in the Torah.
Shaina:
Whoa!
Sheldon:
There, it says you answer this wise kid saying that “G‑d commanded us to keep all these decrees so that we will learn to be in awe of Him.”
Shaina:
Hey, Sheldon, you know your stuff!
Sheldon:
Hey, you gotta be informed to be a heretic! So if that’s what you have to be answered, it means that’s something you don’t know. And you especially don’t know about decrees, which means you can’t imagine anything beyond the grey matter in your own skull. And why? Because you’re so stuck in your self-centered world! Admit it! It’s spiritual hedonism, that’s all. Your yoga is all about body worship. Meditation is cool because that’s what cool people do today. You’re just another bobo, spiritual-coolness junky! But inside, there’s nothing spiritual or transcendental about you!
Abbie:
It’s not true.
Sheldon:
And that’s what’s hiding subliminally inside your question. You make it sound like it’s about “Why the just-do-it? Let’s get spiritual!” Really, without even realizing, you’re asking, “Who needs the spirituality?”
Shaina:
Sheldon, she’s your kid sister. You can’t lay into her like that. Take it easy.
Sheldon:
I’m not laying into her. She’s right. Her question is 100% spot on. She’s saying, “Hey, it’s post-Sinai. We’re no longer seeking out the divine in spirituality. We’re no longer making an absurd attempt to grasp the Creator of the Universe with the two and a half pounds of meat up in our skull. We’ve been handed the G‑d Himself, right here in this matzah, and in this lettuce, and this horseradish, too! So just read the Haggadah, eat the stuff and get on with life!”
Shaina:
What on earth are you talking about?
Sheldon:
That’s the wise child’s question: If we are post-Sinai, we are post-spirituality! Who cares why we’re doing it? Who cares if it’s self-serving or not? Who cares if it’s an irrational decree or if it makes sense? It’s G‑d talking—why should we even bother trying to understand a thing? Do it for ulterior motives. Do it because it you did it yesterday. Do it uninspired, just because you have to. If it’s about the your spiritual feeling it’s about you. The only way for it not to be about you, and to be about G‑d is for it not to be about your feelings. What’s the big deal? G‑d says so, so just do it!
Tom:
So what’s the answer?
Sheldon:
There isn’t one. There’s no spiritual point in spirituality. If it turns you on, cool. But make no mistake about it: It’s just another substance that turns people on. As for mitzvahs, we just do them because G‑d decided He gets a kick out of them and told us to do them.
Shaina:
Doesn’t sound very wise to me.
Abbie:
Sounds mean.
Tom:
Actually, Shaina, Sheldon has a point over here.
Abbie:
You too?
Tom:
He’s just pointed in the wrong direction.
Abbie:
Yeah, Sheldon. Maybe point in someone else’s direction a little.
Tom’s Very Deep Version
Sheldon:
Abbie, I’m not insulting you. I was just, just trying to explain your…
Shaina:
I think Abbie is sincere about her spiritual trippiness. Look, it’s not for everyone, but…
Tom:
Besides which, Sheldon, you asked four questions and you didn’t answer a single one.
Sheldon:
Hey, tonight is about asking questions. I asked. How many questions have you asked?
Shaina:
So maybe, Tom, you can answer.
Tom:
So Abbie says her question is why the whole just-do-it trip if the point is spirituality.
Abbie:
Right.
Tom:
And Sheldon says that Abbie doesn’t realize her question is really the opposite: What’s the point of spirituality when we’re dealing with something so totally beyond us.
Sheldon:
Right. Totally beyond anything you can experience.
Tom:
And I say, you’re both right. Abbie wants to have it all.
Abbie:
Now everyone’s against me.
Shaina:
Abbie, that’s just the way guys talk.
Tom:
No, but it’s true! Abbie has clear evidence that she can have it all!
Abbie:
I can have it all? Yes! I can have it all!
Tom:
Eating this matzah here, she can engage the ultimate, most super-transcendental Essence of Being—way beyond even what Sheldon is talking about, beyond anything spiritual, or anything the highest angel could engage. But also, she can eventually come toexperience that.
Sheldon:
Ridiculous! If you can experience it, it can’t be the real thing. Like that Groucho line— “Any club that would take me as a member is not worth joining.”
Tom:
Generally it’s true. The thing itself and your subjective experience of it can’t be the same. They’re infinitely apart. Because you’re two separate beings
Sheldon:
Right, like having a cake and experiencing eating that cake.
Shaina:
Sheldon! It’s Passover! Don’t mention cake!
Tom:
But that limitation doesn’t apply to the Creator of all things. There is nothing outside of the His Oneness. And the Creator is not just interested in us engaging His core-essence here in our world of action, He wants it to be experiential as well.
Sheldon:
Where’s the proof?
Tom:
Why else would there be different mindsets for different mitzvahs?
Sheldon:
There’s only one mindset: G‑d says. We gotta do it.
Tom:
Then why the whole “testimonies, decrees and legislation” thing?
Sheldon:
Listen, Tom: You and I learned in the same yeshiva. We learned: “You shouldn’t say, ‘I can’t stand pork. I think it stinks.’ Rather, you should say, ‘I would like to eat pork, but what can I do? My heavenly father has decreed I can’t eat the stuff.’” And the same with saying that you don’t want to wear a fancy Italian suit made of wool and linen because wool and linen is itchy. I can even tell you where it is—Sifra, end of Parshat Kiddushin. Heh—and I’m labeled the Wicked Child.
Tom:
So, tell me, you’re supposed to say, “I would love to steal and kill, but what can I do? My heavenly father has decreed it’s not nice?”
Shaina:
That’s ridiculous.
Tom:
Or let’s say you’re visiting someone in the hospital, and they’re so excited to see you. So you say, “Really, I don’t care the slightest about you, but what can I do? G‑d says I have to visit you?”
Sheldon:
Well, that wouldn’t be nice.
Tom:
So you see, different mitzvahs require different mental focus. There are mitzvahs that require a sense of something transcendent of my own understanding—like not eating bacon and forgetting about that Italian suit. And there are mitzvahs that require me to understand and feel in my heart—even to feel love and awe.
Abbie:
Love, awesomeness, beauty, total oneness…
Tom:
And that’s Abbie’s wise question: If all the mitzvahs are expressions of a totally transcendent and infinite will, then how is it possible that we can possibly understand or have a sensitivity for any of them at all? We shouldn’t understand a thing.
Shaina:
Hold on. You mean, “Thou shalt not steal” shouldn’t make sense?
Tom:
If it’s truly infinite wisdom, then how is it possible that it makes sense?
Shaina:
But it makes sense to me.
Tom:
The wonder is that anything makes sense at all. We’re just little critters in a vast universe created by an infinite, unbounded Creator. And these mitzvahs—the matzah, the four cups of wine, the Haggadah—along with don’t steal, honor your parents, love your neighbor—along with don’t eat pork and don’t mix wool with linen—they are the innermost will of the Infinite. So how is it that they make any sense to us?
So it must be that G‑d doesn’t want us to just do. He wants us toexperience as well. So He took His infinite will and packaged it in ways that we can relate to. And that’s Abbie’s question. She gets that G‑d is here now in the words of the Haggadah, the eating of the matzah, drinking the four cups of wine. What she wonders is how it’s possible that we can experience something so totally beyond ourselves.
Abbie:
The seder is totally experiential. It’s a multisensory experience of infinite light. So kewel.
Sheldon:
You’re also not answering any of my questions. What’s with the weird order she put them in? Testimonies, then decrees, then legislation?
Tom:
Simple. That order of testimonies, decrees and legislation—that’s actually the order by which divine energy enters into the cosmos.
Abbie:
Super kewel!
Sheldon:
Here we go. Wake me up when the Kabbalah is over.
Tom:
Don’t need Kabbalah. It’s simple reasoning. Legislation—those are the rules that make sense, right?
Sheldon:
Right.
Tom:
What makes sense about them?
Sheldon:
That they have some sort of utility. Utilitarian law.
Tom:
They create a healthy society, a sustainable world.
Sheldon:
Where are you going with this?
Tom:
So when society is healthy and we’re living in a harmonious world, that’s when the Creator of this world becomes apparent—in that harmony.
Sheldon:
Well, in a very limited sense. We’re not pantheists.
Tom:
Right. We want to tap into something transcendent of nature. So that’s why we have decrees. Those provide a higher context. They say, “Your puny mind is not the measure of all things and your little world is not all that could ever be. There’s is something totally beyond all of that, something you could never conceive.”
Abbie:
Transcendental. Surrendering the ego to the supernal oneness.
Sheldon:
So what are testimonies about then?
Tom:
You only need testimony on something that is hidden. Something you couldn’t ever know about on your own.
Sheldon:
Which is?
Tom:
Not finite. Not infinite. The Absolute.
Shaina:
We don’t drink that on Passover.
Abbie:
Is that like “to infinity and beyond?”
Tom:
Look, when you talk about the Infinite Light and the Unbounded Cosmic Energy, and all those kabbalistic terms—all of them are relative terms. All you’re saying is that there’s something that doesn’t have any of our limitations. But that’s not the ultimate.
Abbie:
What’s the ultimate?
Tom:
The ultimate is not relative to anything. Just is. Absolute reality. And the only way you can know it is if you are it.
Sheldon:
What on earth does anything you’re talking about have to do with testimonial rituals?
Tom:
Because they are beyond decrees.
Sheldon:
That makes no sense.
Abbie:
No, decrees make no sense.
Tom:
Decrees are G‑d saying, “I’m too wise to be understood.” Well, that’s a very relative and compromising stance. You wouldn’t say about an idea that it’s too deep to be touched.
Abbie:
Ideas are spiritual.
Tom:
G‑d is beyond spiritual—He created spiritual and physical, the tangible and the ethereal, ideas and physicality. They’re all the same to Him. So you can’t say about Him that He’s too wise to be understood.
Shaina:
Tom, you should be able to make at least something of what you’re saying understood.
Tom:
So testimonies present G‑d as He is beyond finite and infinite, immanence and transcendence, higher and lower. Testimonies say, “Here’s how I want you to remember leaving Egypt!”
Sheldon:
Eat this super-expensive poor-man’s bread that tastes like cardboard…
Tom:
We would never have come up with it ourselves. But once we’re told, so it sort of makes sense. And that’s way beyond decrees. It’s the Unknowable becoming known. That’s why it’s something we don’t do with our minds. We do it just by being. Our very souls are the breath of G‑d here now.
Abbie:
“The Unknowable becoming known.” I’m into that. It’s not something you do with your mind. It’s just by being who you are. Our souls are testimony to the Unknowable.
Shaina:
But nobody sees that until we’re eating matzah, or some other mitzvah.
Sheldon:
Which we do because we are supposed to do it. Not as some kinda trip.
Tom:
And that’s the order: First the Unknowable enters the universe—through a soul that is testimony to the Unknowable. But then the Unknowable has to become experienced. The first stage of experience is as a transcendent force—as decrees. And then as the very life-force of this world, as legislation that keeps the world going. But inside all that it remains an experience of the Unknowable.
Abbie:
Like a super-spiritual experience?
Tom:
An experience here, now, with your physical eyeballs and your haptic-kinetic-tactile hands. That’s where we do mitzvahs. Why can’t G‑d be experienced in the world of physical sensation—He’s everywhere, isn’t He?
Abbie:
But Tom, I never experienced any of that at a Passover Seder!
Tom:
We’ve got to get to the final step of Exodus to really experience it. Until then, we can only get just a taste.
Shaina:
I think that’s the real question.
Tom:
What’s the real question?
