Why is this Night Different? Seder 5767

Our Seder at Sunset 14-15 Nisan 5767

April 2, 2007

Some of our guests socialize in the living room before the Seder

Once all the preparations are done, the fun part of Pesach begins. Bruce and I have had a Seder every year of our married life. Preparing Seder is important, but it is the guests that make the Seder work. Every year, I say that I am going to keep the number down to a managable 12 - 14 people, but that never happens. Someone always asks to bring guests of their own. And it always works out wonderfully when they do!


Of course, while some of the guests socialize, others wander into the kitchen to help me finish setting up. On Seder night, I am always up to my elbows in last minute tasks, but somehow, it all gets done.

Here is our Seder plate on the table. It has all of the usual symbols plus an orange. Later when we tell the meaning of the shankbone (it symbolizes the lamb sacrificed of old so our ancestors could mark the doorposts of their dwellings so that the angel of death could pass over them), and the matzah (the bread baked in haste when they fled Egypt), and the maror (bitter herbs--to symbolize the bitterness of slavery), we also tell the modern midrash of the orange on the Seder plate.

The Orange on the Seder Plate: A Modern Midrash

by N.

Sometime after the war, a famous rabbi was asked if women would ever read Torah. He said: "A woman belongs on the Bimah (raised platform where Torah is read) as much as an orange belongs on the Seder plate." The rabbi's wife heard him, but she didn't say anything. Months went by. When Pesach came, the rabbi's wife worked as hard as Jewish mothers do, removing chametz and preparing for the Seder. The rabbi cleaned his study. When he came out to take his place at the Seder table, there was an orange on the Seder plate! We are not free until all are treated equally as complete human beings, regardless of gender.

Elisheva's commentary on the midrash: A midrash is a story that amplifies the meaning of some aspect of Torah, or of Jewish law. This midrash is in the grand tradition. There have been many times where our rabbis have made pronouncements or tried to stop folk customs, but have been unsuccessful. They did not approve of some of the customs that developed around Purim, for example, and also Hannukah. But the people Israel maintained the customs and elaborated on them, and the rabbis had to accept that. The same was true in the middle ages, when Maimonides tried to impose a creed--Adon Olam. But many Jews, including the famous Nachmanides, rejected having a creed. So we sing Adon Olam, but it is not a creed that we all agree upon. In Judaism there is no higher authority that stands between a Jew and G-d. There is no orthodoxy in the stict sense of "right dictum" but rather an orthopraxy, that is "right practice." And there are differences of opinion about what is indeed "right practice." Remember--two Jews, three opinions! So we place an orange on our Seder plate to demonstrate that women do belong on the Bimah, and are on the Bimah in the majority of Jewish congregations throughout the world.

The purpose of the Seder meal is discussed in Torah. We are commanded: "You shall tell your child on that day..." So our rabbis set up a feast modeled on a Greek feast, but with many important differences. The purpose of all of the symbols and actions of the feast is to pique the curiousity of the children so that we can tell the story. Hence the "Four Questions" asked by a child or children begins the mighty Maggid, the Telling.

"How different is this night from all other nights! On all other nights, we eat leavened bread or matzah, why on this night, only matzah? On all other nights, we eat all kinds of vegetables, why on this night, only maror (bitter herbs)? On all other nights, we do not even dip once, why on this night do we dip twice? On all other nights, we eat sitting upright or reclining, why on this night, only reclining?" These questions call attention to the symbols and actions of the Seder and we answer by telling the story:

"We were slaves to pharoah in Mitzrayim (the narrow places--Egypt), but Adonai our G-d brought us forth with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm. And if the Holy One, praised be G-d, had not taken our ancestors out of Mitzrayim, then we, and our children, and our children's children, would still be slaves to Pharoah in Mitzrayim. Now, even if all of us were sages, even if all of us were elders, even if all of us were learned in Torah, it would still be our duty to tell the story of the Exodus from Mitzrayim. Moreover, whoever elaborates upon the story of our Exodus is worthy of praise."

Because everyone who elaborates on the story merits praise, at our Seder, during the Telling (Maggid), everyone who wants to read gets a turn reading some of the story. The story is told in four different ways in order that everyone will learn something new from it.






Since the Maggid is so long, some people think that the four questions are: "When do we eat? When do we eat? When do we eat? When do we eat?"


