Monica

seder-inspired questions

2022-04-26T02:24:41Z

An online Jewish community I'm fond of has some unanswered questions that came out of Pesach this year. Can you answer any of them, dear readers?

Why do we designate specific matzot for seder rituals? We break the middle matzah; we eat first from the top one and use the bottom one specifically for the Hillel sandwich. Why? What's the symbolism? (I'm aware of the interpretation that the three matzot symbolize the three "groups" of Jews -- kohein, levi, yisrael -- but that doesn't explain these positional associations.)
If your house is always kosher for Pesach, do you have to search for chameitz? That is, is the command to search for chameitz, period, or is it to search for any chameitz that might be in your house, and if you know there isn't any you skip it?
Why does making matzah require specific intent but building a sukkah doesn't? When making matzah (today I learned), it's not enough to follow the rules for production; you have to have the specific intent of making matzah for Pesach, or apparently it doesn't count. This "intent" rule applies to some other commandments too. But it doesn't apply to building a sukkah; you can even use a "found sukkah", something that happens to fulfill all the requirements that you didn't build yourself, to fulfill the obligation. Why the difference?

I tried searching for answers for these but was not successful. I have readers who know way more than I do (and who can read Hebrew sources better than I can). Can you help?

comments

a conversation on erev Pesach

2022-04-15T15:48:09Z

Them: Do you have room at your seder for two more?

Me: Of course.

Them: We don't want to impose.

Me: We'd love the company.

Them: Are you sure? We don't want you to have to cook extra at the last minute.

Me: "Let all who are hungry come and eat." Also, I cook on the assumption that Eliyahu and his entourage will appear at the door. It's fine.

(And if Eliyahu doesn't show up, I have food for lunch the next day.)

comments

leaving personal slavery: lessons from Pesach (class notes)

2020-04-22T01:50:33Z

Last night I watched the recording of a JLI class that had been given for free earlier in the day (but I had a work meeting at the time). The class is Leaving our personal slavery: 10 lessons from Passover for the whole year. taught by Sara Esther Crispe. I don't know anything about the teacher; I went there because I've taken several JLI courses (in the classroom, not online).

What follows are basically my running notes as I listened (and occasionally backed up to hear something again, so I guess it's just as well I missed the livestream). Some of this might sound a little pithy or trite summarized here; I encourage you to listen to the talk (44 minutes) before drawing a negative conclusion just based on my notes.

In English the book is called Exodus, but in Hebrew it's Sh'mot, Names. To leave something which enslaves you, you need to know who you are. Slavery is dehumanizing, taking away your name, reducing people to numbers. When someone tries to strip our identity, that is the foundation of enslaved reality - we have no voice, nobody is going to believe us.

Nobody escapes Mitzrayim (Egypt); we all are there at some point in our lives -- not having freedom of movement, expression, thought. Egypt is something we all go through. It's part of our journey. The same God who put us there takes us out.

It's not "what can I do to escape Egypt", but "what will I learn from the Egypt I'm in?". How do I discover who I am so I can be free?

10 lessons:

1 - Knowing your name is essential.

2 - What doesn't kill you makes you stronger -- we can allow what beats us down to paralyze us, or we can let it push us to grow. We're so constricted that we're forced to break out because there's nowhere else to go.

3 - Passion can overcome fear; if we believe strongly enough we won't even see the potential barriers. (Miriam confronting her parents in their separation -- uncomfortable, but she was right, she was passionate, she spoke up and got them back together and they had Moshe.)

4 - Learn to be flexible and switch roles. Miriam parenting her parents; Yochevet as nursemaid to her son; Miriam as negotiator w/Paro's daughter to save Moshe's life. Story of her friend pumping milk to save another child after hers died -- of all the things she could have done, who would have thought that would be her biggest impact?

5 - We are never stuck; we can reinvent ourselves when truly committed. The rabbis say Bat Paro (daughter of Paro) intended to convert to Judaism; Bat Paro became Bat Ya. Paro = peh ra, evil mouth. She comes from that and transforms her life to become metaphorical daughter of God (and raises Moshe who will redeem Yisrael).

