AN INTERFAITH PASSOVER SEDER:
A
TEACHABLE MOMENT OR AN OXYMORON
I am going to make a generalization
and speculate that few people reading this article are unfamiliar with
Passover, or have not at least heard of the holiday. In a country that many
consider Christian, many of our holidays take on the tenor of public, secular
holidays. Passover, however, is one that manages to continue to convey deep
religious significance for both Jews and Christians. In case you are not
familiar with Passover, keep reading and you will gain a beginner’s knowledge
of this “Festival of Freedom”.
THE ‘MUST
HAVE’ ELEMENTS OF A SEDER
If you peruse any haggadah (book about the seder) you will notice that there are
many elements to a seder. To begin with, the word seder simply means order or the manner in which the meal and
service will proceed. It is a highly designed and orchestrated order, similar
to a pageant. Secondly, the haggadah is the book which contains the seder and
all the details of the story, or maggid.
When
you break the seder down to the
elements that are actually required or commanded in Torah, there are only three: maggid—
telling of the story; maror—eating of bitter herbs like horseradish;
Everything else has been added on as an embellishment to enhance the experience of remembrance in an effort to relive the experience of our ancestors.
WHAT MAKES A SEDER “INTERFAITH”?
Let me start by saying that I really
love Passover. It is my favorite Jewish holiday, I mean, what’s not to love?
You get to eat those yummy (translate tasteless) unleavened crackers that leave
crumbs all over your exceptionally clean house that you and your lovely family
just spend days eradicating of every crumb of leavened, sugary, tasty goodness.
All that work to allow the invasion of new crumbs, and not just any
crumbs—these are crumbs that you will vacuuming and sweeping up from now until
the 4th of July—ironic since that is the American freedom festival—because
they are so evasive to cleaning and love to hang around.
Truthfully, what I love is not the
cleaning, unpacking dishes, endless recipe hunt, shopping, but the feeling of
connection and having family and friends join us for an evening, or two, of
fun, song, stories and sometimes, irreverence (the latter is attributed to
contributions of my sons). Over the years we have created family wherever we
lived and invited numerous guests of all ages to join us at our table. We
invited Jews and non-Jews, neighbors, colleagues from work, friends of our
sons, people we met whom we found interesting and the stranger in our midst.
The table was always full, usually overflowing, the conversations animated, the
food excellent and varied, and there was always a good-natured argument about
how to proceed with the order (seder) of the meal.
Throughout my life I have
participated in so many Passover seders; from those of my childhood—four hours
of torture conducted in Hebrew—to the early feeble attempts my husband and I
made with our young children thinking something was better than nothing. We
learned as we taught others, we explored ideas, we found new haggadot (books
for the seder) and tried them out on our unsuspecting family and friends,
experimented with recipes—perfected some and discarded others—and in the
process elevated the place of Passover in our home and our lives.
Somewhere in all of this I was asked
to lead my first Interfaith Passover Seder. I did so as my husband and I did
ours at home; it never occurred to me that communion would be a part of
Passover. I guess I was naïve because at the end, there it was, and there I
was, speechless. I had been to Christian Seders so I knew what to expect, but
they were Christian, so I wasn't surprised, I expected that to occur. I also
understood they would draw parallels between aspects of Passover and the
crucifixion of Jesus. While I personally find this uncomfortable, it was after
all, a Christian Seder, and I was a guest so I didn’t feel that I had a right
to voice my opposition or make any corrections.
An Interfaith Passover Seder is
different; in my experience, it is very challenging to have a truly “Interfaith”
Passover celebration. This is the crux of the separation of the two faiths:
Judaism continues to observe Passover as a freedom festival—the passage from
the bondage and slavery in Egypt to freedom and self-determination in the
Promised Land of what is now modern-day Israel. Christianity observes Passover
as the Last Supper—the betrayal of Jesus by one of his disciples and the
catalyst of the events leading to his crucifixion and ultimately the birth of a
new religion.
Since the early days, I have led many
Interfaith Passover Seders, some have been very engaging, some have been illogical
and uncomfortable; all have involved careful planning and making deliberate
decisions about what to do and what not to do or say. There are those Christian
congregations who employ the symbolism of the Passover Seder as a means to educate
their congregations about their theological understanding of the divinity of
Jesus. As I have already stated, they do so by drawing parallels between the
symbols of the elements on the seder plate—the maror (bitter herbs), matzo
(unleavened bread), zeroa (roasted shank bone)—and the crucifixion of Jesus. I
consider these to be Christian Seders. From a Jewish perspective, this
undermines the original purpose and intention of Passover and results in
co-opting one tradition to meet the desire of another.
You may be wondering what is
problematic about this idea and why it has been brought it up in this
discussion. That’s a good question and one that deserves thoughtful
consideration. This is, after all, a forum for interfaith conversations—finding
a place where two or more faith traditions meet in an effort to find those connections
that will overcome theological barriers and seek the oneness between the spaces
of their differences.
