Tzav

Like many of you, I’ve been spending the majority of my days this past week in the house. There is no shortage of work to be done between my job, my schoolwork, and my volunteer hours spent hosting virtual lunches and meetings. My days are full, unlike some of my family and friends who are looking for movies, books, and television shows to pass the hours. However, during a Zoom lunch yesterday with my college roommate, she told me how she has been cleaning out a file cabinet that had belonged to her mother who died 7 years ago. She has spent hours going through the contents of the files, reading letters saved, and throwing away receipts, bills, and other papers no longer needed. It reminded me of the orange three-ring binder I have saved for the last 40 years in which I filed my wedding details. Being an organizer, I had divided the notebook into sections according to the details of my wedding – from the guest list to the catering, from the DJ’s song list to the order of the ceremony. Every detail was kept within the binder that has been on my shelf for four decades. Those details led to a day of holiness and celebration, one that changed my life forever. The details at times were tedious and time-consuming. But the effort paid off in ways that can’t be measured.

In reading this week’s parasha, Tzav, I felt the same tedious process for the sacrifices that were to be offered. Verse upon verse laid out the process for each sacrifice, like a well-written cookbook. Without each step leading to the actual sacrifice, the holy act of coming close to God cannot be attained. The keva, the practice of repeating the sacrificial offerings, leads to kavanah, the elevated status of the one making the offering.

How many times do we, as well, repeat an action, without giving much thought to it, that has the potential to elevate or transform our selves? Sometimes it takes a jolt to our normality to awaken us and renew our intentions.

And so it is this year as we prepare to celebrate, yes – celebrate, Pesach in the week ahead. Ma nishtana ha’laila haze … not “why is this night different” as much as HOW DIFFERENT IS “THIS” NIGHT. This night, of this year, will be unlike any that most of us has ever experienced. Rather than setting three or four tables, I will set one table. Rather than having the chaos of children running through the house looking for an afikomen, I will offer an online search of some kind. And instead of stressing over how to fit the friend of a friend that someone wants to invite, my seder will be open to anyone and everyone who wishes to attend.

This year when we read Ha lachma anya, which invites all who are hungry to come and eat, the words take on new meaning. We are all hungry this year. Maybe not for charoset or Brian Serle’s matzo balls, but this year our hunger goes deeper. This year we hunger for good health, for physical closeness, for an end to the 2020 plague. We are commanded to observe Pesach, and to view ourselves as if we were the ones who were liberated. This year we are still in Mitzrayim, we are still living in narrowness. We aren’t doing this with a large group around the table, but rather each of us individually in our own dwellings, and perhaps in front of a computer screen. Yes, this night of this year will truly be different.

I’ve hosted our family seder for I can’t remember how many years. But those details that take days to accomplish are being reworked in my mind. I thought I’d share a few of my adjustments to how my seder details are coming together:

My guest list has not changed. But some of those who were traveling and would not be able to come are now planning to come … to Zoom.

For the holiday candles – bring your own to light

*For the karpas – bring something green

*For maror – bring something bitter or sour

*For charoset – bring an apple chopped with cinnamon & sugar, a little wine and some nuts (unless you are allergic)

*For the bone – bring your own

*For the egg – roast one and show it off (if you can find eggs)

*For matza – if unavailable, bring a piece of cardboard, or a rice cake/cracker/flatbread

*For the pillow – this year we will all recline to the left to celebrate the freedoms that we can enjoy, even now

*I have masks for the 10 plagues

*I’ll host a Q/A about Passover for the 4 Questions

*For the Afikomen the kids will guide me around the house to find the hidden matza, or maybe their parents will hide some matza at their own home

*We all will open our individual doors in the hopes that Elijah will join us

*We will end by finishing the sentence: Next year we will …

*And guests will be invited to have dinner in front of their computers if they wish to stay tuned in.

While we all are thinking about the personal sacrifices we will be making this year in completing the details for the upcoming holiday, I’d like to put a positive spin on this all. Yes, over the centuries, our communal Jewish life has evolved. This year, however, feels more like an earthquake, tornado, hurricane or whatever disaster you relate to from your corner of the world. Our goal remains to take those details, much like our ancestors did, and to create an act of holiness. This year we are provided with the opportunity to stretch our imaginations, to create a meaningful holiday that will speak to us in the future as having seen ourselves as personally experiencing Mitzrayim (narrow places).  And emerging, hopefully soon, into the openness of freedom – freedom to move, to physically hug our family and friends, and to get on with what was normal just a few weeks ago.

May this Shabbat HaGadol, this great Sabbath as it is called, lead us to a Pesach unlike any other, one that will raise our awareness of God’s presence in our lives and lead us to a life of mitzvot.

Ken yehi ratzon – May it be God’s will.