We eventually do come to the time for eating. But first--as N. says, there's always a 'but first!--there is the ritual of the washing of hands. This is not a matter of cleanliness--it is assumed that one comes to the table with clean hands--it is a matter of raising our hands to a higher level because Judaism is a religion of the home, and in our homes, the dining table is called a mikdash katan, a little altar. Our service to G-d takes place at the table, starting with the ritual eating of bread, so we do a ritual handwashing before eating bread, or in this case, matzah. The custom is that one does not speak between washing and eating as they are one act, so when there is a large crowd, the first person to wash must be quiet the longest! This is hard on Jews--so there is always a mad rush to be last! However, we always manage to find someone to go first--and I am always last, since I help with the blessing.

At last! Food. Food is very important in every Jewish holiday, but at Pesach, it takes on greater meaning. The dinner is usually elaborate and served in courses and must be prepared according to the strict kashrut standards of Passover.

I am always the last to sit down--which means sometimes my most special dishes are already gone. I have learned to set back a little of my favorite kugels and such so that I do get a "bissele." My husband watches this in amazement (I guess men don't plan like this) and usually says, "My dear wife has a Yiddishe kop." (Translation: I married a really smart woman). Personally, I think my midwestern upbringing has something to do with it. Midwestern women are very practical.

But, wait, the mean is NOT the end! After the meal come some of my favorite parts of the Seder. During the Maggid, the children steal the afikomen, the broken middle matzah that symbolizes the passover lamb that was once sacrified in the temple. We cannot finish the meal until we can share the afikomen, so, in the interest of preserving what's left of our waistlines (Passover cooking is not on the FDA's food pyramid), we pay a prize to get the hidden afikomen back.

Then we say the blessing after meals, and then, we open the door for Eliyahu (Elijah), herald of "the great and awesome day of Adonai, when the hearts of the parents will be turned toward the children, and the hearts of the children toward the parents." The children are sent to open the door, and someone usually makes sure the amount of wine in Elijah's cup is lessened when they return. This year MLC had the honor, but she did not hear the word "lessen," so she chugged the whole cup! It was Manischewitz syrup...er, wine. Poor thing missed her Quantitative Analysis lecture yesterday.
It is our custom to sing Elijah's song while holding hands--and after three cups of wine, we all sway a little. It is a Jewish 'Kum ba-ya" moment.

But my favorite part of the Seder is the singing of Chad Gadya (Only One Kid).
The commentary on the song in our Haggadah is beautifully written, and it is always MLC that reads it. Part of it says: "To find in the Haggadah--so full already of miracles and marvels-- a peaceful place on the last page...And this very Haggadah whispers, 'Join us, you're welcome here...you belong among my pages full of smoke and blood, among the great and ancient tales I tell.' So I know that the sea was not split in vain, deserts not crossed in vain--If at the end of the story stand Daddy and the kid, knowing their turn will come." (By Robert Alteman).

And then we sing the song, each verse longer than the last, so that it is hard to sing the last verse all in one breath! (It is like the English "House that Jack Built).

We end the Seder saying: Next Year in "Jerusalem!"
And we sing Adir Hu (G-d of Might).

The guests depart with kisses and lots of food. The extra chairs are folded away.

Then there are the dishes...

An Adventure in the Rituals of Making a Seder

Yesterday, we had an unusual adventure while we were preparing for the first Passover Seder, which was observed last night.

One of the rituals for preparing for the Seder is Biur Chametz--the ritual of total destruction of the levening that was found in the Bedikat Chametz ritual that happened on Sunday evening.

The ritual involves burning the Chametz (levening) while reciting a legal formula that goes as follows:

"All chametz in my possession, whether I have seen it or not, whether I have removed it or not, is hereby nullified and ownerless as the dust of the wind."

The formula is recited in Aramaic and in the language of the place--here English. I am reciting the formula as I sit next to the firepit N. dug. I need the book to remember the Aramaic!





N. has become my right-hand man for conducting this ritual of Pesach preparation. He has learned how to lay a small fire and get it started and keep it going in Boy Scouts. We do not need lighter fluid anymore!
N. is also very conscientious about putting a fire completely out safely. More on this later--it is part of the unusual thing that happened yesterday.

Here is N., getting ready to put the first of the ten pieces of chametz to the fire. This year we had crackers left--we had eaten all the bread alreay. I wrapped each cracker into a small sandwich bag in order to minimize crumbs when I hide the chametz for the search.
You can see the fire in a small hole--to keep it below the wind--and ringed with stones, on cleared ground near the asphalt driveway--which was downwind from the fire yesterday.