Shaina’s Short & Sweet Version
Sheldon:
She’s gonna say, “When do eat the matzah?” That’s her question.
Shaina:
That we’re not there yet. That’s why she keeps repeating the question year after year.
Abbie:
Well, it says right here in the Haggadah, “In every generation, you have to see yourself as though you left Egypt.” So here I am again, leaving Egypt.
Shaina:
So of course she has the same question all over again. She’s like a newborn child. She just left Egypt and she hasn’t even yet arrived at Mount Sinai. She’s expecting something amazing there. Like all the stuff you guys were talking about.
Sheldon:
So you’re telling me that’s the real reason she says “you” and not “us?” Because she hasn’t gotten there yet?
Tom:
Shaina, how did you come up with that? Brilliant.
Shaina:
When there’s a will, there’s a way. We gotta get on with the Seder.
Abbie:
But when do we get the ultimate experience?
Sheldon:
Tonight, Abbie, tonight.
Abbie:
That’s what Dad always used to say.
Shaina:
But Mom and Dad aren’t here now.
Sheldon:
Look, I never talked with Tom this much in my life. And we’re still sitting here together. If that can happen, Elijah the Prophet can walk in the door any minute.
Abbie:
Hey, that was a totally kewel discussion!
Shaina:
Let’s get on.
Tom:
On to the final Exodus.
Abbie:
The ultimate experience.
-------
8TH DAY OF PASSOVER: LOOKING TOWARD MOSHIACH
Moses Returns
So let’s say Moses turns up today. What would he liberate us from? What sort of miracles would he make this time around? by Tzvi Freeman
So let’s say Moses turns up today. He’s a teacher. He’s a liberator. He’s the greatest prophet of history, and no one makes miracles like Moses.Moses Returns
So let’s say Moses turns up today. What would he liberate us from? What sort of miracles would he make this time around? by Tzvi Freeman
What would he liberate us from? What sort of miracles would he make this time around? Questions such as these kept popping into my mind, along with Moses’s possible responses…
Me: So, Moses, it’s very exciting to have you back again. Last time around you pulled off a groundbreaking feat of civil rights, emancipating slaves—an historical first! But you went way beyond that, educating them, forging them into a commonwealth society and bringing them to their own land. Who else ever changed the course of history as you did? It’s hard to imagine there would be any concept of human rights or liberty today without you. So what’s up now?
Moses: Well, Tzvi, I think nowNow we need something much more radical and disruptive. we need something much more radical and disruptive.
Me: Like taking on political suppression and torture in China and North Korea? Women’s rights in Saudi Arabia? Saving the Blue Whale, the Amazon Rain Forest and fixing the global climate-change mess?
Moses: Those are important, but they’re really only symptoms of a much greater problem. We’ve got to get down to core issues.
Me: Core issues? Hey, we’ve taken care of a lot of those lately. The world is at 80% literacy today; extreme poverty cut by more than half in the past twenty years; infant mortality rates at rock bottom worldwide, and all the knowledge in the world available to every village tribesperson in the palm of their hand. What other core issues do you want addressed?
Moses: All that tells you one thing: The world is ready today for something transformational. The ultimate paradigm shift. Something that changes everything.
Me: Well, that’s certainly what you did in Egypt. Talk about transformational —introducing freedom into a world of egomaniacal demagogues, forging an entire people that has lasted over 3300 years, and hey—those plagues! Miracles! Wonders! Total disruption of the entire order of nature! You had Pharaoh’s research team in total disarray!
Moses: They never published a single paper on any of it. Not a single journal would accept one.
Me: But it’s public record! The researchers admitted, “This is the finger ofG‑d.”
Moses: And then what? They see a miracle, they say “What the heck …” and then a day or so passes and they’re back to attributing it to natural causes.
Me: But the people, I mean us, you know, the Children of Israel…
Moses: Even they didn’t really get it.
Me: They followed you into the wilderness.
Moses: Yes. They were ripe for freedom. And they had faith. Amazing, the faith that they had. But cognitively speaking—I mean, integrating the experience into their lifestyle, reframing their self-concept and their concept of the world around them—it just didn’t do the job.
Me: I need a for-instance.
Moses: Do you know what kvetches they were?
Me: Okay, I’m getting it. You’re talking like the cognitive reframing type of thing?
The Problem With Miracles
Moses: Right. That’s the whole problem with miracles.That’s the whole problem with miracles. It’s all a big wow-bubble. You can walk away from an open miracle and continue life just the same as before. And the reason is obvious: There’s no cognition. It’s all a big wow-bubble—and it pops as fast as it appears.
Me: So you need to educate…
Moses: Tzvi, I spent 40 years educating them in Sinai. I worked hard to bring them to the point where they would reframe their entire concept of what it means to be alive, to be in a world, to think, “what is a world, anyways?” I wanted them to see, not just understand. That’s why I brought them to Mount Sinai in the first place.
Me: They didn’t see what you wanted them to see there?
Moses: Lasted 45 seconds. And then they came crying, “Please! We can’t handle it! You go find out what He wants and come back and tell us!”
Me: And 40 years later…
Moses: Forty years of eating manna, living miraculously day-by-day—all that still couldn’t bring them to realign their perception of reality. They understood. They could repeat and explain clearly everything I taught. But, look, when you’re living in a meat-and-bones body surrounded by a tangible world, your reality begins with “Well, I’m here. This world is here.” And only then do you also recognize there is something beyond all that—a higher context. But, outside of a handful of exceptional individuals, it never becomes as real as the “I’m here, this world is here” reality.
Me: Wait, how about miracles that happen in a natural way? Like Purim. TheMaccabee revolt. Six-Day War. Entebbe rescue. Fall of Communism and the liberation of Russian Jewry. People have a much better handle on those ones.
Moses: Those are happening all around us. And, when you think of it, they are the greatest of miracles.
Me: Not as great as splitting the sea or fireballs of ice falling from heaven.
Moses: Way greater. To make an open miracle, you just need to fiddle around with the inner workings of the cosmos and push natural law to the side. Piece of cake. For a natural miracle, you have to keep the restrictions of natural law intact while driving them along with a totally unrestricted agenda. In other words, G‑d gets whatever He wants without breaking any of the rules. That’s an unlimited force within a limited system. Find something more amazing than that.
Me: So those are good. Maybe we need more…
Moses: And what do people say? They say, “Oh, that was neat. Everything worked out in the end.” Maybe even, “Thank G‑d.” And they go back to business as usual. They just saw something in their own lives that should have shaken to the core every concept they have of reality. But no, nothing changes.
Me: So in natural miracles, they understand the whole sequence of events. They do get it.
Moses: Right. But they don’t see the miracle.
Me: So it’s one of two: Either they see the miracle, but it makes no sense to them so they don’t cognate a thing; or they get how it all works, but they don’t see the miracle. In other words, you’re saying the miracle path is ineffective.
Moses: Not necessarily. I’m saying that we can’t just do a repeat and expect better results this time.
Reframing the World
Me: But there will be miracles. You can’t let us down. There are clearly recorded prophecies of miracles that are read every year in synagogues everywhere. Like the one about splitting the Euphrates into seven streams—that's going to make splitting the Red Sea look like a rabbit-out-of-a-hat trick. Then there’s the wolf-lamb symbiosis thing. And resurrection of the dead isn’t exactly standard medical procedure. I’m sure you’ll have a major piece of the action with all those miracles.
Moses: Listen carefully:The point is not the miracles. The point isseeing the miracles. The point is not the miracles. The point is seeingthe miracles. Really getting what’s going on in a miracle. Talk about prophets—Michah said it: “As the days when you left Egypt, I will show them wonders.” (Micah 7:15) Not makewonders. Show wonders. Bring the wondrous into the realm of human perception and cognition.
Me: Hey, I never noticed that nuance there…
Moses: And once that happens—the entire mindset of the world shifts. None of the evils you see around you could possibly continue to exist. When you really get—like, totally cognate to the point that your physical eyes see—that your own existence is sustained moment by moment out of pure divine love, with purpose and meaning, so you’re totally humbled by that. When you see the world as a divine creation over which you’ve been assigned stewardship, you don’t go pumping toxins into its arteries and lungs. When you see clearly, really digest and absorb, what a miracle life really is and how each individual is an entire world, you respect those lives, you treat them with dignity.
Me: So we need people to both see the miracle and get it too. I just didn’t know that it’s possible to “get” a miracle. I thought they’re inherently wondrous and that’s it.
Moses: They’re only impossible to get if you’re stuck up with your closed-system world model that doesn’t allow in wonder without having to dissect it to death. As soon as you see the world as a creation, renewed out of the void at every moment by a transcendent consciousness, then miracles are totally gettable.
Me: Then this is not going to work. People are hyper-materialistic today, Moses. There’s matter, there’s energy, a couple of laws of physics, and that explains everything. Talk about consciousness, transcendence—never mind G‑d—and you’ve lost them.
Beyond Glowing Pixels
Moses: So they’ve abandoned all the deities of the ancestors. They’re seeking a oneness throughout the universe. That’s good. Less idols to smash. Now, when they see sustained, observable miracles that they’re going to have to take seriously, they’ll have to reconsider their paradigm. They’ll realize that the matter-and-energy reductionist model is as deep as Mario reducing his world to glowing pixels. They’ll see that there’s a sublimely higher consciousness behind that energy and matter. It will become empirically undeniable.
Me: And you think it will get published?
Moses: The world is ready. Every miracle that has happened since Egypt has subliminally prepared the world a little more. And these mitzvah things, they are also subversive strategies—like miracles in people’s hands. They were planted in the world so that people would slowly chip away at the façade of a closed-system universe from the inside. And especially when Jews are challenged by their environment and yet persist in these mitzvahs against all odds, they drastically weaken the stranglehold of the so-called laws of nature. Take a look: The very existence of Jews today is totally supernatural. That’s a tough one to deny.
Me: So getting back to your strategy…
Moses: Two things will happen. People will see these wonders that will make the Egypt–Exodus miracles look like card tricks, and they will understand that there is a higher consciousness to the universe, a singular substrate to all existence. They’ll approach it as a science.
Me: Cognition. But kind of pantheistic.
Moses: Then they’ll have to reframe all of science within this new paradigm, so that they will see that space-time, matter and energy fields are just artifacts of that deeper singularity. They don’t really have any existence of their own.
Me: So now they’ll have gotten a totally transcendent idea. The Creator, totally beyond the creation.
Moses: No. Not completely. Not until they recognize the ultimate wonder—those miracles that are sewn seamlessly into physics. Because that’s where you see a G‑d who is so totally boundless that He can operate freely within any bounds.
Me: So everything will be understood. All the wonders. You’ll reduce it all to textbook material. Trivia. What will be left to wonder about?
Moses: There’s always more and more wonder. The larger the island of your understanding, the greater the perimeter of your beach to the endless sea of wonder. And besides, the truly great wonder will not be the miracles, the prophecies or the wonders.The truly great wonder will be that there is a world. The truly great wonder will be that there is a world.
Me: Hey, I can imagine having to deal with people who get miracles, but deny the world exists—sort of the inverse of atheists.
Moses: But the normal, default experience will be to see that there is really nothing else but a Singularity that transcends all bounds, and that Singularity is the truth of all that exists.
Me: So when is this all happening? How soon?
Moses: It’s late already. Real late. Let’s start now.
Based on the Maamarim Kimei Tzeitcha of 5712 and 5738.