6 - Nothing is out of reach if we want it desperately enough, but we'll never know until we try. Batya saw the child's life needed to be saved and she reached out even though he was too far away and miraculously succeeded. People lift cars off of victims. If you think about it, it won't happen. When we see something needs to be done, we believe limitations won't get in the way and miracles can happen. (Nachon ben Aminadav -- innovator, persistent believer.)

7 - True acts of kindness we do are never forgotten, even if we're not aware of their impact. Moshe got his name from Batya, not his mother -- it's the name that sticks, the name God uses. Act of kindness from Batya has lasting effect. We don't know the impact when we smile at a stranger, speak to someone, offer a kind word...

8 - Only when we see the possibility of what can be do we recognize how badly our situation needs to change. We had to hit rock bottom in Mitzrayim before we realized how difficult it was. Nowhere to go but up. Everything's been stripped away; what can we leave behind, where should we focus, where can we make an impact? Time to refocus and rethink. What matters?

9 - When presented w/opportunity to do the right thing, don't let insecurity stand in your way. If opportunity came your way, you're meant to step up. Be humble but don't let it prevent you from acting. Moshe's humility at bush: "why me?". Humility isn't thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less. If you can do something, doesn't matter if someone else could do it better -- you're here; do it.

10 - We can say we're not strong/good enough, but we can't say God isn't; we're never alone. Moshe - I'm slow of speech, and everything's going to depend on speech (negotiation) -- but God says "who makes a man's mouth? isn't it me? I will teach you what you should say".

If we're put in a situation, if we have the ability to influence, there's a reason. We have to be willing to switch roles, do what's needed, know our deeds are lasting and impactful, remember where abilities and opportunities come from.

"Do not tell God how big your problems are; tell your problems how big your God is" -- we might not be able to deal with our problems, but God can. We are never alone. "When I sit in darkness, God is my light."

comments

Pesach 2020

2020-04-12T18:11:06Z

Yisrael came to Egypt and the land flourished because of them. But a new Paro (pharaoh, king) arose who did not know them, and he enslaved them and made their lives hard. And not being content with that, he piled on misery, deliberately acting against them first by making their labors even harder and then by killing their children. When they protested, he prioritizing his own ego and divinity complex not only over justice but also over the well-being of his own people. At every opportunity to change toward the good, Paro hardened his heart and dug in more firmly on the path of evil.

This sounds familiar, on two different fronts.

On one front, the plague of Covid-19 has struck us (I am not asserting a source here) and, even as more people die in the US than anywhere else, even though we were repeatedly warned, our own Paro prioritizes his ego over the well-being of his people, ignoring pleas from governors who don't bow and scrape enough to him, stealing medical supplies from some of them to supply his friends. He prioritizes commerce over health, profit over protecting the vulnerable. The people cry out for rescue.

Now this is not the harsh reign of terror of the torah's Paro; while, sadly, many are stricken who could have been saved, we, unlike Yisrael, can take some measures to protect ourselves. Nothing is certain -- who knows whether that grocery delivery was safe? -- but we can hide at home and try to wait it out.

If we are able to work from home. If we have financial cushions. If we have homes. Never forget that not everyone does. I am fortunate in this regard; many are not. At my (tiny) seder this Pesach, I expressed gratitude for my household being saved (as far as we know), while noting that this year we do not have the national salvation of the Exodus. Many are still in danger.

And then there's the personal front. A Paro driven by ego, contempt for "lesser" people, and sometimes malice arose over me and mine, and did persecute some of us and seek to destroy -- not literally throwing people into the Nile, but metaphorically. There were many chances to correct that path, even saving face, but at each opportunity, the modern Paro hardened his heart, surrounded himself with complicit counselors, and dug in. At every turn, image was more important than teshuva, correcting misdeeds, and tzedakah, righteousness. Counselors who disagreed were driven out without even time for their bread (or health coverage) to finish.

