By H. Eric Schockman, Ph.D. , Special to JTNews
When I was a child, it was difficult to make sense of a holiday like Passover. I found its contrasts unsettling. Kids take their emotional cues from the adults around them, and come the seder, I couldn’t understand how I was supposed to feel. Was it a time for deep sadness or profound joy? Why did we feast like kings and queens when the story being told was one of hardship and struggle? And what good were strange items like charoset and horseradish root as a centerpiece on the holiday table? Nuance is lost on a 10-year-old boy; to me, these things were just lumps on a plate, and their relevance to my life was as hard to fathom as the notion that anyone would wander around for 40 years when they could just get in the car and drive.
As I got older and the grown-up world slowly revealed its mysteries, Passover’s dueling themes of suffering and redemption became significantly less abstract. That one occasion could spark many, and even conflicting emotions suddenly had the ring of truth. And what once appeared as colorless lumps on the seder plate were now symbols rich with meaning.
This year, as we stand, teetering, at the edge of a financial abyss, those symbols are even more potent than ever. First, the charoset: Our ancestors performed backbreaking work in the blistering sun, slaves to brick-and-mortar buildings that ruled their existence. Today we have our own crisis of bricks and mortar, and the resulting economic fallout spells a new kind of slavery for millions of foreclosed-upon families nationwide.
Next, the shank bone. In ancient times, the Paschal sacrifice allowed Jews to offer thanks for their everyday blessings. But with mounting job losses and a tanking stock market, today we are the lambs at the slaughter, sacrificing our comfortable lifestyles and mortgaging our children’s future.
When it comes to saltwater and maror, the parallel is not hard to find. Hebrew slaves in Egypt knew first-hand that life could be harsh and unforgiving; it’s a lesson so many of us are learning in all kinds of personal and painful ways. As our businesses slow down and our budgets tighten up, we understand what it means to shed bitter tears of sorrow, anger and fear. These tears also allow us to grieve for what we have lost, which brings us to the egg, in Judaism a traditional food of mourning. We can’t help but feel a sense of emptiness and longing for the world we knew; as Bob Dylan so aptly put it: “The times, they are a-changin.”
In the midst of all this gloom, we would be remiss not to heed the message of another seder symbol: The karpas, or green vegetable. Even during the darkest days of winter, we know that spring is just around the bend, bringing with it new growth, blossoming opportunity and fresh hope for better times ahead. The power of Passover is its ability to recognize what I could not as a young child: That joy and sorrow are merely two sides of one coin, and that where one must go, the other inevitably follows.
These are uncertain times. Hunger and poverty are on the rise, and may well get worse before they get better. But Passover reminds us that nothing is forever — the tide will eventually turn. Our challenge in the meantime is not to despair, and to find the wherewithal to keep moving forward. This Passover, as we relive the tragedy of Egyptian slavery, let us not forget the euphoria of Exodus.
H. Eric Schockman, Ph.D. is president of MAZON: A Jewish Response to Hunger.