-------
5 Lessons from The Great Escape Room
Why has this form of entertainment become so popular in cities everywhere? by Lieba Rudolph
Why has this form of entertainment become so popular in cities everywhere? The answer, in a word, is adrenaline. We left The Great Escape Room a while ago, but now, any time I feel like it, I can recreate the rush I felt as we solved each of the four puzzles. It’s a feeling I could easily get used to.
I quickly realized that The Great Escape Room was a good parable for my G‑dly service on a number of levels.
Here’s how:
1. Time is of the essence.
Solving all the puzzles in an hour meant focusing only on the clues that mattered. This singularity of focus is also my optimal mode for functioning as a Jew. The more I act in a G‑dly way now, with enthusiasm, the more it shows my eagerness for Moshiach to come now. Questions like “What’s taking so long?” or “Why is it so difficult?” aren’t relevant to my mission right now. Learning Torah and doing mitzvahs are what move the Redemption forward, period.
2. Work with collaborators; smile at sideliners.
The room contained too many puzzles, too many problems and too many people for anyone to work alone. Once we had answers to the puzzles, it was hard to remember who had done what. And it didn’t matter; we were all thrilled. And everyone’s input helped. Well, almost. A few people preferred to sit at the side of the room and watch.
Spiritually speaking, there are Jews who sit on the sidelines, too. And it’s important for me to remember that I can’t convince other Jews to participate in Torah life. The best way to attract others is for them to see me enjoying the game, i.e., serving G‑d with joy.
3. Trust that there’s an answer.
We trusted that the creators of The Great Escape Room had answers for all the puzzles. There were no mistakes. We just had to keep trying until we figured everything out. Similarly, I trust that G‑d’s perfect clues for solving all the mysteries of the world are in the Torah. His clues may be challenging to decipher sometimes; nonetheless, I am confident that G‑d created the entire world, and my specific world, with intention. Just like the Escape Room’s monitors shared a few hints, G‑d also intervenes to help me find answers.
4. Am I missing a clue?
At the outset, our game monitors told us where not to look for clues (in a certain corner, on the ceiling) and exactly how many were required to solve each puzzle. There was one puzzle that we tried many different ways to solve before realizing that we were missing a clue. It was just one clue, but without it, we were just guessing, and the chances of our solving the puzzle were infinitesimal. G‑d is the vital clue in my life that makes everything add up.
5. Victory tastes sweet.
I was in charge of the group that solved the first puzzle. We screamed in euphoria when we finally combined the right numbers to open the locked box. This was the feeling I kept replaying in the days that followed: satisfaction, excitement, relief. It was a tiny taste of the joy we all will feel when Moshiach comes—when everything in creation will add up, just like those numbers. And just like those numbers added up for everyone, Moshiach will come for everyone. The victorious thrill I enjoyed in The Great Escape Room may have been only a tiny taste of the Redemption, but the taste stays with me, adding to my hunger for the real thing.
-------
Does Technology Blind Us From Seeing G-d?
In this world, we are given tools, many of them. We have medicines and machines, we have diets and therapies. All these tools, they are given to us to help us, like glasses for poor vision. by Elana Mizrahi
“Here, give me your glasses, you don’t know how to clean glasses!” he told me—he has more thanI couldn’t even see through them! 30 years of glasses-wearing expertise. He took them and cleaned them.
I put them back on. “They’re still so cloudy! I can’t even see.”
“Maybe your prescription changed?” My husband questioned.
“In 24 hours? Impossible!”
I tried cleaning them one more time and then gave up. “I can’t deal with this! They are so blurry! It’s giving me a headache!” I put the glasses aside.
Fast forward to 11 a.m., nearly six hours later ...
I looked up at the clock to see what time it was and realized, “Wow, I can really see the numbers so clearly.” Then it hit me. I was wearing my contact lenses. I’ve never done this before, but I must have forgotten to take them out the previous night when I went to sleep. My little morning episode of cleaning the glasses came back to me, and I broke out into uncontrollable laughter, tears streaming down my face. No wonder why my glasses were blurry; I had put them on with my contact lenses.
What did I learn from this lense-cleaning episode? Sometimes, trying to see with too much clarity can actually blind you ...
I work as a reflexologist and a massage therapist for women in all stages of life. The other day, a woman came to me who was undergoing fertility treatments. She looked so stressed, so exhausted, so emotionally and physically drained. As I tried to pour as much love as I could into my massaging touch, she told me how her doctor would only perform the IVF treatment that she had started if the endometrial lining of her uterus was at least 5 mm. She felt like her entire world depended on the measure of her lining.
I looked at her and saw the pain in her eyes, and I told her what I am going to tell you. There is NO limit to what G‑d can do. The only limitations are the ones that we create (by not actually believing). G‑d created the world in such a way that when you believe in something, you give it power. As the sages teach, “The rains are only brought down because of the masters of faith [ones who believe].”1 The commentators explain that the masters of faith are those who believe in G‑d and plant their seeds (with faith that G‑d will send the rains). When you believe in G‑d, who is infinite and can do anything, you bring that power down from above.
If a person thinks that with all of modern technology, man has more control and knows more, then he is mistaken. It’s like the glasses and the contact lenses—too much, too many lenses, actually blurs the vision and limits our capacity to see because it distances us from truly believing that G‑d can make anything happen.
After going to the bathroom, there is a very powerful blessing one recites. This blessing—which consists of 45 words that correspond to the numerical value of the word adam (“man,” as in mankind)—says as follows:
Blessed are You, L‑rd, our G‑d, King of the universe, Whoformed man with wisdom and created within him many openings and many hollows (cavities). It is obvious and known before Your Throne of Glory that if but one of them were to be blocked or if one of them were to be ruptured, it would be impossible to survive even for a short period of time. Blessed are You, G‑d, Who heals all flesh and acts wondrously.
The first thing that jumps out at me when I say this blessing are the words “Who formed man with wisdom.” When a person begins to contemplate the awesome wisdom involved in all the processes of the body—whether it be, for example, digestion and excretion, or conception and pregnancy—one is thoroughly humbled. There is so much G‑dly wisdom in the body that we humble spirits don’t understand.
Then comes “It is obvious and known before Your Throne of Glory ... ” It is “obvious and known” to You, G‑d—You can see and know everything. I, even with all of modern technology, cannot see or know everything. You choose what You want me to see and choose what You want to remain hidden.
At last, I end the blessing with “Who heals all flesh and acts wondrously,” and here, here is the key, because asThese very tools can also harm us!much as I think that I know, as much as I think I can control, as much as I think that I can do, ultimately, G‑d is the One who heals all flesh and acts wondrously.
In this world, we are given tools, many of them. We have medicines and machines; we have diets and therapies. All these tools, they are given to us to help us, like glasses for poor vision. These very tools can also harm us and limit us when they distance us from believing in G‑d.
When a person says, “This technology tells me everything there is to know about how the body functions, and I can therefore manipulate all of its functioning,” he is actually limiting his body’s capability to heal—limiting G‑d’s capability to heal and perform miracles. Believing that you can see and control everything will make you lose sight that, ultimately, G‑d is the Healer. He sees everything and knows everything, and He wants us to turn to Him, to believe in Him, to plant the seeds in preparation for the rains and blessing to come.
FOOTNOTES
1.Taanit 8a.
-------
7TH DAY OF PASSOVER: THE SPLITTING OF THE SEA
Freeing Yourself From the Demons of Your Past by Chana Weisberg
Passover is a festival of liberation. We became free people, no longer enslaved to our Egyptian masters.Freeing Yourself From the Demons of Your Past by Chana Weisberg
Being enslaved has two parts to it. There is the physical circumstance of slavery—the torturous existence of being subjected, day after day, to the merciless whip of the taskmaster. But there is also psychological slavery—the slave’s mindset and conviction.
Mitzrayim denotes limitations, which we all have to certain degrees. For some, that may mean severe financial problems; for others, it could be serious health issues. And for still others, it may be the burden of an arduous psychological environment. These are the circumstances that constrain us.
But then come our own internal shackles. Even once freed from the abuse or suffering of our past, we may still be living a life inhibited by our own fear, pain or trauma.
We may become freed from our external Egypt, but if Pharaoh has come out with us, essentially, he continues to have full control, mastering our psyche. Our specific set of circumstances may have improved, but our life’s tumultuous inner terrain remains the same.
On the seventh day of Passover, we celebrate the splitting of the Red Sea. Even once they had been redeemed from Egypt, the Jews remained fearful of the Egyptian’s great might and power. Only after the sea split—and they saw the Egyptians dead on the seashore—could they finally experience complete liberation.
It’s easy to think of ourselves as free when we’ve overcome an externally imposed limitation. We may be shocked, however, to discover that Pharaoh is still pursuing us even after we’ve escaped his Egypt. But the abuser closing in on us is the Pharaoh that we’ve allowed to accompany us.
So how do we eradicate these demons from our inner world? How do we transcend the personal Egypt within ourselves?
By splitting our inner sea.
To split the sea, G‑d “turned the sea into dry land.” Deep beneath the sea water lies buried a vibrant, beautiful inner life. The sea is a metaphor for material existence, which hides the G‑dly life force that maintains our existence. To transform the sea into dry land means to reveal that neither we, nor our world, are separate from G‑d; that G‑d alone has full control over our lives and knows what’s best for us.
Only by revealing our deep inner truth—our infinite power coming from our infinite connection to the Divine force within us—can we hope to attain our complete liberation. Only then can we fully leave the demons of our past behind us.
-------
Walking the Distance, Feeling the Closeness
It’s Yom Tov, and scores of Chabad chassidim are leaving the Crown Heights neighborhood of Brooklyn on foot—some walking as far as Queens and Upper Manhattan! No, it’s not some fitness craze. It’s Tahaluchah. by Mendel Rubin
Early on in his leadership, the Rebbe began an initiative that continues to this day. He encouraged his chassidim to visit other synagogues on festivals, in order to share joy and inspiration near and far. Since Jewish law prohibits the use of cars and other vehicles on Yom Tov, this meant walking to even the furthest destinations.
Decades later, Tahaluchah continues to be a central feature of Yom Tov, and something like a rite of passage for Chabad chassidim. Neighborhoods change, demographics shift, new generations of walkers replace the old, but Tahaluchah marches on, rain or shine.
Of all the Rebbe’s initiatives, there was something very special about the way he encouraged Tahaluchah and displayed his appreciation to those who participated. Take a walk with me down memory lane to get a sense of the urgency and importance we felt on Tahaluchah . . .
It was the 1980s, and I was a teenager. The Tahaluchah left the Rebbe's synagogue, “770,” in broad daylight, the streets filled with chassidim walking four or five abreast, all singing joyously. The song wafted through the streets; it pulsated in our hearts. The Rebbe stood at the door of the synagogue, encouraging the singing with his trademark upward sweep of the arm as he watched the procession march off. His eyes penetrated the crowd, seeing each of us off as individuals and following us until the last had passed from view.
Our walking groups were comprised of yeshivah students and married men of all ages. Certain individuals were assigned to specific synagogues, some groups were pre-arranged, but most went with the flow and split up along with the crowd.
There was a palpable energy, a spring in the step, excitement and anticipation in the air. New York City police escorted us for the first portion of the way; they closed streets and directed traffic, adding to the parade-like feel. As we walked, splintering into smaller groups, dusk would descend and the air would cool. Some neighborhoods felt safer, others less so. In some of the more Jewish neighborhoods, people would greet us with cold drinks and encouragement.
On some holidays, especially on Shavuot, it was not unusual to encounter rain, very heavy at times. I recall several occasions when the rain was so heavy and the puddles so deep that the dye of our black hats and blue trench coats seeped right through every layer of our clothing.