So, I recited the legal formula declaring that we were at the end of the process of removing chametz from our lives for the next eight days.

N. placed the chametz on the wooden spoon we had used to collect it during the search.
In the process of burning the chametz, the spoon is also burned, as is the feather used to sweep it onto the spoon, and anything else that came in contact with it.

I interpreted this liberally yesterday. There was a small wind, and I did not want to burn the paper bag, which risked blowing sparks across the driveway. I never burn the plastic, either, as it produces potentially toxic fumes. The Torah says "you shall live by them (the laws)," which the Rabbis of the Talmud interpreted to mean "you shall live by them, not die by them." I did not want to begin Pesach by burning down the entire forest--only the Chametz. I did not want to annoy the neighbors with toxic fumes, either. So we completed the ritual of Biur Chametz safely and without incident.

N. smothered the fire with dirt, buried it completely, making sure that no smoldering sticks remained even partially unburied, and covered the area with stones.




I went back into the house, got the matzah ball dough out of the refrigerator, and commenced making matzah balls.

The ritual of making kneidlach, as matzah balls are called in Yiddish, is not commanded anywhere, but it is an important ritual in the Ashkenazi (Yiddish-speaking) Jewish kitchen. My recipe includes only well-beaten eggs, matzah meal and salt. I do not use chicken fat or any modern substitute. This makes them very light, if the eggs are well whipped, and they rise up in the soup quickly and expand readily in the boiling liquid. Here they are boiling and steaming the kitchen with a delicious smell.

As I was forming the matzah balls, the dogs began barking and I thought I heard a vehicle on our street. Since the dogs stopped readily, I continued with what I was doing. It is hard to be interrupted when shaping matzah balls, because the dough is very sticky on the hands. I coat my hands with a little olive oil (kosher for Pesach, of course), so cleaning them would be a pain. But then the dogs started barking again. This time it was their urgent, "somebody is in our yard" bark. So I reluctantly washed my hands, and carrying the towel as I dried them, went to the front of the house to determine what the ruckus was about.

A Bernalillo County fire department truck was parked on the road above our driveway, and two firemen were walking along the edge of the driveway!
After stilling my rapidly beating heart, I went out to see what was going on. As I opened the door, I heard one fireman say to the other: "Are you sure this is the right address? I don't see anything at all!"

Naturally, I greeted them and asked them what was up. It turns out that a neighbor had seen the smoke from the burning chametz--a little fire burning bread makes a lot of white smoke--and had called the fire department, thinking our house was burning down. I explained that it was the beginning of Passover and that we had burned ten crackers near the driveway. I then asked if there were fire-restrictions that I had not heard about.
The fireman said, no restrictions, but they had gotten a call and came to check it out.
I explained that the fire was small, placed in a protective area and below wind level.
The fireman said it was alright--certainly religious rituals are allowed in Bernalillo County as long as safe practices are observed. Then he said: "We weren't even sure we had come to the right place, there is no evidence that you burned anything at all."
I explained that my 13-year old son is a Boy Scout and has all the fire safety training down and that he is always extremely careful.
They said they could see that he is skilled, since there was absolutely no evidence of any fire, not even a charred stick. One of them then said: "Have a good holiday," and they said good-bye and left.

I went back to my kneidlach, contemplating the incident. Maybe we should have used the grill? But that is well above wind-level. It appears we have some nervous neighbors. Understandable, and probably a good thing, overall.

What is funny, though, it that we burned our chametz every year in the city. No one every expressed any concern at all. Only out here, where the houses are further away, and much more private, have we ever had a problem with it.

I suppose I could put out a general e-mail to the HOA list, explaining the ritual.
Or maybe just let it go until next year.

Hmmm.

Carnival of Homeschooling Spring Fever

The Carnival of Homeschooling is up for this week. Kris has made the theme "Spring" and there are many good reads there!

Head on over to Kris's Eclectic Homeschool and catch Spring Fever.

Making Pesach and the Search for Levening

Today we turned the kitchen over for Pesach. This means removing all the dishes that will not or cannot be make kosher for Passover, kashering those that will be used during the holiday and then bringing in the Pesadikh dishes and the food.

In the process, there is much cleaning. The cabinets have to be cleaned out, the counters cleaned and covered, and there is a massive moving of dishes.

