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By
Michael Kagan
(mikagan@netvision.net.il)
- From the beginning of the month of Nisan (the First Month) there is
the opportunity to say a blessing upon seeing blossoming fruit trees
(Brichat Ilanot). Why now and not two months earlier around Tu BeShvat
when the almond trees are flowering? Why wait? Why specifically fruit
trees? Because this is the month when we pass on our story to the next
generation; when the tree gives its energy to its fruit.
- The month between Purim and Pesach can be juxtaposed to the month
before Rosh Hashannah six months away. That month of Elul is
accompanied by an intense period of introspection and soul searching
leading to a crying out for forgiveness. Now, before Pesach, there's no
time for such luxuries of the free for we are still deep in Egypt. The
relevant question is not: "How well have I been living my life?" but
rather, "Do I want to live? Am I ready to be brought out of Egypt - the
place of the living dead?" The world has to be engaged on the physical
level. There's work to be done, Hametz to be removed, kitchen's to be
koshered. This is especially emphasized by the fact that from the
first of Nisan confessional prayers are no longer said during the
morning and afternoon prayer services. This is not the time to be asking
for forgiveness. "Hurry up! It's time to leave!"
- Pesach must occur in the spring season (Exodus 12:1) because as nature
begins to penetrate out of the darkness of the soil towards the sun so
too do we move out of the darkness of our confinement towards the Light
of God. Thus the rhythms of natural world and the rhythms of the
spiritual world coincide.
- The Haggadah stipulates that I am to experience the exodus from Egypt
as if I myself were in slavery in Egypt, as if I myself were redeemed
from Egypt. How can I experience something that never occurred to me
directly? I can't experience somebody else's experience? I've never
been to Egypt. I never went through the Holocaust. While I can hear my
father's stories I cannot experience his pain, his fear, his horror, his
helplessness, his loss, his courage, his relief. I can celebrate the
fact that he survived. I can celebrate the fact that God delivered THEM
because if not for that I would not be here today. But what about me?
While not negating the historical dimensions to experience my Egypt and
my redemption I must turn inside.
- MiTZRaim (Egypt) literally means 'bound (MeTZeR), distressed (MeTZaR),
confined, narrow (TZaR) . On a physical level, this is the place inside
us around the chest area that feels constricted, tight, where all our
fears, worries, and doubts are stored preventing us from fully breathing
in life.
- Buddhism teaches that attachments are the cause of suffering.
Attachments in Judaism are synonymous to being enslaved in the House of
Bondage. Mitzraim represents everything that enslaves us or that we
enslave, everything that we are attached to in the physical, emotional
and psychological planes of our lives. From Purim we learnt, "Gods of
your masks do not make," that is not a commandment that forbids our
masks but rather a commandment not to make gods out of them. Similarly
for money - it is not 'money that is the root of all evil' it is the
'love of money that is the root of all evil.' Money is neutral; it is
merely an intermediary in the cycle of bartering. But becoming attached
to money, loving money, turning money into a god, this is enslavement
and bondage.
- What is true freedom? Here there is an apparent paradox: to be truly
free is to let go of being a slave of Pharaoh, the god of Egypt, and
choosing instead to become a servant of God, thereby shifting the axis
of devotion from the horizontal to the vertical. But isn't this just
another form of slavery? Freedom is to be totally free to choose to
live fully the life that God has destined for us. And what prevents
this? The fear that arises from the mind (ego) that without holding on
to something we are a nothing. So we become enslaved by the illusion
that by holding on to something in the temporal plane of existence we
will find an anchor in the sea of chaos, and this anchor creates the
illusion of security and this security creates the illusion of
freedom. "The closer to living ones destiny the freer one is." (Buber:
I and Thou). Thus it says of Moses that he was the meekest of men for
he totally let go of the needs of his ego and aligned his life fully
with the will of God.