On Passover and Shavuot, when we arrived at our destination, one individual in each group would share a Chassidic teaching and words of inspiration between the Minchah and Maariv prayers. We'd converse a bit with the congregants, add fresh new faces to the worn pews or old chairs, and brighten the holiday with a brisk and lively dance after the prayers ended.
Simchat Torah was different. The influx of energetic dancing feet and enthusiastic singing voices helped transform and uplift a synagogue of any size. The festivities were especially meaningful in that Tahaluchah participants often danced shoulder to shoulder and hand in hand with Jews whom they had never previously met and perhaps wouldn’t meet again.
Some synagogues were well-established, filled with worshippers; many were in older Jewish neighborhoods with diminished attendance, and they especially welcomed the thrice-annual holiday influx of spirit and inspiration. Each synagogue had its characters: There were the warm, welcoming types who greeted us enthusiastically, grateful for our arrival and participation. There was the inevitable dismissive cynic with a disapproving glance or occasionally some harsh words. Those who did business abroad glowed with appreciation of Chabad's presence in far-flung places, and every so often someone would share a story about a personal interaction he experienced with the Rebbe.
On the way back, the streets were dark and near-empty. We walked past shuttered storefronts with their locked metal grates, on sidewalks of varying widths and states of repair. In earlier years, when safety in certain neighborhoods was a concern, we'd meet up at central locations to walk home together in larger groups. In later years, as conditions improved, there was less of a throng coming home, and though there was little singing, the atmosphere was inspired and warm, with animated conversations filling the air. As we walked through deserted commercial strips and residential streets, we shared Chassidic stories and teachings over the rumble of traffic and the occasional blast of boombox music.
Nearing Crown Heights, our pace quickened, and as different groups converged, the crowd thickened. Not all groups came back at the same time, but some were greeted by the Rebbe himself awaiting them at 770. On Simchat Torah night, we would join the Rebbe's pre-hakafot farbrengenalready underway.
Through these treks away from the Rebbe’s synagogue we actually felt even more connected to the Rebbe. The Rebbe made it clear that he expected us to share our celebration with other Jews, and that he cherished every step we took along the way. Today, the Rebbe is no longer with us physically, yet we maintain a real sense of the Rebbe sending us off, accompanying us on our way, and awaiting our return.
Tahaluchah is not simply about the destination, or about its overt purpose. Yes, the intent is to help other Jews rejoice. But the journey itself, and the sense of service, of connection to something bigger than oneself, is an integral part of the experience. Tahaluchah’s impact on us, those who walk the walk, is perhaps even more potent than the impact on the people we are walking to inspire and celebrate with.
Regarding holiday celebrations, Maimonides writes: "A person who closes the gates of his courtyard and eats and drinks with his children and his wife, without feeding the poor and the embittered, that's not rejoicing associated with a mitzvah, but rather it is merely the rejoicing of his own stomach." The emphasis that the Rebbe placed on Tahaluchah ingrains in us the principle that another’s needs come first. Our own service of G‑d, our own celebration of the festival, remains incomplete unless we share it with others. A fellow Jew must come first!
That is why Tahaluchah remains so central to the Yom Tov experience in Chabad. It embodies the central axiom that the Rebbe emphasized at the very onset of his leadership: “Love of your fellow Jew leads to love of G‑d.”
The lived experience of Tahaluchah teaches us that to feel the closeness, you have to walk the distance.
It's hard to speak of Tahaluchah without mentioning Reb Dovid Raskin. On paper, if you didn't know him, this man may have held more power than anyone else in Chabad. He served on all the central boards of Chabad, from its yeshivah system to its vast global outreach network. He chaired theLubavitch Youth Organization and also served Chabad's social services arm. He may have been the only chassid serving in a leadership capacity in all of Chabad's umbrella organizations. But Reb Dovid knew nothing of power. He was humble and subservient to the core, devoted with every fiber of his existence.
Reb Dovid especially cherished Tahaluchah; it meant the world to him. More than any other chassid, he is associated with Tahaluchah because of how much he looked forward to it, and how he spoke of it at farbrengens and gatherings. Why did he care so much about Tahaluchah? Perhaps because it so powerfully embodies his ideal of the chassid as a loyal foot-soldier, marching out on the Rebbe's mission with unwavering devotion.
There was another Tahaluchah of sorts that Reb Dovid did annually. Each year, the New York State Legislature honored the Rebbe's birthday with an "Education Day" resolution and luncheon. For years, at the Rebbe's direction, Reb Dovid would attend, making the trip to the New York State Capitol in Albany from his home in Brooklyn. In his waning years, greatly weakened, he needed a wheelchair to get around. But despite the increasing hardship, he insisted on making this annual trek each spring. For him, it was simply unthinkable not to. One of those years, Governor George Pataki attended the celebration in the Capitol's Red Room. Pataki, especially tall and broad shouldered, loomed over the stooped figure of Reb Dovid in his wheelchair, bent down to him and said, "Rabbi Raskin, you tower over us all!"
-------
And They Lived Happily Ever After
What About the Day After? by Karen Wolfers-Rapaport
This revelation is incomparable to anything we know, but perhaps we can sense a tiny glimmer of such a reality during a “peak experience.” Psychologist Abraham Maslow described peak experiences as moments during which we feel the maximum levels of happiness, harmony and possibility. These experiences can range from the deepening of everyday pleasure to “supernatural” occurrences of enhanced consciousness. Climbing Mount Everest, giving birth, producing a great creative work, one’s wedding day—all of these have been described as peak experiences in one’s life.
These momentous events would all pale in comparison to the splitting of the Red Sea, the ultimate peak experience. And yet the commentators tell us that the maidservants, after experiencing this open miracle, remained maidservants. What do they mean, and why is it important for us to understand this point?
The sages point out that following their peak experience, their “high,” the maidservants reverted back to their prior selves. Instead of taking advantage of the awe-inspiring revelations during the splitting of the sea, the maidservants squandered an opportunity for accelerated growth, insight and union with their Source. The prophet Ezekiel, on the other hand, may have bore witness to a more understated degree of Divine revelation, but he utilized his spiritual opportunity to create a higher connection to G‑d.
Interestingly enough, the Talmud says that “to match couples together is as difficult as the splitting of the sea.”1
Why the comparison?
First off, according to Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz, whenever our sages refer to paradox, the unification of opposites, they refer to it as being as difficult as the parting of the Red Sea. Just as we were paradoxically able to walk on “a dry sea,” in marriage we are paradoxically asked to live with someone who seems to be from another planet!2
Perhaps another reason for the comparison between the splitting of the sea and marriage is that they both have miraculous origins. The wedding is the beginning of this Divine miracle. In front of G‑d, and those you love, you enter a holy union with anticipation and hope. Starting a new life together, your world is your tabula rasa, your blank slate. Your heightened senses bring the awe and love you feel for one another into undeniable view. You want to give. You want to be the best possible partner. You are at the apex of a peak experience; you are in the middle of a genuine high. This is a moment that can be a catalyst for great personal and spiritual growth. It is not only about you anymore; you have another. There is potential for great transformation here.
Remember the maidservants? After their great awakening, they returned to their earlier ways.
When the wedding is over, and the intense bliss is on its way down, will you remember the compassion, kindness and commitment that you felt during your great awakening? When you settle down, and life becomes more routine and the responsibilities begin to pile up, will you remember to be as receptive, forgiving and unselfish as you were on your special day? And as the years go by, and the inevitable challenges emerge, will you still cultivate the closeness you felt with your spouse during your peak experience?
How fortunate are we that, at some point in our lives, we may be given the gift of an elevated awareness—a peak experience. During those times, it is important to take positive action to ensure that what we gleaned during those moments will not remain just a vague feeling.Will you still cultivate the closeness? We have to step up during the “highs” and internalize their messages. When we are moved by a piece of music, when we arrive at a meditative bliss, when our babies are born, when it is our turn under the chupah, let us not remain the maidservants that we were before. Let us transform.
FOOTNOTES
1.Sotah 2a.
2.Steinsaltz, Adin. Change and Renewal: The Essence of the Jewish Holidays, Festivals and Days of Remembrance. Maggid, 2011.
-------
TOOLKIT
The Sefirat HaOmer Site
Between the holidays of Passover and Shavuot, the Omer is counted each evening, signifying our preparation for the receiving of the Torah on the holiday of Shavuot. Your one-stop site for an enhanced Omer experience.
Sefirat HaOmerThe Sefirat HaOmer Site
Between the holidays of Passover and Shavuot, the Omer is counted each evening, signifying our preparation for the receiving of the Torah on the holiday of Shavuot. Your one-stop site for an enhanced Omer experience.
Counting of the Omer
Count Tonight’s Omer
Introduction
“When you take this people out of Egypt,” said G‑d to Moses when He revealed Himself to him in a burning bush at the foot of Mount Sinai, “you shall serve G‑d on this mountain.”Each year, we retrace this inner journey with our “Counting of the Omer.”
It took seven weeks to reach the mountain. The people of Israel departed Egypt on the 15th of Nissan (the first day of Passover); on the 6th of Sivan, celebrated ever since as the festival of Shavuot, they assembled at the foot of Mount Sinai and received the Torah from G‑d.
The Kabbalists explain that the 49 days that connect Passover with Shavuot correspond to the 49 drives and traits of the human heart. Each day saw the refinement of one of these sefirot, bringing the people of Israel one step closer to their election as G‑d’s chosen people and their receiving of His communication to humanity.
Each year, we retrace this inner journey with our “Counting of the Omer.” Beginning on the second night of Passover, we count the days and weeks: “Today is one day to the Omer”; “Today is two days to the Omer”; “Today is seven days, which are one week to the Omer”; and so on, till “Today is forty-nine days, which are seven weeks to the Omer.” Shavuot, the “Festival of Weeks,” is the product of this count, driven by the miracles and revelations of the Exodus but achieved by a methodical, 49-step process of self-refinement within the human soul.
Count Today's Omer
Do a mitzvah in just one minute.
Omer Calendar
Complete calendar for counting the Omer. Print it out and use it every day.
A Spiritual Guide to the Counting of the OmerForty-Nine Steps to Personal Refinement
By Simon Jacobson
Introduction
Omer 1
View All 50
Laws & Customs
Basic Laws of Counting the Omer
Omer Mourning Observances
View All 4
Omer Insights
Why Do We Count Up the Omer?
Why Do We Count the Omer Specifically at Night?
View All 29
AudioAudio Classes
The Counting of the Omer
Omer - Magical Mystery Tour
View All 9
Ethics of the Fathers (Pirkei Avot)
About
Chapter 1
View All 10
TOOLS & RESOURCES
Daily Reminder
Omer Counter App
Omer Challenge
-------
All About the Last Days of Passover
How to celebrate the holiday that marks the splitting of the sea and the promise of good things to come.
The Last Two Days of Passover In a Nutshell
What and How We Celebrate
By Menachem Posner
The seventh and eighth days of Passover are celebrated as Yom Tov, holidays, capping the weeklong celebration that begins with the first Seder. In Israel, only the seventh day is celebrated
Seventh Day: Splitting of the Sea
The seventh day of Passover celebrates the splitting of the sea for our ancestors on their way out of Egyptian slavery. Here, we present a collection of articles and videos in this amazing occurrence and what it means to us.
Eighth Day: Gebrokts and Moshiach's Feast
The eighth day of Passover commemorates the final redemption yet to come: the era of Moshiach. Here is a collection of articles and videos that explore the significance of this day and some of is unique customs, including a special "seder" and eating wet matzah (gebrokts).
