Passover is the festival of freedom, celebrating the liberation of the Hebrew slaves from the tyranny of an evil Pharaoh. One of the most notable elements of Passover is the ritual telling of the story of the Jewish people. And it typically occurs around a dinner table during a ritual called the “seder.”
The seder, which means “order,” offers an organized script that includes explanations of symbols on the table, food and objects that represent the plight of the Hebrew slaves. Throughout history, the retelling of the story has been clear: No matter how observant you are, no matter your age or ethnicity, no matter your political affiliation or opinions about current events, as a Jew, you belong at the table.
In a world in which cancel culture reigns and communities are built solely on aligned views, the ancient holiday of Passover is a potential balm to broken families, estranged friends, neighbors everywhere and every citizen. The Haggadah, the seder “prayerbook” offers the following instruction: “Let all those who are hungry, come and eat…this year we are slaves; next year may we be free.” At first glance, one might assume the text is only speaking about offering a meal to those who need shelter, giving some respite from the natural conditions of a harsh and cold night. While this may be true, the “seat at the table” offers much more than a one-time meal.
As a nation, we have starved ourselves from sitting with those that think or feel differently from us. Whatever the topic, it often feels easier to isolate oneself and instead, choose to only be surrounded by like-minded individuals. In doing so, we separate from family, the closest of friends and succumb to a deprivation of debate and dialogue. This deficit of exchange has led to polarization, divisiveness, and hatred of the other.
Passover is an invitation: Let those who are hungry for conversation and connection come and eat. Let those who are yearning for their voice to be heard and included in our thousands of years tradition sit around the table. An opportunity to hear new ideas and reflections. A chance to grow our minds and expand our hearts. The Haggadah wasn’t a prayerbook meant to read in a static environment. Passover reminds us, freedom is antithetical to silence. Freedom asks each person to think and answer the central question of Passover: How is this night different from all other nights? For you? For all of us?
The Passover Haggadah includes a passage in which four children learn about the meaning of the holiday. The four children are described as being very different from each other. One is considered wise, another rebellious, one as innocent and the final, as unable to ask a question at all. Rabbinic law explains that a parent should teach each child according to their own ability to learn. Whether the child is interested in hearing about the laws of Passover or perhaps sees themselves as distanced from the religion, they are encouraged to sit at the table. It is upon us to bring the child closer. To help the child realize that no matter how they feel or what they express, the seat will always be theirs. However, the key to Passover is understanding that we all continue to be children—asking, searching, wondering, seeking a place for understanding.
It has been said the four children represent four facets of our own personality. That throughout our lives, we will feel included, ostracized, misunderstood or silenced. Passover reminds us that no matter how embraced or distanced we might feel, a seat at the table should never be removed. This message is one of the driving forces behind our synagogue, Sinai Temple’s vision, “Open Doors.” We will continue to explore and actively open doors that have felt closed to seeking Jews. No Jew should feel as if they don’t have a “seat” within the Jewish community.
The universal message of Passover is clear: Historically, in each faith, culture and family, there has been a sense of feeling alone. Alone because someone actively made us feel this way or alone through our perception of a situation. Isolation pervades time, traveling through generations. Personally, and collectively, we can each name moments in which we wonder about our belonging and acceptance. When the Jews leave Egypt, they wander through the wilderness for 40 years. The Promised Land does not appear overnight. Radical acceptance from others and of others is perhaps, naïve. However, acceptance begins with a step, an invitation to sit together and hear each other’s perspectives. This openness is unquestionably essential to begin the healing of rising polarization and expanded divisiveness.
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While some differences are hard to overcome and answers may be even harder to find, the essence of Passover is clear. Questioning, wondering, and, indisputably, debating are fundamental building blocks of civil discourse. We need not close the door to family, friends, neighbors or community members that think differently. Providing a space in which questions and disagreements are welcomed may very well be the start to creating an overarching culture of mutual respect, inclusiveness and connection, even among our differences.
The road to freedom – to a preservation of dialogue and a celebration of diversity – is not meant to be walked alone. Whether or not you celebrate the Passover festival, it serves as an annual invitation and reminder to us all to sit together and engage in community – sometimes agreeing, other times differing. But always, seated at the table, humbling listening, reflecting, learning, and growing.
Rabbi Guzik serves as one of the co-senior rabbis at Sinai Temple, one of the largest synagogues in Los Angeles. She is also a trained Marriage and Family Therapist.