I and many others escaped, and I am grateful for that even though we left both property and people behind. It is an incomplete exodus, as with Israel in Egypt -- rabbinic tradition says that many people feared the unknown and did not join the Exodus. Modern Paro's taskmasters continued to afflict some of those who remained, but also offered trinkets and promises to encourage everyone to stay. Paro's hope, it seems, is that if he gives the slaves straw again to make brick-making less onerous, the slaves will stay and be thankful. And Paro might be right in that.

A new Paro has arisen over the modern Egypt I fled, and has appointed a new vizier to speak publicly on behalf of Egypt. It is too soon to know whether the new Paro and vizier will correct past injustices or continue to sweep them under the royal carpet. Neither Paro nor vizier has sent messengers to all those who were driven out, and so for now Egypt remains Mitzrayim, the narrow place. I feel sorry for the many who remain and hope the new leaders will do teshuva, but Pesach encourages me to look forward and not backward, to a future of promise and not a past of narrow-minded oppression.

I am sad for the unnecessary victims of both Paros. Protecting myself is important and perhaps all I can do, but the Exodus is not complete so long as the oppression of those left behind continues. It was only at the sea of reeds that Yisrael was free from Paro. Sadly, the destruction at the sea of reeds was necessary because of Paro's hardened heart; it was not the desired outcome, and God rebuked the angels who sang triumphantly there. If Paro had ever done teshuva, widespread destruction could have been averted. I hope that our modern Paros will do teshuva and repair rather than enable ongoing damage.

comments

spring CSA, week 3

2019-04-25T00:46:05Z

4 parsnips (from three bases :-) )
6 Fuji apples
4 large-to-huge blue potatoes (nominal 2 pounds)
2 green meat radishes, one huge
bunch Swiss chard (half pound)
head lettuce
bag salanova (mixed salad greens)
bunch red pac choi

(The small share omitted the apples and potatoes, got watermelon radish instead of green meat radish, and got kale instead of chard.)

That's a lot of greens. I know pac choi and chard are both good for sauteing; I have a vague memory that chard works well in a greens-based soup too. Salads are obvious (and I've been making salad for lunch more often lately). Last night I roasted the last of last week's blue potatoes, sliced thin and sprinkled with fresh rosemary and sea salt, and then finished them under the broiler to get nice crunchy crisp bits. That definitely worked, so I'll be doing that again. (I also roasted some parsnips last night.) I might try shredding and pan-frying parsnips (hash-browns style); it seems like that would be nice. Some will also go into a vegetable soup soon (maybe with some greens?).

Halacha tangent: I knew last week that this week's share would not include anything that's problematic during Pesach (when there are restrictions on even owning certain foods), but I found myself wondering how it would have worked otherwise. It depends on when you legally become the owner of the food. In advance, when I paid for the share? When I physically acquire the share each week? So I asked on Mi Yodeya; let's see if I get good answers. (There are some useful leads in a couple comments, and a lot of comments from somebody who didn't like the way I asked the question.)

comments

always mount a scratch seder

2019-04-19T03:04:47Z

Another family in my congregation invited me for the first seder tomorrow night. It was to be their family, another family, one other individual, and me. This morning they sent email: the host is sick and contagious, and can anybody else host? I offered. The other family wrote back and said they had made alternate plans when they heard about the health situation (I gather that there was prior discussion with hopes that it would pass). The host clarified that they are all presumed contagious and so would be staying home. That left me and the other singleton.

So I sent her email and said hey, I'm game if you are. (Offers of food had been free-flowing, so I wasn't going to have to cook everything at the last minute.) Meanwhile, I checked back with my synagogue to see if anybody needed a place to go at the last minute and also checked with some people whose plans I knew to have been uncertain, but everybody was settled. While waiting for her reply I wondered what I would do if she bailed, and found myself wondering whether I could fulfill my obligation through a second-night seder that starts before sundown (as the one I'm going to will) or what it would be like to read the haggadah alone or whether it was too late to ask the Chabad rabbi for help.