From the Book of Our Heritage
By Eliyahu Kitov
Rabbi Ki-Tov explores the significance and traditions of the last days of Passover.
Walking the Distance, Feeling the Closeness
The Tahaluchah Experience
By Mendel Rubin
It’s Yom Tov, and scores of Chabad chassidim are leaving the Crown Heights neighborhood of Brooklyn on foot—some walking as far as Queens and Upper Manhattan! No, it’s not some fitness craze. It’s Tahaluchah.
2 Comments
-------
YOUR QUESTIONS
Why Is Matzah So Bland?
The short and simple answer is that another name for matzah is lechem oni—“poor man's bread” or “bread of poverty.” by Yehuda Shurpin
Rabbi, let me get right to it. Why does matzah have to taste so bland? Can’t it have some other ingredients besides flour and water?Why Is Matzah So Bland?
The short and simple answer is that another name for matzah is lechem oni—“poor man's bread” or “bread of poverty.” by Yehuda Shurpin
Reply
The short and simple answer is that another name for matzah is lechem oni—“poor man's bread” or “bread of poverty.” A poor man can only afford the two simplest ingredients—flour and water. We can only imagine that our ancestors ate this “poor man’s bread” while enslaved in Egypt.1
Indeed, one of the classical biblical commentators, Rabbi Abraham ibn Ezra(1089–1167), who was imprisoned in India, recounts that prisoners and slaves were fed a matzah-like food, since it’s cheap and filling.2 Every year onPassover, we commemorate our enslavement and subsequent exodus by eating “bread of poverty.”
(Also note that some added ingredients may accelerate the fermentation process, which can produce chametz. You can read all about that here.)
That’s the classic answer, but let’s dig deeper.
To Taste or Not to Taste?
When it comes to the taste of matzah, we find two seemingly contradictory laws. Even if you don’t actually taste the matzah (e.g., you grind it and then swallow it without chewing), you fulfill the mitzvah of eating matzah.3 On the other hand, the matzah needs to retain its unique taste. If the taste of matzah is changed or suppressed (either by mixing it with other foods or cooking it), then it is not valid to use for the mitzvah of eating matzah.4
Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi sums up the law by saying, “Although one need not taste the matzah in his mouth, the matzah itself must possess the taste of matzah.”5
Wait! Why Do We Eat Matzah on Passover?
Although it may be true that our ancestors ate this bread of poverty in Egypt, if we look at one of the central texts of the Haggadah, we’re given a very different reason for crunching matzah at the Seder:
This matzah that we eat, for what reason? Because the dough of our fathers did not have time to become leavened before the King of kings, the Holy One, blessed be He, revealed Himself to them and redeemed them.
Thus it is said: "They baked matzah-cakes from the dough that they had brought out of Egypt, because it was not leavened; for they had been driven out of Egypt and could not delay, and they had also not prepared any [other] provisions."
In other words, we were commanded to eat matzah on Passover to commemorate the fact that our ancestors left in a haste—not because they were poor slaves.
Poverty, Faith and Haste
Our sages explain that our ancestors were not just impoverished physically, but also spiritually. In fact, it was due to their poor spiritual state that they needed to leave Egypt in such a haste. They had become so entrenched in the spiritual depravity of Egypt that had they remained in Egypt even a moment longer, there may not have been a nation left to redeem.6
There was no time to gradually wean themselves from the crippling comforts of slavery, no time to stop and think about the significance of the Exodus. All they had was an urgent faith. G‑d ignited this faith with an awesome revelation of His might and truth, blasting the former slaves’ souls free of their physical and spiritual shackles. It was this faith, and this faith alone, that took them out of Egypt and set them on the road to receiving the Torah on Mount Sinai.
And this brings us to the reason for both the taste and the tastelessness of the matzah.
The Tasty Blandness
The mystics call matzah the “food of faith.”7 The sparse makeup of the matzah reflects the simple faith of one who was roused by a flash of Divine truth to follow G‑d into the desert. He does not yet fully comprehend what just took place. There is no richness of intellectual taste. All he “tastes” is the awe of the G‑d who just redeemed him, and his firm resolve to serve Him as a simple servant.
At the same time, matzah does have a taste. Matzah has the distinct flavor of pure faith, the taste of self-abnegation and consistent commitment. If you don’t appreciate or taste the matzah, that’s okay; our forefathers didn’t either. Still spiritually unrefined and impoverished, they were incapable of fully digesting or delighting in the awesome revelations they experienced.
Nevertheless, the matzah must have its own unique flavor. For this firm resolve to serve G‑d with the faith of a simple servant contains within it the seeds for a deep and satisfying relationship with G‑d—no less satisfying than the elegant wine we drink this night, which represents the delights of the mind and heart.8
FOOTNOTES
1.Deuteronomy 16:3.
2.See Orchot Hachaim on Haggadah, Hei Lachmo Anya.
3.Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 473:3.
4.Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 461:4, and Magen Avraham, seif katan 7.
5.Shulchan Aruch Harav, Orach Chaim 461:12.
6.See Mechilta on Exodus 12:41; Zohar Chadash, beginning of Yitro; Tzror Hamor quoted by the Shalah on Haggadah Avadim Hayinu; Haggadah Im Likkutei Taamim Minhagim u’Biurim, p. 30 (Matzah Zu).
7.Zohar, Raya Meheimna Bo 41a.
8.Based on Likutei Sichot, vol. 21, p. 43-48.
There were once two beggars who used to go around begging together. One was Jewish and the other a gentile. As the night of Passoverapproached, the Jewish beggar offered to help his non-Jewish friend get invited to a seder (the festive Passover meal accompanied by many commandments and rituals) and get a good meal. "Just put on some Jewish clothes and come with me to the synagogue. Everyone brings home poor guests for the seder. It's easy, you'll see."
The non-Jewish beggar happily agreed. On the first night of Passover they went to the synagogue, and sure enough, both got invited to different homes for the festive ceremony.
Hours later they met in a predetermined place in the local park. But to the amazement of the Jewish beggar, his friend was blazing mad.
"What did you do to me?" He shouted. "You call that a meal? It was torture!! It was hell! I'll pay you back for this--you'll see..."
"What do you mean? What happened?" the Jew asked.
"What happened? As if you didn't know! You Jews are crazy--that's what happened! First we drank a glass of wine. I like wine, but on an empty stomach... My head started spinning a bit but I figured that any second we would begin the meal. The smell of the food from the kitchen was great. Then we ate a bit of parsley. Then they started talking, and talking, and talking. In Hebrew. All the time I'm smiling and nodding my head as if I understand what they're saying--like you told me to--but my head is really swimming and hurting from the wine and I'm dying of hunger.
"The smell of the food from the kitchen is making me insane, but they don't bring it out. For two hours they don't bring anything out! Just talking, and more talking. Then, just what I needed.... another cup of wine! Then we get up, wash hands, sit back down and eat this big wafer called matzah that tastes like newspaper, leaning to the left (don't ask me why...). I started choking, almost threw up. And then finally they give me this lettuce, I took a big bite and wham! My mouth was on fire. My throat! There was horseradish inside! Nothing to eat but horseradish! You guys are crazy....
"Well, I just got up and left. Enough is enough!"
"Ah, I should have told you." replied the Jew. "What a shame! After the bitter herbs is a glorious meal. You suffered so long; you should have just held out for a few more minutes...!"
The editor again: Jewish history is a seder. We've had our appetite teased with small moments of triumph. But mostly we've had "bread of faith" that our palates can't really appreciate. And generous helpings of bitter herbs.
The lesson? Two thoughts come to mind. You need patience to be a Jew. And since we've swallowed the maror already, we might as well hold out one minute longer and get the feast...
Serves: 8
3 pounds red skinned potatoes, peeled and cut into large chunks
1 cup almond milk
Pepper to taste
1 teaspoon sea salt
Filling Ingredients:
2 cups diced onion (from about 2 medium onions)
3 cups sliced mushrooms (from about 1/2 pound whole mushrooms)
3 cups vegetable broth (not low sodium)
1 teaspoon fresh sage, minced
2 tablespoons fresh thyme, minced
2 cups, peeled and sliced carrots (from about 2 carrots)
2 cups cauliflower florets (from about 1 small head)
3 tablespoons potato starch
1 teaspoon sea salt
Pepper to taste
For the Topping
Steamed carrots (cut into rounds)
Yellow summer squash (cut into rounds)
Zucchini (cut into rounds)
*If you eat kitniyot during Passover, you can also use peas and thin string beans here.
Directions:
Preheat the oven to 350 F.
Share your favorite Passover memory in the comments below, and you will be entered to win a copy of the Jewish Food Hero. Entries must be submitted by 11:59pm on Tuesday, April 26, 2016. Winner will be chosen on Thursday, May 5, 2016.
Pesach Onion Chicken with Caramelized Potatoes and Sweet Potatoes
Quick & Easy, One-Pan Dinner by Miriam Szokovski
This is a one-dish dinner that’s great for those trying to stay away from processed foods (either because of Passover traditions, or for health reasons). It uses basic ingredients and flavors, and will make your house smell fantastic.
[Disclaimer: I had a hard time photographing this one; it tastes a lot better than it looks in the photo.]
You’ll need chicken, potatoes, sweet potatoes and onions. Cube the potatoes and sweet potatoes, and dice one of the onions. Toss them with the salt and oil and put them in the bottom of the pan.
Now it’s time to prepare the sauce. Squeeze the oranges and pour the juice, with the pulp, into a pot. Add the wine and sugar and bring to a boil. Simmer over a low flame for about 8–10 minutes, so the syrup can thicken.
Place the chicken on top of the potatoes and pour on the syrup. (I photographed only 2 pieces of chicken, but you need 4 pieces for the recipe.)
Slice the second onion into rings and pile it on top of the chicken. Sprinkle with salt.
And that’s it, you’re ready to bake it. Wrap the pan tightly with foil, and bake at 300° F for 2–2½ hours. Remove the foil, turn the oven up to 400° F and bake for another 30–60 minutes, until the chicken crisps up.
When it’s ready, the potatoes and sweet potatoes should be soft and almost caramelized from the syrup, and the chicken should be falling-off-the-bone soft, with a crispy top. Once you get it in the oven, this dish requires very little attention, so it’s a good one for a busy day. Just set a timer so you don’t forget to uncover it for that last hour or so.
Great for Passover, but of course you can make it year-round as well. It reheats well, but don’t freeze this one. Potatoes and sweet potatoes don’t do well in the freezer.
Ingredients:
4 chicken legs
2 large sweet potatoes
4 medium potatoes
2 onions
1 tbsp. olive oil
1½ tsp. kosher salt
Juice and pulp of 1 large orange (approximately ¾ cup)
½ cup sweet red wine
2 tbsp. sugar
Directions:
What’s your favorite one-pan stick-in-the-oven-and-forget-about-it dish?
In Flooded Houston: ‘Let All Who Are Hungry Come and Eat’
Chabad offers room at the seder table for those affected by floodwaters. by Faygie Levy Holt
Rabbi Yossi Zaklikofsky, co-director of The Shul of Bellaire, was trapped in his car on Monday when more than 10 inches of rain fell in a matter of hours in Houston, flooding waterways, streets and neighborhoods.
Many Jewish residents in Houston were forced to put Passover preparations on the backburner as they focused on clearing water from their homes this week after record flooding closed schools, shut down the city’s mass-transit system and led to hundreds of emergency rescues throughout the city.
