Remembering to Leave the Door Open for Elijah

Last year the Spring holidays—Easter and Passover—sneaked in at the tail end of March rather than the more acceptable and weather cooperative (although this year all bets are off with the continuing saga of cold and snow in places not California) month of April.  For some of the more secularly challenged readers, and those who may have missed a few of their religious school classes, the two holidays are linked through a notable historical event.  According to Christian doctrine, right before Jesus was crucified on the cross he met with his disciples at a feast known as The Last Supper.  Most historians, Christian, Jewish and secular alike, acknowledge that since it occurred at the start of Passover (and Jesus had practiced Judaism), the meal was most likely a seder.

Matzos go well with Passover wine.

Consulting the Hebrew calendar, I discovered the first day of Passover coincided with what in secular America has become known as Tax Day.  Jewish accountants from sea to shining sea wanted to know what they had done to deserve such a fate. Being a flexible Reform Jew, I chose to skip the first night in favor of the second.  Jewish days, which are plotted on a lunar calendar, start at sunset of the previous day (which makes perfect sense if you are following a calendar dependent on the moon that rises when the sun sets).  Traditional inflexible Orthodox Jews have seders on the first and second night of Passover.  Reform Jews usually have their seders on the first night with an option on the second night.  I knew my brother, a CPA with his own practice for more than 30 years, was not going to quit work until too late the night prior (Monday) to the final day of filing.   He did manage to complete his 300 filings and more than another 150 extensions, so he could join us at a reasonable hour—around 7:00 (Tuesday)— for the four questions and the three thousand year old ritual of reciting the story of Moses and our people breaking free from slavery, the exodus from Egypt after a bunch of plagues and the splitting of the Red Sea.

Gefilte fish with horseradish on top.

In this ancient story, handed down from generation to generation, and from rabbi to rabbi, each one more intelligent than the last adds an additional layer of insight into the fabric of the tale and what it means.  The most profound symbol of Passover is the shank bone that sits on the seder plate and represents the Paschal lamb that was sacrificed and whose blood stained the doors of the Jewish homes, so the angel of death would pass over (thus, the name) these homes while killing the first born son of every other home in Egypt—the most severe of the plagues. However, the most familiar of the holiday symbols is matzoh.  The unleavened bread, which is often confused with crackers, symbolizes the kind of bread the Jews were forced to eat in the desert after they fled Egypt without allowing time for the bread to rise.  To honor this wonderful food I am once again posting the brilliant 20 Things to Do with Matzoh by Michelle Citrin and William Levin.

There are also two substances: horseradish with its sinus clearing strength that symbolizes the tears shed by the slaves and charoseth, a mixture of apple, nuts and wine that is supposed to resemble the mortar placed between the bricks as they built the pyramids for the pharaohs. Then, there’s gefilte fish.  It’s not really a symbol, just a tradition built on grinding the fish at the bottom of the river, blending it with other fish and putting it in a jar. With enough horseradish, it tastes fantastic.

We, also leave the door open a crack so Elijah, the prophet, can join us.

Of course, Sunday there will be eggs, chocolate bunnies and jellybeans for Easter.