- Hametz: what is it? It is leavened bread produced by the fermentation
of wet flour by yeast enzymes. This reaction releases carbon dioxide
gas that causes the dough to swell.. Nomadic tribes, like the Beduins,
when not travelling, leave the dough buried in the ground until it has
fully fermented and baked. If yeast is not added then the process can
take up to three days to complete. In the oven the process is
temporarily speeded up until all the enzymes are destroyed and then the
dough is baked. This is bread - soft, delicious bread. It consists of
over 90% empty space produced by a gas that does not sustain human life
(except if you're a vegetable). It's great volume is an illusion of its
true essence. Hametz is symbolic of our inflated, swollen egos -
mostly hot air.
- Matzah: what is it? It is unleavened bread produced by mixing flour
and water, but fermentation is prevented by immediately baking the
dough. It's quick food, easy to prepare. The Beduins prepare large
amounts before travelling because it folds easily, takes up very little
room, and lasts for a long time. Matzah is what it appears to be - its
essence. It is uninflated. It may not be as soft and as tasty as
Hametz but it doesn't need those facades to be what it is. It
represents being. It represents being just you, just who you are with
your ego but an uninflated ego. For after all the ego is not bad as it
is a necessary part of the interface between the physical world and the
spiritual world.
- In Israel, the moment the seventh day of Pesach ends queues begin to
gather outside the bakeries. Bread! We must have bread! Can you
imagine if the day after Pesach no bread would be available at the
supermarket, only Matzah! There would be bread riots. I've even
witnessed fist fights over the first loaves. If this is true after only
seven days of a strict Matzah diet what was it like after 270 years?
- What is the reason that we eat Matzah during Pesach? The immediate
answer that is usually given is because the dough did not have time to
rise, "And the Egypt was urgent upon the people, hastening to send them
out of the land; for they said we are dead men. And the people took
their dough before it leavened; their kneading troughs being bound up in
their outer garments upon their shoulder." (Ex. 12:33-34). And again,
"And the children of Israel journeyed from Rameses to Succot … And they
baked unleavened cakes of the dough which they brought forth out of
Egypt, for it was not leavened; because they were driven out of Egypt,
and could not tarry, neither had they made for themselves any
provisions." (Ex. 12:37-39). However we read that two weeks before the
Exodus God tells Moses to prepare the people for a special meal that
will take place on the night of the fourteenth of the month. A one year
old lamb or goat was to be drawn from the flocks four days earlier. On
the evening of the fourteenth it was to be slaughtered, its blood
sprinkled on the door frame of the houses, "And they shall eat the flesh
in that night, roasted with fire, and Matzot with bitter herbs shall
they eat." (Ex. 12:8). Furthermore, "And this day shall be for you a
memorial; and you shall celebrate it as a festival to God throughout
your generations; an ordinance for ever you will celebrate it. Seven
days shall you eat unleavened bread (Matzot); even from the first day
you shall have put away leaven out of your houses …" (Ex. 12:14-15). In
other words the instruction to eat Matzah and the institutionalization
of the Matzah festival was proclaimed before the people had even left
Egypt! It had nothing to do with what came after, whether the dough had
time to rise or not. Was that just a coincidence then? The Haggadah
gives two explanations for Matzah, one at the beginning of the Seder and
the other just before the Hallel. In the former it says, "This is the
bread of poverty that was eaten by our ancestors in Egypt." In the
latter it states, "Because the dough of our ancestors did not have time
to ferment by the time they were redeemed by the King of kings, the Holy
One blessed be He," And it continues by quoting Ex. 12:39 as above. So
how can these two views be reconciled? Herein lies the secret of
Matzah. God instructs Moses to tell the people to prepare themselves
for a festive meal of liberation on the night of the fourteenth. A lamb
or goat is to be drawn from the flock on the tenth. That leaves four
days to prepare. Prepare what? Well if after seven days of Pesach
people can't wait to stuff their mouths with leavened bread then what
after 270 years of slavery in which they did not have the luxury of
time nor the strength to knead the dough and wait. Matzah is the bread
of slaves whose egos are forced into contraction if while the desire
remains. So what would have been more suitable to represent true
freedom than to eat the liberation meal with proper bread, prepared over
the four day period of waiting. But God's instructions are clear: the
lamb is to be eaten with unleavened bread and bitter herbs. Why?