However, when that space between the
differences obliterates the meaning and purpose of the original rite, then perhaps
there is no place for it at the table. I recently had a discussion with a new
friend about this topic. As I explained that in the past when I led interfaith
seders I would only agree to do so if they agreed not to have communion while I
was present. She found this odd and in a sense disturbing, since to her
communion was the logical conclusion of a Passover Seder. I was, in turn,
puzzled by her assertion that this was the logical conclusion to a seder. As we
discussed our differences, I began to realize that I had always viewed the
experience only through a Jewish lens, not through an interfaith lens.
With that realization, I revisited
the idea of an interfaith seder and walked through a traditional seder from a
different perspective—that of a learner, not a participant experiencing a seder
as a member of a faith tradition. I came to the conclusion that while, many
experiences are universal, this one is particular—it grew out of the practices
of a particular community of a particular faith tradition in a specific time in
history. Of course it has changed over time; the seder has been added to and
revised by the advent of modernity, but the basic format has remained unchanged
for generations. To institute a Christian element, even for the sake of interfaith
dialogue, feels disingenuous to me.
There are many similarities between
Christian communion and the sanctification of bread and wine during Jewish
festivals. In Jewish festivals, including Shabbat, we have prayers to sanctify
not only the day but also the wine and bread (or matzo during Passover).
Christians have prayers to sanctify the wine and wafers (called the host) which
make them holy for communion; without being consecrated in this manner they are
simply wine and unleavened crackers. What I learned from my friend (who happens
to be Catholic and a Eucharistic minister) is that while anyone may participate
in the ritual, only those who are Catholic may partake of the consecrated wine
and wafers. This provides a way for non-Catholics, or those who are no longer
active in the Church, to receive a blessing and not have to sit awkwardly in
the pew while everyone else moves forward to the altar.
I am grateful to my friend for
opening my eyes to a new way of thinking, new ideas and a new challenge. For
me, Passover will always be the celebration and commemoration of the freedom of
the children of Israel from Pharaoh and the Egyptian’s. I believe to include
communion diminishes the experience rather than enhancing it and will continue
to request it not be included in future interfaith seders that I lead. However,
I will do so with a different understanding and awareness and will be able to
explain my rationale in a manner that is neither offensive nor elitist. And
while I choose not to include communion in the seder, this new knowledge and
understanding provides a wonderful learning opportunity and discussion for an
interfaith seder.
CREATING YOUR OWN SEDER
As you gather with your interfaith
family, what new traditions will you try to incorporate this year? Will you be
able to utilize some of what I have written to open a discussion on how you can
have a meaningful seder with everyone present? Perhaps you will choose to
simply serve a meal made up of foods appropriate for Passover and talk about
why the menu is different today.
Fortunately for you the reader, there are a
myriad of resources to help you decide how to proceed. All you have to do is go to your
favorite search engine and type in Passover and off you go! There
you will discover a wealth of recipes to try, an abundance of tried
and true haggadot—even the Maxwell House Haggadah is still
available, children’s books, music, songs, puppets (yes, really,
plague puppets are all the rage), videos (try the Rugrats Passover
video for very young children) and games.
My family’s favorite at the moment is the Bob Marley
Haggadah (yes, really!) which we downloaded on our I-pads.
]
MAKING CHOICES
This year may present particular
challenges for some families since Passover and Easter fall together on the
same weekend. Holy Thursday is April 2 with Good Friday the following day. This
also happens to be the first night of Passover and the first seder; Saturday
will be second night seder. Sunday is Easter for Christians and begins the
second full day of Passover for Jews; the first two days of Passover are a chag, holy days when services are held
in synagogues and traditional Jews refrain from work.
For those of you in blended families
who refrain from eating foods containing leavening (yeast, baking soda, baking
powder to name a few ingredients) you may find Easter dinner to be interesting
at Grandma’s house. Moderation is always the key under these circumstances. Just
eat what you can, monitor your children’s intake to the extent possible, and
know that God has a sense of humor and there is always next year. The hardest
challenge is generally the candies and sweets because they contain sugars that
are not Passover approved—try explaining that to a four-year-old who is
devouring an Easter basket full of candy with her cousins! Life is full of compromises and this
is a prime example of the time to compromise instead of maintaining a rigid
stance. I admit that we eventually stopped the Easter visits partly because of
the tug-of-war between Easter treats and Passover restrictions. It became
easier to visit on another weekend when there were no restrictions on what my
kids could eat and no emphasis on their being ‘different’ from their cousins.
In the end, I encourage you to do
what we always do: celebrate with abandon, embrace your faith, family and
tradition and seek new pathways to connect another generation to their Jewish
roots. As always, feel free to contact me for information on anything contained
within this column. If you would like specific assistance with choosing a
haggadah or finding appropriate recipes for your Passover seder, please contact
me through www.interfaithlifecoaching.com
Chag Pesach Sameach—Happy Passover,
Margaret
No comments:
Post a Comment