Seven people were killed, more than 1,000 homes were destroyed, and damages were so far estimated at $5 billion as a result of the floodwaters, which came 11 months after another historic storm caused the deaths of eight people, and also severely damaged area homes and property. More than 10 inches of rain fell in a matter of hours earlier this week, overwhelming waterways and streets, and causing severe flooding in the city.
And there may be more to come as Houston remains under a flash flood watch, with some rain is forecast for the next few days.
The damage from Monday’s storm was particularly harsh in the lower-lying Meyerland and Willow Meadows neighborhoods, as the Brays Bayou again overran its banks and sent water flowing into homes, much as it did last May.
At least two synagogues, the United Orthodox Synagogues of Houston and Meyerland Minyan, sustained some water damage during Monday’s flood. But it was housing that got the worst of it—yet again.
“People finally got back into their homes in the last couple of weeks, and now their houses are flooded again,” reports Rabbi Chaim Lazaroff, program director of Chabad Lubavitch Center Regional Headquarters in Houston, who was in New York when the storm hit, and initially coordinated efforts through emails, texts and WhatsApp messaging. He returned to Houston on Tuesday. “I know some of the people who are flooded, and we’ve reached out to extend our help and let them know they have a place to stay if they need it.”
The heavy rains came 11 months after another historic storm. (Photo: Courtesy of Peretz Golding)
He adds that Chabad of Houston is currently “assessing the situation and mobilizing our response” to provide any aid that’s needed.
‘All Are Welcome’
As of now, two displaced families will spend Passover in Aishel House, which provides temporary apartments for families who have a loved one undergoing treatment at the Texas Medical Center in Houston. Because the building is currently under renovation, only a handful of the planned 27 apartments are usable; Aishel House has made those units available to families who need them.
“Our mission is to provide housing for patients and their families in a time of medical crisis,” says Rabbi Eliezer Lazaroff, executive director of Chabad at Texas Medical Center. His wife, Rochel Lazaroff, is program director. The couple also runs Aishel House. “These are extenuating circumstances and a crisis—an emergency situation for these families who, right before Pesach, are in a lurch. We thought it was important to provide them with this kind of assistance.
“By being here at Aishel House, it’s not just that they will have a place to stay, but we will have the seders here, and there’s a shul for holiday services,” he continues. “If they have to rent an apartment somewhere else, they are not going to be in proximity in a shul, and it won’t be the same kind of holiday.”
A man from the community talks to a driver that pulled onto his lawn to get out of the rising water. (Photo: Courtesy of Peretz Golding)
Community members help a neighbor push his flooded car out of the water. (Photo: Courtesy of Peretz Golding)
The Lazaroffs will be offering food as well. Rochel Lazaroff has been preparing and cooking for a Passover crowd that just got a bit bigger.
“I think of Abraham and Sarah as the epitome of hospitality, and when someone in your community is displaced, it’s an absolute honor to be able to help them,” says Rochel Lazaroff. “If we can alleviate any of their hardship, that’s what we are going to do.”
She notes that people have been calling her and volunteering to help as well: “Good will is underestimated; there’s a lot more than is publicized.”
That good will is extended throughout Houston as regional Chabad centers are offering attendance at Passover seders, at no charge, to anyone affected by the storms.
“All are welcome to come and participate in our eight area seders,” says Rabbi Chaim Lazaroff. “Chabad will underwrite the costs of the seder for anyone whose home was flooded.”
Loss of Power and Property
Even those whose homes were not underwater were impacted by the weather.
Rabbi Mendel and Leah Blecher, who run Chabad of The Woodlands, have been dealing with a loss of power, while co-director of The Shul of Bellaire, Rabbi Yossi Zaklikofsky, posted a public “thank you” on Facebook to the local police officers and concerned neighbors who came to his aid when he was trapped in his car by rising water.
A flooded street in a Jewish neighborhood just days before the start of Passover. (Photo: Courtesy of Peretz Golding)
Rabbi Moishe Traxler, director of Chabad Outreach of Houston, recounts that when a community member who was slated to join them at synagogue for morning prayers didn’t show, everyone started getting concerned.
Noting that the young man was new to the area and unprepared for such circumstances, a group of community members went out to look for him. They found him a bit later physically fine, though he had lost his car, cell phone and laptop to the floodwaters.
Nevertheless, all were very much relieved. Says Traxler: “Thank G‑d, he was OK.”
A flash-flood watch remains in effect for the city as more rain is expected in the next day or two. Chabad Houston has established a relief fund here.
Chabad of Houston is working to provide aid to those affected by the flooding, including inviting all those who need to attend the Passover seder. Here, water swirls in front of the Chabad Lubavitch Center in Fondren Southwest. (Photo: Courtesy of Peretz Golding)
Water pools in front of a local kosher pizza shop. (Photo: Courtesy of Peretz Golding)
---------------------
6.See Mechilta on Exodus 12:41; Zohar Chadash, beginning of Yitro; Tzror Hamor quoted by the Shalah on Haggadah Avadim Hayinu; Haggadah Im Likkutei Taamim Minhagim u’Biurim, p. 30 (Matzah Zu).
7.Zohar, Raya Meheimna Bo 41a.
8.Based on Likutei Sichot, vol. 21, p. 43-48.
-------
VIDEO
Why Should I Care About Ancient Slaves Who Went Free?
A short and powerful message on the Festival of Freedom’s profound meaning to us today. by Yisroel Glick
Watch (2:30)
Why Should I Care About Ancient Slaves Who Went Free?
A short and powerful message on the Festival of Freedom’s profound meaning to us today. by Yisroel Glick
Watch (2:30)
<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=3304694&width=auto&height=auto"></script><span style="clear:both;" class="lb" id="lbdiv">Visit <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish.TV</a> for more <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish videos</a>.</span>
-------
STORY
The Feast
First we drank a glass of wine. Then we ate a bit of parsley. Then they started talking, and talking, and talking. The smell of the food from the kitchen is making me insane, but they don't bring it out! by Tuvia Bolton
Editor's note: This is an old Jewish story/joke/metaphor. Versions abound. My favorite is Tuvia Bolton's rendition:The Feast
First we drank a glass of wine. Then we ate a bit of parsley. Then they started talking, and talking, and talking. The smell of the food from the kitchen is making me insane, but they don't bring it out! by Tuvia Bolton
There were once two beggars who used to go around begging together. One was Jewish and the other a gentile. As the night of Passoverapproached, the Jewish beggar offered to help his non-Jewish friend get invited to a seder (the festive Passover meal accompanied by many commandments and rituals) and get a good meal. "Just put on some Jewish clothes and come with me to the synagogue. Everyone brings home poor guests for the seder. It's easy, you'll see."
The non-Jewish beggar happily agreed. On the first night of Passover they went to the synagogue, and sure enough, both got invited to different homes for the festive ceremony.
Hours later they met in a predetermined place in the local park. But to the amazement of the Jewish beggar, his friend was blazing mad.
"What did you do to me?" He shouted. "You call that a meal? It was torture!! It was hell! I'll pay you back for this--you'll see..."
"What do you mean? What happened?" the Jew asked.
"What happened? As if you didn't know! You Jews are crazy--that's what happened! First we drank a glass of wine. I like wine, but on an empty stomach... My head started spinning a bit but I figured that any second we would begin the meal. The smell of the food from the kitchen was great. Then we ate a bit of parsley. Then they started talking, and talking, and talking. In Hebrew. All the time I'm smiling and nodding my head as if I understand what they're saying--like you told me to--but my head is really swimming and hurting from the wine and I'm dying of hunger.
"The smell of the food from the kitchen is making me insane, but they don't bring it out. For two hours they don't bring anything out! Just talking, and more talking. Then, just what I needed.... another cup of wine! Then we get up, wash hands, sit back down and eat this big wafer called matzah that tastes like newspaper, leaning to the left (don't ask me why...). I started choking, almost threw up. And then finally they give me this lettuce, I took a big bite and wham! My mouth was on fire. My throat! There was horseradish inside! Nothing to eat but horseradish! You guys are crazy....
"Well, I just got up and left. Enough is enough!"
"Ah, I should have told you." replied the Jew. "What a shame! After the bitter herbs is a glorious meal. You suffered so long; you should have just held out for a few more minutes...!"
The editor again: Jewish history is a seder. We've had our appetite teased with small moments of triumph. But mostly we've had "bread of faith" that our palates can't really appreciate. And generous helpings of bitter herbs.
The lesson? Two thoughts come to mind. You need patience to be a Jew. And since we've swallowed the maror already, we might as well hold out one minute longer and get the feast...
-------
LIFESTYLE
Vegetarian Shepherd's Pie (& Enter to Win a Free Digital Cookbook!) by Kenden Alfond
This version of shepherd’s pie celebrates vegetables in a light, springy version of a family favorite.Vegetarian Shepherd's Pie (& Enter to Win a Free Digital Cookbook!) by Kenden Alfond
Serves: 8
- Tools
- Extra large pot
- Large skillet
- Small bowl
- Colander
- Potato masher
- Glass baking dish (9 x 13 inch)
- Large spoon
- Medium pot and steamer basket
3 pounds red skinned potatoes, peeled and cut into large chunks
1 cup almond milk
Pepper to taste
1 teaspoon sea salt
Filling Ingredients:
2 cups diced onion (from about 2 medium onions)
3 cups sliced mushrooms (from about 1/2 pound whole mushrooms)
3 cups vegetable broth (not low sodium)
1 teaspoon fresh sage, minced
2 tablespoons fresh thyme, minced
2 cups, peeled and sliced carrots (from about 2 carrots)
2 cups cauliflower florets (from about 1 small head)
3 tablespoons potato starch
1 teaspoon sea salt
Pepper to taste
For the Topping
Steamed carrots (cut into rounds)
Yellow summer squash (cut into rounds)
Zucchini (cut into rounds)
*If you eat kitniyot during Passover, you can also use peas and thin string beans here.
Directions:
Preheat the oven to 350 F.
- Boil the potatoes: Place the prepared potatoes in an extra large soup pot, and cover with at least 1 inch of cold water. Boil, uncovered, for 20 minutes, or until the potatoes are fork-tender.
- Meanwhile, sauté the vegetables: In a large skillet, sauté the onion and mushrooms in 1/4 cup vegetable broth or water for 10 minutes, adding more broth if needed. Add the sage, thyme, and carrots, and sauté for another 5 minutes. Add the cauliflower and cook for 5 more minutes. Add the vegetable broth to the vegetables in the skillet, reserving 1/4 cup to mix with potato starch.
- Create the potato starch slurry and finish cooking the vegetable mixture: In a small bowl, combine the potato starch with the 1/4 cup reserved vegetable broth. Mix well. Add the potato starch mixture, sea salt, and pepper to the vegetables. Stir until thickened.
- Mash the potatoes: Drain the cooked potatoes and mash them, adding the almond milk, pepper, and sea salt.
- Assemble the dish and bake: Pour the cooked vegetables into a lightly oiled 9 x 13-inch glass casserole dish. Top with the mashed potatoes and smooth the surface with a spoon. Bake for 30 minutes.
- Prepare the garnish: While the casserole is cooking, chop the vegetables for the garnish, paying attention to maintaining a uniform and delicate shape. Steam the vegetables for the garnish just enough so they retain their beautiful color and a bit of crunch.
- Arrange the garnish and serve: Arrange the warm vegetables on top of the casserole in a design that inspires you. Keep warm in oven until ready to serve. Serve family style on the table.
Share your favorite Passover memory in the comments below, and you will be entered to win a copy of the Jewish Food Hero. Entries must be submitted by 11:59pm on Tuesday, April 26, 2016. Winner will be chosen on Thursday, May 5, 2016.