But she was up for it, so fine, we both figured -- we can have a small seder, get to know each other better, and have a grand time. It'll be good.

A few hours later I got a call from another family from the minyan -- they'd heard through the grapevine that I needed a place and would be happy to have me. I said there was another person who would be stranded if I accepted and could she come too? Yes yes, of course. So I accepted for both of us, sent email to tell her what happened and make sure it was ok, and she's happy to accept.

So I went from "sure, I can pull a seder out of thin air; we have food, we have wine, we have haggadot, and we are mighty!" to everything working out. The food I would have taken to the original seder will be welcome at the new one, and plans for the second night are unaffected. Whee!

comments

seder

2017-04-16T20:26:26Z

As I have for a few years, I hosted a Pesach seder this year with the goal of lots of discussion. We had a great group of people this year and it was a big success.

We had eight people, several of whom brought other haggadot to share things from. People asked questions (for which we sometimes pulled reference books off the shelves) and we had lots of great conversation. We also sang lots, which makes me happy. We went for a bit over six hours (including the meal).

I heard some new-to-me melodies, which I haven't necessarily retained but I know whom to ask. Chad Gadya with sound effects -- I'm just sayin'. We sang most of Hallel and I taught a melody for part of the first psalm, which we normally read in English because we didn't have a melody. (So I wrote one, a few years ago. I have a melody for the whole psalm, but I didn't have transliteration available for this psalm and some people needed it, so I didn't want to impose.)

I chose the haggadah I did, despite some archaic language, because not only does it include transliterations of key phrases, but those transliterations are in Sefardi-style Hebrew instead of Ashkenazi. (Sefardi is what comes naturally to me and is used in my congregation.). But there's some stuff that's not transliterated that we sing as a group, so I made a supplementary page with those transliterations. But I need to update it with a couple things for next year, including Psalm 113 so we can sing it.

I made this charoset recipe and it was very successful. It more closely resembled mortar than anything I've ever had based on apples and walnuts, and it was tasty enough that there were almost no leftovers. (I almost halved the recipe because, hey, we were only going to be 8-10 people, but I'm glad I didn't.) I left out the walnuts and increased the almonds and pistachios accordingly, by the way. (I like almonds and pistachios more than I like walnuts.)

I had a couple people coming who don't eat meat (but do eat fish), so rather than making "fake" chicken soup that contains no actual chicken broth, I went looking for interesting alternatives. A search for ginger soup (which I know is a thing and, mmm, ginger) led me to this recipe for green soup with ginger. This took a while to make, and you should definitely use a bigger pot than you think you need so there's room for the greens before they cook down, but wow, that was good! (The recipe says sweet potatoes but shows yams in the photos. I wasn't sure which to use but the decision was made for me: the store didn't have any sweet potatoes when I went shopping. Yams work fine.)

During the first part of the seder I put out snacks (so hunger and spending time on the haggadah wouldn't be in conflict). I put out raw vegetables, dates, and almonds, and a guest brought an eggplant dip. We began the meal with hard-boiled eggs as is traditional. Besides the soup, we also had gefilte fish (brought by a guest), baked herbed chicken, roasted small potatoes, and roasted vegatables. A guest brought fruit salad for dessert, another brought candy, and we had macaroons.

I had to quickly wash the plates we used for the ritual items during the reading of the haggadah so we could use them for dessert; I need to figure out a better solution next year. (Possibly nice disposable plates for one or the other.) We didn't just use the dinner plates because we weren't sitting at the dining-room table the entire time; I learned from my friend Lee Gold the custom of starting in the living room where you have comfortable chairs/couches, so people don't feel rushed by butt-numbing furniture. We gathered around the coffee table, which required small plates. (Obviously this only works if you don't have so many people that you're using all available space for dinner tables. I have the luxury of enough room to use two seating areas, at our current size.)

comments