Embracing Both/And this Pesach (and, hear us on KUOW!)
The Shabbat we'll enter into this evening is nicknamed "Shabbat HaGadol," "the Great Shabbat" -- so called because Jews everywhere turn our attention towards Pesach! Indeed, here in the Kavana community, so many conversations in recent weeks have already been focused around the central question of how to approach the Passover holiday in this very fraught year.
The Haftarah for Shabbat HaGadol features the famous words of the prophet Malachi: "Lo, I will send the prophet Elijah to you... and he shall reconcile parents with children and children with their parents" (Malachi 3:23-24). Here, Malachi is leaning into one of the central themes of the Passover holiday: generational transmission. Fundamentally, this holiday, and particularly the seder ritual, pushes us to articulate and share -- from one generation to the next -- the central story of who we are as a people.
But of course, there's not a single "right" central idea that needs to be conveyed (oy, how Jewish!). This week in Living Room Learning, we had a chance to dig into two key statements from the Haggadah's Maggid section, both of which contain the phrase "b'chol dor vador," "in each and every generation." They are:
1) Haggadah - middle of Maggid (after “our ancestors were idol worshippers")
וְהִיא שֶׁעָמְדָה לַאֲבוֹתֵינוּ וְלָנוּ. שֶׁלֹּא אֶחָד בִּלְבַד עָמַד עָלֵינוּ לְכַלּוֹתֵנוּ, אֶלָּא שֶׁבְּכָל דּוֹר וָדוֹר עוֹמְדִים עָלֵינוּ לְכַלוֹתֵנוּ, וְהַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא מַצִּילֵנוּ מִיָּדָם
And it is this that has stood for our ancestors and for us; since it is not [only] one [person or nation] that has stood [against] us to destroy us, but rather in each and every generation, they stand [against] us to destroy us, but the Holy Blessed One rescues us from their hand.
2) Haggadah - towards end of Maggid (after Rabban Gamliel’s 3 symbols; before Hallel)
בְּכָל־דּוֹר וָדוֹר חַיָּב אָדָם לִרְאוֹת אֶת־עַצְמוֹ כְּאִלּוּ הוּא יָצָא מִמִּצְרַיִם, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר: וְהִגַּדְתָּ לְבִנְךָ בַּיּוֹם הַהוּא לֵאמֹר, בַּעֲבוּר זֶה עָשָׂה ה' לִי בְּצֵאתִי מִמִּצְרַיִם. לֹא אֶת־אֲבוֹתֵינוּ בִּלְבַד גָּאַל הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא, אֶלָּא אַף אוֹתָנוּ גָּאַל עִמָּהֶם, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר: וְאוֹתָנוּ הוֹצִיא מִשָּׁם, לְמַעַן הָבִיא אוֹתָנוּ, לָתֶת לָנוּ אֶת־הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר נִשְׁבַּע לַאֲבֹתֵינו
In each and every generation, a person is obligated to see himself as if he left Egypt, as it is stated (Exodus 13:8); "And you shall explain to your son on that day: For the sake of this, did the Lord do [this] for me in my going out of Egypt." Not only our ancestors did the Holy Blessed One redeem, but rather also us [together] with them did God redeem, as it is stated (Deuteronomy 6:23); "And [Adonai] took us out from there, in order to bring us in, to give us the land which [God] swore unto our fathers."
The first statement focuses us on the long arc of Jewish history, and the fact that in each generation, some "they" has inevitably risen up against our people. From here, we might conclude that Passover is fundamentally a story about our collective survival in the face of a hostile world.
The second statement, in contrast, reminds us that each of us, personally, has an obligation to try to relate to the feeling of having been oppressed and redeemed. This concept is the animating force behind the Torah's repeated commands about not wronging or oppressing a stranger (in the negative formulation) and about loving the stranger (in the positive formulation), "for you were strangers in the land of Egypt" (see Exodus 23:9, Leviticus 19:33-34, and many other biblical examples!). In this telling, the central story of Passover is that -- based on our own history of oppression -- we must root out oppression wherever we see it manifest in the world.
In the wake of October 7th and the events that have unfolded in Gaza, Israel, and around the world every day since, these two statements may tug against each other. Some Jews (depending on affiliation, generation, political leanings, etc.) may be tempted to embrace and champion one of these statements and to dismiss the other. But the placement of both of these ideas in the haggadah urges us to adopt a both/and approach: embracing tensions and paradox, and dealing with the messiness and complexity of a world in which both have some merit. (Yes, it's okay to care about both the rise of antisemitism and the plight of Palestinians, the safety of Jews in America and Israel and a wide range of other social justice issues. Passover can be about all of that and more!) This both/and approach also manifests in our food symbols, as we dip the green vegetable of spring into the salt water of tears, and eat the bitter herbs together with sweet charoset.
As to how to hold space for the hard but important conversations that may happen around the table at Passover, we also talked about that on Wednesday evening at LRL. There, I shared a set of guidelines for this year's seder compiled by Rabbi Amy Eilberg (who has a long rabbinical career in peace work):
Speak in the first person about your experiences and opinions.
Share from a place of authenticity about what causes you pain and brings you joy.
Speak for understanding, not persuasion or agreement.
Agree to be awkward and know that your contributions will be received with care.
Give everyone at the table the benefit of the doubt.
Approach each other with curiosity.
Listen actively and generously.
Love each other.
I hope that some of you will find these guidelines to be helpful, as you approach your own seders.
Finally, if you are feeling some degree of angst or trepidation as we head into Passover, please know that you are far from alone! In fact, KUOW reporter Sarah Leibovitz produced a 15-minute radio piece that aired yesterday, entitled "Intergenerational Tension: How Seattle Jews are Considering Passover this Year." Click here to give it a listen (through the Soundside's Apple Podcast) or click here to listen and read (through the KUOW website)... and when you do, you may notice that mine is not the only voice from within the Kavana community (shout out to Tamara Erickson and Tracy Brazg!). To me, this only reinforces how special it is that we here at Kavana are working hard to hold open a wide tent of views around Israel, and to engage in real conversations grounded in our Jewish values and texts, even (and especially) across difference.
This year especially, may multiple generations sit around seder tables everywhere, expounding on our exodus from Egypt, and discussing what it means to be a Jew today! Wishing you a meaningful and joyous Pesach next week, and meanwhile, a Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Rachel Nussbaum