-------
Pesach Onion Chicken with Caramelized Potatoes and Sweet Potatoes
Quick & Easy, One-Pan Dinner by Miriam Szokovski
[Disclaimer: I had a hard time photographing this one; it tastes a lot better than it looks in the photo.]
You’ll need chicken, potatoes, sweet potatoes and onions. Cube the potatoes and sweet potatoes, and dice one of the onions. Toss them with the salt and oil and put them in the bottom of the pan.
Now it’s time to prepare the sauce. Squeeze the oranges and pour the juice, with the pulp, into a pot. Add the wine and sugar and bring to a boil. Simmer over a low flame for about 8–10 minutes, so the syrup can thicken.
Place the chicken on top of the potatoes and pour on the syrup. (I photographed only 2 pieces of chicken, but you need 4 pieces for the recipe.)
Slice the second onion into rings and pile it on top of the chicken. Sprinkle with salt.
And that’s it, you’re ready to bake it. Wrap the pan tightly with foil, and bake at 300° F for 2–2½ hours. Remove the foil, turn the oven up to 400° F and bake for another 30–60 minutes, until the chicken crisps up.
When it’s ready, the potatoes and sweet potatoes should be soft and almost caramelized from the syrup, and the chicken should be falling-off-the-bone soft, with a crispy top. Once you get it in the oven, this dish requires very little attention, so it’s a good one for a busy day. Just set a timer so you don’t forget to uncover it for that last hour or so.
Great for Passover, but of course you can make it year-round as well. It reheats well, but don’t freeze this one. Potatoes and sweet potatoes don’t do well in the freezer.
Ingredients:
4 chicken legs
2 large sweet potatoes
4 medium potatoes
2 onions
1 tbsp. olive oil
1½ tsp. kosher salt
Juice and pulp of 1 large orange (approximately ¾ cup)
½ cup sweet red wine
2 tbsp. sugar
Directions:
- Juice the orange and pour it into a pot, pulp included. Add the wine and sugar and bring to a boil. Lower the flame and let the mixture simmer for 8–10 minutes.
- Peel and dice the potatoes, sweet potatoes and one onion. Toss them with the oil and salt and put them on the bottom of the pan.
- Place the chicken on top of the potatoes, and pour the orange juice and wine mixture over it. Cut the second onion into rings and pile the rings over the chicken. Sprinkle with salt.
- Cover the pan tightly with foil and bake at 300° F for 2–2½ hours, then uncover, turn the oven up to 400° F and bake for another 30–60 minutes.
What’s your favorite one-pan stick-in-the-oven-and-forget-about-it dish?
-------
JEWISH NEWS
Just Out of Prison, One Woman’s Deeper Freedom This Passover
It was a very special Passover for Shari Wilkes, just out of prison after more than three years, where she was helped by rabbinic chaplains and is now looking forward to a more spiritual life by Carin M. Smilk
Shari Wilkes of South Florida is starting a new life after nearly four years in prison. This photo was taken in a local park shortly after she was released last month, one of the few photos she has after losing her possessions.
Shari Wilkes has no photo albums. She has no pots and pans, no favorite handbag or set of stationary. No fleece throws for the couch, no tchotchkes, houseplants or fancy dinner dishes. No little box of buttons and safety pins and paper clips collected over the years and kept in a convenient drawer. Wilkes, 50, just got out of prison, and in the three years and 11 months she was there, like many semblances of her former life, her things are gone.
She says she lost everything after her arrest and ensuing incarceration. Long divorced and not a homeowner, she had been storing her furniture and belongings at a friend’s house, but “four years is a long time.”
The details of her crime involve stolen goods from a pawn shop, something she’d rather not discuss. What sent the Miami native and former preschool teacher to the Homestead Correctional Institution in Florida City, Fla., in October of 2012 was the result of a series of bad decisions, she says, and a lifestyle she’d rather leave behind.
She will, however, talk about the past when it comes to her daughter, now 30, as well as Wilkes’ large extended (and supportive) family in South Florida, where she is currently living to be near them. She’ll talk about growing up in an active Jewish household, with warm memories and traditions, and the resurgence of Judaism and practice in her life that began on day one in prison. She’ll talk about the rabbis who visited her. And she will describe her time in prison—the days on end, the pros and cons, the effect it had on her and the good that came out of it.
“I am a better me than when I went in,” says Wilkes. “I learned so much and met some wonderful people. You don’t realize what you get from people sometimes.”
It’s not lost on her that the timing of her release, March 7, fell just weeks before the Jewish holiday that celebrates freedom, something she grappled with day after day behind bars. “I am looking forward to the future, to thePassover message. I understand the meaning of freedom like never before.”
Still, she adds: “You can be free no matter where you are—and you can be imprisoned. It’s all in your state of mind.”
‘Like a Little Family’
That first day in prison was admittedly rough.
“I got there on a Tuesday,” Wilkes recalls clearly. “I walked into the compound and was shell-shocked. For the first 30 days, I couldn’t sleep; I was in shock.”
Wilkes is relishing her newfound freedom, as she looks towards the Passover holiday—and the future.
But Tuesday at Homestead has its privileges: A rabbi would visit. And on the very day that Wilkes arrived in prison, Rabbi Yossi Harlig, co-director of the Chabad Center of Kendall & Pinecrest in Miami, was there spending time with inmates.
“I was not in the compound three hours when I saw a rabbi there. I was like a kid with a blanket. Who knew rabbis went to prisons? At that moment, I realized I could do this.”
She would get through it. And the rabbis associated with the Aleph Institute would help her.
The Florida-based Aleph Institute was founded in 1981 at the direction of the Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—to provide for the spiritual and physical needs of Jewish soldiers and prisoners, and their families, throughout the United States.
After she noticed the rabbi, Wilkes remembers seeing a woman wearing a Jewish star. “I approached her, and she took me to meet the group. There were about 12 to 15 women at any given time who were part of a Jewish group, a sisterhood of sorts. We met in a room on Tuesdays to talk—the same day we received visits from volunteers from Chabad.”
(Women from The Shul of Bal Harbour in Surfside, Fla., she notes, visited twice a month. And upon Wilkes’ release, they brought her essential items upon her release from prison—toiletries, sheets, towels, even clothes.)
Boxes of kosher-for-Passover goods that the Florida-based Aleph Institute sends to Jewish men and women incarcerated in the United States.
The group was also allowed in the room—a chapel area they dubbed “The Jew Room”—on Fridays evenings, where they would light Shabbat candles, have grape juice and challah, and hold a little service. The items were brought in by Aleph—namely, by program director Rabbi Menachem Katz, who Wilkes says provided them with packages on Jewish holidays, made sure there werekosher items at the prison canteen they could purchase, and more recently, worked to get them access to kosher food as part of an “RDP,” a religious diet plan. He also regularly visited and counseled them.
(There are about 250 Jewish women in prison in the United States, with about 50 in Florida alone, according to the rabbi.)
“It’s amazing how much one person can accomplish,” she says, crediting much to Katz. “There are not enough superlatives to describe him.”
Wilkes says the women there “were like a little family. We drew strength from each other. On those two days, we didn’t feel like we were in prison. We had a door we could shut. We talked about peer pressure, how to make decisions—conversations basic to where we were.”
A selection of Passover food items, which Wilkes received during her time in the Homestead Correctional Institution.
Though she grew up in a Jewish home in a Jewish neighborhood, lighting Shabbat candles, celebrating holidays and walking to synagogue, often with her father, Wilkes says she “learned a lot about the true meaning of Judaism in prison.”
‘A Stop on the Way’
What was it like, day in and day out?
Wilkes cites copious rules and restrictions, stereotypical starchy food and plain old boredom, which she tried to counter with exercise and activities. She says classes took place every day, and she made the most of them, leaving, she notes, with 23 certificates. She took two correspondence courses: “Kosher for the Clueless” and “Bible for the Clueless.” She studied Torah with her group. There were chores to be done.
Even though she felt it was a “Jewish-friendly compound,” she acknowledges animosity with other prisoners, who felt her group received privileges they did not. She admits to being afraid. “There were people you’d try to avoid. Other inmates were jealous. I had never been in a fight in my life, and I tried to keep it that way. There was prejudice. We felt hated.”
Her daughter sent her some money each month for extras from the canteen, and family members occasionally visited, including her brother. Unlike some of the “lifers,” Wilkes says she took comfort in knowing that she had a release date. “For me, it was a stop on the way. How could I complain? Some women were never getting out.”
The worst part? Missing her daughter’s wedding in October.
The best part? The people she met, who she says she thinks about every day. “When I light my Shabbat candles, mentally, I am there with them. I cried the last day because of those I left behind.”
The staples were a lifeline as she reignited her Jewish practice while incarcerated.
For the time being, Wilkes lives in her own room in a three-bedroom house in North Miami run by Positive Images Transitional Housing; curfew is at 10 p.m. She landed a job as a salad chef at an Italian market and cafe, working six days a week. She is enjoying simple pleasures like talking on the phone, using the house computer, having a soft pillow and a real toothbrush (“I have this incredible Colgate 360, not the state stuff”), wearing shoes with laces, and just turning on and off the lights when she wants to—something the incarcerated are not allowed to do. Her family got her a bicycle, and riding it, she says, is “a blessing.”
Another change: She has been using her Hebrew name, Simcha, which she started doing in prison. “I connected more with myself there. It’s hard to be happy—the meaning of simcha—in prison, but I wasn’t going to let it change who I am. Prison brought my religion back to me; it was a battery-charger.”
She is really looking forward to the Passover seder with about 15 other guests at a cousin’s new home—the first seder with her family in 10 years. (Wilkes was granted special permission to attend since the holiday celebration goes long into the night.) She even plans to go over on Thursday to help with the preparations; she wants it to be “the best seder ever.”
“This year, the Passover story, it’s not just words on a page,” she says heavily.
As for life lessons, for imparting some of the newfound wisdom she’s acquired the hard way, she chooses not to dwell on what she cannot change. “Sometimes, we do things without thinking them through. I made a stupid mistake. But one mistake does not make the person. You’re not your past; you’re your future. You can only change going forward.”
“This year, the Passover story, it’s not just words on a page,” says Wilkes.
Just Out of Prison, One Woman’s Deeper Freedom This Passover
It was a very special Passover for Shari Wilkes, just out of prison after more than three years, where she was helped by rabbinic chaplains and is now looking forward to a more spiritual life by Carin M. Smilk
Shari Wilkes of South Florida is starting a new life after nearly four years in prison. This photo was taken in a local park shortly after she was released last month, one of the few photos she has after losing her possessions.
Shari Wilkes has no photo albums. She has no pots and pans, no favorite handbag or set of stationary. No fleece throws for the couch, no tchotchkes, houseplants or fancy dinner dishes. No little box of buttons and safety pins and paper clips collected over the years and kept in a convenient drawer. Wilkes, 50, just got out of prison, and in the three years and 11 months she was there, like many semblances of her former life, her things are gone.
She says she lost everything after her arrest and ensuing incarceration. Long divorced and not a homeowner, she had been storing her furniture and belongings at a friend’s house, but “four years is a long time.”
The details of her crime involve stolen goods from a pawn shop, something she’d rather not discuss. What sent the Miami native and former preschool teacher to the Homestead Correctional Institution in Florida City, Fla., in October of 2012 was the result of a series of bad decisions, she says, and a lifestyle she’d rather leave behind.