Everybody helps!
This is MLC, my 21 year old daughter, showing off her muscles as she removes a stoneware salad bowl. Stoneware takes on the substance of the food placed in it, being porous and cannot be made kosher for Passover.

MLC is a runner and is training for "Run for the Zoo!" She has been getting very good times and is proud of her progress.



Another thing that has to be done is the kashering of pots, pans and utensils for use during Pesach. Different items have different rules. May utensils are immersed in boiling water. First, you boil a full pot of water. Then you immerse a stone to make the water overflow and kasher the outsie of the pot. Making Pesach involves a lot of towels! Once the pot is kosher, you can immerse your utensils. (I keep a set of Pesadikh tongs which I use to fish them out again).

Here I am kashering some of the items I will need for Pesach.

I also kasher my pots and pans. That involves scrubbing off accumulated carbon and then using the heat of the pan or pot to make it kosher for Passover. I have a dream that someday I will have a separate 'Pesadikh' set of cookware. But I really like my cookware and to have another set would be very expensive. I do have Pesadikh china for the Seder and also Pesadikh plates for the rest of the holiday. I do NOT kasher glassware. Usually, the klutzes of the family break enough glassware that it is worth getting a new set of drinking glasses every year in time for Pesach.

I do have special stemware for Pesach, however. This I got from my mother-in-law, may she rest in peace. I never knew her, but Bruce was given her crystal and I use it only for Pesach.

Here is N., removing my "Longest Tram in the World" souvenir beer stein. Beer, being fermented grain, is Chametz (levened stuff). During Pesach, we are commanded to remove the Chametz (foods made from wheat, oats, spelt, and rye) so the beer stein is definitely NOT Pesadikh.

Like I said, everybody helps. Bruce even gets out the Passover cartons that hold the dishes and some of the ritual objects. But then he disappears into his office. His job is to the get the taxes done before Pesach so that he can enjoy the Seder.

When the sun went down tonight, we conducted a ritual called "Bedikat Chametz" which is the search for levening.

I hid 10 pieces of bread around the house while N. took the dogs out. Then N. took a candle and a feather and a wooden spoon and searched out the Chametz. Yes, I hid some behind the plant! We said a blessing for fulfilling the commandment of removing the chametz. Then we recited a legal formula that says:

"All Chametz in my possession, which I have not seen or removed, or of which I am unaware, is hereby nullified and ownerless as the dust of the earth."

In this way, we acknowledge our honest effort at removing chametz from our lives--those things which enslave us or remove us from our true selves--but we also recognize that the job can never be completely done.

The kitchen is now turned over. I have started my chicken soup and the brisket. The turkey is slow roasting. Tomorrow I will make the side dishes and prepare for the Seder. I am actually ready! I have a lot of cooking to do tomorrow, but I know it will all get done!

Now the fun part of Pesach begins!

Carnival of Homeschooling with Darwin in the Galapagos

Oops!

I almost forgot.

Alesandra has the Carnival of Homeschooling #65.
It is dedicated to Charles Darwin.

I do not have an article this week--too busy! Look below to see my post.
Then get comfortable and go on over to Alesandra's.
But I plan to settle down to some reading later tonight.

Pondering and the Art of Making Pesach

Yesterday I went into N.'s room because all was quiet. Usually in the morning, N. is singing and playing with his dog. Yesterday he was sitting on his bed, head in hands, staring at the rug.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Pondering."

I looked at the quiet of his body and the space. I ruffled his hair through my fingers. "Pondering is good," I said. And I left him to his thoughts.


I have been very busy lately. I have been up late each night working on the rough draft of a hypothesis paper about the neurology of visual perceptual differences in Autism Spectrum Disorders (ASD). I have been obsessing--yes--obsessing--about Pesach. (Five days to prepare! Can I get it done?!). We have had some social obligations that couldn't be skipped. I have had a cold.
I have been longing to be free of all other obligations so that I could just finish the cleaning for Pesach.


Yes, you heard right. I have been longing for uninterrupted Pesach cleaning. And I am NOT meshuganeh*! Well, maybe a little.

I worry about all the work that Pesach entails every year starting after Channukah. This year, N.'s Bar Mitzvah made me late in my worrying. I worry until I actually start cleaning. Usually, I get everything cleaned during spring break. This year, I got some done during UNM spring break and some done last week. Last Thursday, the carpet cleaners came, and I got the pantries organized. (You should have seen this one before). But I still have kitchen work to do. So my worrying was compacted early and spread out late.

