Me’Avdut Le’Herut: Finding Freedom and Familiarity in a New Seder

I can say with certainty that Pesach is my favorite Jewish holiday. Growing up, Pesach was a 3-week vacation from school. A huge family Seder, woven with funny traditions, the holiday always bring joy and thoughts of home to me. And, here in Northern Virginia, to be a guest at someone else’s Seder made me feel both a stranger and at home at the same time. The added items to the Seder plate, the different tunes and songs, the funny ways of telling the story of Exodus, those were new to me. And, like any other time I experience something new, it takes a while to adjust, as it initially emphasizes the differences between here and there.

But at the same time, nothing feels more familiar than walking into a family’s house prepared for the Seder. The smell of food in the air, knowing the distance between you and that smell depends on the will of the Seder leaders, and they are determined. The familiarity of sitting together, scrolling through a shared history, remembering what we’ve been through. Taking the opportunity of a family meal on a nice spring evening to be grateful for what we have, that feels familiar. But having two Seders, one after the other? You’re crazy. The human body is not built to absorb that much food. That’s a step too far!

Pesach brings an opportunity for reflection, to look back at what we’ve done this year, and to stop for a deep breath. Last Pesach it was unimaginable to think about celebrating our freedom while we are at war, while there’s hostages still missing, and while Antisemitism is at its peak (I hope). But we did, and it was a mixture. A mixture of hopes and concerns, of gratitude and pain. Such are also Israel’s national days that are nearly upon us, the Yoms.

And just like last year, we should take a deep breath. We’re thankful for our sovereignty, but we know we’re at war. We’re grateful for our freedom, but not all of us are free. We’re proud of our history, but we know the price we paid. We’re appreciative of where we are, but we know we must keep moving.

Take a deep breath, eat some food, and continue walking. This desert journey is a lot longer than 40 years.

Chag Sameach!