She will, however, talk about the past when it comes to her daughter, now 30, as well as Wilkes’ large extended (and supportive) family in South Florida, where she is currently living to be near them. She’ll talk about growing up in an active Jewish household, with warm memories and traditions, and the resurgence of Judaism and practice in her life that began on day one in prison. She’ll talk about the rabbis who visited her. And she will describe her time in prison—the days on end, the pros and cons, the effect it had on her and the good that came out of it.
“I am a better me than when I went in,” says Wilkes. “I learned so much and met some wonderful people. You don’t realize what you get from people sometimes.”
It’s not lost on her that the timing of her release, March 7, fell just weeks before the Jewish holiday that celebrates freedom, something she grappled with day after day behind bars. “I am looking forward to the future, to thePassover message. I understand the meaning of freedom like never before.”
Still, she adds: “You can be free no matter where you are—and you can be imprisoned. It’s all in your state of mind.”
‘Like a Little Family’
That first day in prison was admittedly rough.
“I got there on a Tuesday,” Wilkes recalls clearly. “I walked into the compound and was shell-shocked. For the first 30 days, I couldn’t sleep; I was in shock.”
Wilkes is relishing her newfound freedom, as she looks towards the Passover holiday—and the future.
But Tuesday at Homestead has its privileges: A rabbi would visit. And on the very day that Wilkes arrived in prison, Rabbi Yossi Harlig, co-director of the Chabad Center of Kendall & Pinecrest in Miami, was there spending time with inmates.
“I was not in the compound three hours when I saw a rabbi there. I was like a kid with a blanket. Who knew rabbis went to prisons? At that moment, I realized I could do this.”
She would get through it. And the rabbis associated with the Aleph Institute would help her.
The Florida-based Aleph Institute was founded in 1981 at the direction of the Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—to provide for the spiritual and physical needs of Jewish soldiers and prisoners, and their families, throughout the United States.
After she noticed the rabbi, Wilkes remembers seeing a woman wearing a Jewish star. “I approached her, and she took me to meet the group. There were about 12 to 15 women at any given time who were part of a Jewish group, a sisterhood of sorts. We met in a room on Tuesdays to talk—the same day we received visits from volunteers from Chabad.”
(Women from The Shul of Bal Harbour in Surfside, Fla., she notes, visited twice a month. And upon Wilkes’ release, they brought her essential items upon her release from prison—toiletries, sheets, towels, even clothes.)
Boxes of kosher-for-Passover goods that the Florida-based Aleph Institute sends to Jewish men and women incarcerated in the United States.
The group was also allowed in the room—a chapel area they dubbed “The Jew Room”—on Fridays evenings, where they would light Shabbat candles, have grape juice and challah, and hold a little service. The items were brought in by Aleph—namely, by program director Rabbi Menachem Katz, who Wilkes says provided them with packages on Jewish holidays, made sure there werekosher items at the prison canteen they could purchase, and more recently, worked to get them access to kosher food as part of an “RDP,” a religious diet plan. He also regularly visited and counseled them.
(There are about 250 Jewish women in prison in the United States, with about 50 in Florida alone, according to the rabbi.)
“It’s amazing how much one person can accomplish,” she says, crediting much to Katz. “There are not enough superlatives to describe him.”
Wilkes says the women there “were like a little family. We drew strength from each other. On those two days, we didn’t feel like we were in prison. We had a door we could shut. We talked about peer pressure, how to make decisions—conversations basic to where we were.”
A selection of Passover food items, which Wilkes received during her time in the Homestead Correctional Institution.
Though she grew up in a Jewish home in a Jewish neighborhood, lighting Shabbat candles, celebrating holidays and walking to synagogue, often with her father, Wilkes says she “learned a lot about the true meaning of Judaism in prison.”
‘A Stop on the Way’
What was it like, day in and day out?
Wilkes cites copious rules and restrictions, stereotypical starchy food and plain old boredom, which she tried to counter with exercise and activities. She says classes took place every day, and she made the most of them, leaving, she notes, with 23 certificates. She took two correspondence courses: “Kosher for the Clueless” and “Bible for the Clueless.” She studied Torah with her group. There were chores to be done.
Even though she felt it was a “Jewish-friendly compound,” she acknowledges animosity with other prisoners, who felt her group received privileges they did not. She admits to being afraid. “There were people you’d try to avoid. Other inmates were jealous. I had never been in a fight in my life, and I tried to keep it that way. There was prejudice. We felt hated.”
Her daughter sent her some money each month for extras from the canteen, and family members occasionally visited, including her brother. Unlike some of the “lifers,” Wilkes says she took comfort in knowing that she had a release date. “For me, it was a stop on the way. How could I complain? Some women were never getting out.”
The worst part? Missing her daughter’s wedding in October.
The best part? The people she met, who she says she thinks about every day. “When I light my Shabbat candles, mentally, I am there with them. I cried the last day because of those I left behind.”
The staples were a lifeline as she reignited her Jewish practice while incarcerated.
For the time being, Wilkes lives in her own room in a three-bedroom house in North Miami run by Positive Images Transitional Housing; curfew is at 10 p.m. She landed a job as a salad chef at an Italian market and cafe, working six days a week. She is enjoying simple pleasures like talking on the phone, using the house computer, having a soft pillow and a real toothbrush (“I have this incredible Colgate 360, not the state stuff”), wearing shoes with laces, and just turning on and off the lights when she wants to—something the incarcerated are not allowed to do. Her family got her a bicycle, and riding it, she says, is “a blessing.”
Another change: She has been using her Hebrew name, Simcha, which she started doing in prison. “I connected more with myself there. It’s hard to be happy—the meaning of simcha—in prison, but I wasn’t going to let it change who I am. Prison brought my religion back to me; it was a battery-charger.”
She is really looking forward to the Passover seder with about 15 other guests at a cousin’s new home—the first seder with her family in 10 years. (Wilkes was granted special permission to attend since the holiday celebration goes long into the night.) She even plans to go over on Thursday to help with the preparations; she wants it to be “the best seder ever.”
“This year, the Passover story, it’s not just words on a page,” she says heavily.
As for life lessons, for imparting some of the newfound wisdom she’s acquired the hard way, she chooses not to dwell on what she cannot change. “Sometimes, we do things without thinking them through. I made a stupid mistake. But one mistake does not make the person. You’re not your past; you’re your future. You can only change going forward.”
“This year, the Passover story, it’s not just words on a page,” says Wilkes.
-------
In Flooded Houston: ‘Let All Who Are Hungry Come and Eat’
Chabad offers room at the seder table for those affected by floodwaters. by Faygie Levy Holt
Rabbi Yossi Zaklikofsky, co-director of The Shul of Bellaire, was trapped in his car on Monday when more than 10 inches of rain fell in a matter of hours in Houston, flooding waterways, streets and neighborhoods.
Many Jewish residents in Houston were forced to put Passover preparations on the backburner as they focused on clearing water from their homes this week after record flooding closed schools, shut down the city’s mass-transit system and led to hundreds of emergency rescues throughout the city.
Seven people were killed, more than 1,000 homes were destroyed, and damages were so far estimated at $5 billion as a result of the floodwaters, which came 11 months after another historic storm caused the deaths of eight people, and also severely damaged area homes and property. More than 10 inches of rain fell in a matter of hours earlier this week, overwhelming waterways and streets, and causing severe flooding in the city.
And there may be more to come as Houston remains under a flash flood watch, with some rain is forecast for the next few days.
The damage from Monday’s storm was particularly harsh in the lower-lying Meyerland and Willow Meadows neighborhoods, as the Brays Bayou again overran its banks and sent water flowing into homes, much as it did last May.
At least two synagogues, the United Orthodox Synagogues of Houston and Meyerland Minyan, sustained some water damage during Monday’s flood. But it was housing that got the worst of it—yet again.
“People finally got back into their homes in the last couple of weeks, and now their houses are flooded again,” reports Rabbi Chaim Lazaroff, program director of Chabad Lubavitch Center Regional Headquarters in Houston, who was in New York when the storm hit, and initially coordinated efforts through emails, texts and WhatsApp messaging. He returned to Houston on Tuesday. “I know some of the people who are flooded, and we’ve reached out to extend our help and let them know they have a place to stay if they need it.”
The heavy rains came 11 months after another historic storm. (Photo: Courtesy of Peretz Golding)
He adds that Chabad of Houston is currently “assessing the situation and mobilizing our response” to provide any aid that’s needed.
‘All Are Welcome’
As of now, two displaced families will spend Passover in Aishel House, which provides temporary apartments for families who have a loved one undergoing treatment at the Texas Medical Center in Houston. Because the building is currently under renovation, only a handful of the planned 27 apartments are usable; Aishel House has made those units available to families who need them.
“Our mission is to provide housing for patients and their families in a time of medical crisis,” says Rabbi Eliezer Lazaroff, executive director of Chabad at Texas Medical Center. His wife, Rochel Lazaroff, is program director. The couple also runs Aishel House. “These are extenuating circumstances and a crisis—an emergency situation for these families who, right before Pesach, are in a lurch. We thought it was important to provide them with this kind of assistance.
“By being here at Aishel House, it’s not just that they will have a place to stay, but we will have the seders here, and there’s a shul for holiday services,” he continues. “If they have to rent an apartment somewhere else, they are not going to be in proximity in a shul, and it won’t be the same kind of holiday.”
A man from the community talks to a driver that pulled onto his lawn to get out of the rising water. (Photo: Courtesy of Peretz Golding)
Community members help a neighbor push his flooded car out of the water. (Photo: Courtesy of Peretz Golding)
The Lazaroffs will be offering food as well. Rochel Lazaroff has been preparing and cooking for a Passover crowd that just got a bit bigger.
“I think of Abraham and Sarah as the epitome of hospitality, and when someone in your community is displaced, it’s an absolute honor to be able to help them,” says Rochel Lazaroff. “If we can alleviate any of their hardship, that’s what we are going to do.”
She notes that people have been calling her and volunteering to help as well: “Good will is underestimated; there’s a lot more than is publicized.”
That good will is extended throughout Houston as regional Chabad centers are offering attendance at Passover seders, at no charge, to anyone affected by the storms.
“All are welcome to come and participate in our eight area seders,” says Rabbi Chaim Lazaroff. “Chabad will underwrite the costs of the seder for anyone whose home was flooded.”
Loss of Power and Property
Even those whose homes were not underwater were impacted by the weather.
Rabbi Mendel and Leah Blecher, who run Chabad of The Woodlands, have been dealing with a loss of power, while co-director of The Shul of Bellaire, Rabbi Yossi Zaklikofsky, posted a public “thank you” on Facebook to the local police officers and concerned neighbors who came to his aid when he was trapped in his car by rising water.
A flooded street in a Jewish neighborhood just days before the start of Passover. (Photo: Courtesy of Peretz Golding)
Rabbi Moishe Traxler, director of Chabad Outreach of Houston, recounts that when a community member who was slated to join them at synagogue for morning prayers didn’t show, everyone started getting concerned.
Noting that the young man was new to the area and unprepared for such circumstances, a group of community members went out to look for him. They found him a bit later physically fine, though he had lost his car, cell phone and laptop to the floodwaters.
Nevertheless, all were very much relieved. Says Traxler: “Thank G‑d, he was OK.”
A flash-flood watch remains in effect for the city as more rain is expected in the next day or two. Chabad Houston has established a relief fund here.
Chabad of Houston is working to provide aid to those affected by the flooding, including inviting all those who need to attend the Passover seder. Here, water swirls in front of the Chabad Lubavitch Center in Fondren Southwest. (Photo: Courtesy of Peretz Golding)
Water pools in front of a local kosher pizza shop. (Photo: Courtesy of Peretz Golding)
---------------------
No comments:
Post a Comment