So, you probably wonder why I long to do the work uninterrupted? It is because I stop worrying about getting it done the more I settle into the work.

I put on Jewish soul music--you don't want to know! Maybe you do? My favorite is a CD by Klingon Klezmer called Honey, would you be meshuga tonite?

Anyway, I put on my Jewish soul music and I begin wherever I planned to begin. I gather my supplies. Everybody leaves me alone! They clear out like magic and I am alone with Klingon Klezmer and my thoughts. It is wonderful! There is something in my balabeyta** soul that is satisfied by bringing order out of chaos. It is my little share of the creative power of the Eternal.

And as I clean, I get to ponder. I ponder little questions: "What was I thinking when I decided to move this from one house to another?" "How did that get in here?"
And I ponder big questions: "Isn't it funny that work so hard to rid ourselves of chametz***, which is ubiquitous as the dust of the earth?" "What am I learning this year as I do the job that can't possibly be finished completely?" And my thoughts flow through my head like a gentle, spring rain.

And the day goes by and I feel very satisfied at the end of it. I can see what I have physically accomplished. But what has happened in my soul, although invisible, is even greater.

By the time I have gotten most of the heavy cleaning done and

I have started to get the Pesadik food on the shelf, I have pondered my way from slavery to a sense of freedom within the everyday routine of my life. I have pondered about what has enslaved me this year and how I will break those chains of petty obsessions and comfortable ruts.

As the moon of Nisan waxes from a sliver to the full moon of z'man cheruteynu, the season of our freedom, I have pondered anew the wonder of the freedom we are given and the joy of serving the Eternal, Source of Life and Freedom, who delights in the joy of our creativity and renewal unto life. The One who wants that we should learn to become ourselves.

There is an art to making Pesach. And I feel a little sorry for my husband because he does not have the physical touchstone of the meditative act of removing the chametz to set him pondering.


Do you ponder?

Vocabulary:

* Meshuganeh, meshuga (Yiddish) --Crazy, nuts, in the colloquial sense

**Balabeyta (Hebrew and Yiddish)--in charge of the house

***Chametz (Hebrew)--levened goods, levening

Weird Weather

I know that I write entirely too much about the weather, but.....


Yesterday, we woke up to steady rain. Rain for more than a half-an-hour is pretty unsusual in New Mexico, especially since we are supposed to be having a dry spring. But the rain stopped, the sun came out although it was partly cloudy and windy, so we figured we were done.


But at about 1:30 yesterday a thunderstorm came up from the south and with it a tremendous hail-storm. You can see the pea-sized hail falling on my truck. The white streaks in the picture are the hail stones falling. It was all hail--no rain.

The hail lasted for half-an-hour. Still no rain! Weird.

It covered the ground like snow and was at one time nearly an inch deep.

I took a close-up of it on the dooryard path toward the driveway. Those brave little weeds survived without even getting bent, such hardy creatures are they!











Then, at two o'clock, just when I was despairing of going out in it to go to class, it stopped. The sun came out. The ground was covered with hail-slush.

Bruce very kindly scraped the truck for me. Sometimes husbands are the greatest!

I was only a little late to class.










Last night it was raining a little, but the temperature was above freezing and it stopped in the night.


This morning, we were laying in bed and watching the pink-orange sunrise creep across the sky through the bedroom clerestory.

Then Bruce said: Look out the other window! It's snowing.
It was. Clouds in the west were letting out snow, even as the sun was shining.

Is there such a thing as a snow-bow?

I got the camera, but the clouds had pretty much covered the sky by the time I took my first picture.
Here it is--Spring Snow on Aspen.


Here is the snow falling on the woods to the south, and over our precipitation guage.

I fancy that the light is different even though it is snowing like winter--it looks like spring here.

The snow was soft and wet and melted quickly. By the time we took the dogs out for their morning walk, it had disappeared from the ground, although it was still resting on the trees in the forest on our mountain.

Here are the departing snowclouds covering South Mountain, taken as we walked the dogs up our ridge.

The snow is now completely gone as if it had never been. It is 50 degrees outside and the sun is peaking through the rain-clouds.

Weird Weather! It is supposed to be warmer tomorrow, although the storms asre still coming in bands from California.

Weird! But we'll take any and all precipitation.