Because this meal is to be a memorial to the years of slavery, the
bitterness of exile, the loss of self-respect, freedom and choice. And
then faster than anyone expected the moment of liberation arrives and
children of Israel leave Egypt. And what are they carrying on their
shoulders? Their kneading troughs. And what is in the kneading
troughs? The dough that they were in the middle of making but they were
interrupted and so the dough did not have time to rise. Which means
that even during those frantic moments of packing and loading the
donkeys they were still intent on trying to make leavened bread as a
symbol of being free! They even went so far as to carry it on their
shoulders. Wasn't there anything else more important that they needed
to carry - maybe their own children? But when they arrived at Succot
they reached up their hands to remove the fermented dough and behold it
had collapsed, and what they were left with was the same plain, old
Matzah again. How disappointing! But this is one of the uncounted
miracles of that period, for leavened bread is just an illusion of
freedom. It is the ego wishing to expand and fulfill its desires. It
does not and cannot symbolize the true freedom that God brought us out
of Egypt for. So Matzah is both the bread of slavery and poverty, and
of the ultimate freedom available to us as servants of God.
- Exercise: From the beginning of Nisan start writing a list of what are
you a slave to on the physical, emotional, psychological and spiritual
planes of your life? Food, sex, money, car, house, family, wife,
husband, work, alcohol, looking good, clothes etc. Fear of loss, fear
of success, fear of embarrassment, fear of being small, etc.
Expectations of parents, teachers, leaders, advertisers, society, etc.
Suffering, being happy, being critical, being serious, worrying, etc.
Self-improvement, workshops, books, finding meaning, self-discipline,
being obedient, etc. Write; be honest with yourself for you know when
you are lying. We could all easily fill several pages with our
slaveries and that which we enslave. On the night of the fourteenth,
when the search for Hametz takes place, shred the list into little
pieces, and scatter them on the floor. If you find it difficult to tear
up such a well thought out list that has taken you so much time and
effort to compose, then write that down as another slavery and tear up
the list. Search for all the torn pieces and collect them in an
envelope. In the morning burn it with the Kavannah that you are burning
that which prevents you from being free, the gods of your ego-mind.
- The search for Hametz around the house takes place in the dark under
the scrutinizing light of a single candle. Take time to look that well
inside for parts of you that have fermented and gone sour. But be
gentle: search with a candle but clean with a feather. It is so easy to
hurt ourselves more, to be our own taskmasters. Flood yourself with the
light of awareness but let the accusing mind be still.
- In the morning the Hametz is burnt. There is a tradition of using the
lulav kept from Succot, half a year earlier, to light the fire. What a
beautiful example of Jewish recycling! The palm branch that was so
tall, straight and proud is now withered and frayed. Its backbone has
collapsed. It's time for change. Its time for a resurrection. Throw
it into the flames. It's time to come out of Egypt. It's time to start
another cycle in the spiral of life.
- The Haggadah is a beautifully constructed book that has the power and
magic to take us on an experiential journey down into our inner Mitzraim
and then out into freedom. It accomplishes this through various levels
of sacred ritual: eating, drinking, story telling, meditating, learning,
questioning, reciting, chanting, singing, rejoicing, praying, playing.
It is not just an intellectual exercise. The Seder night is built
around the dialectic of slavery and freedom. In every section these
themes play themselves out. In the first half the emphasis is more on
the slavery whereas in the second part it is on the freedom. And where
is the center?
- To fully appreciate the Haggadah it is necessary to bring your full
awareness to everything that is done and said. Learn to think in
metaphors. Do not let explanations such as, "So that the children will
ask…" satisfy you. Go deeper. This is your story.
- The Seder Plate has five elements on it: a roasted egg, a burnt piece
of boned meat (Z'roa), bitter herbs (Maror), sweet mixture (Haroset),
and green vegetable (Karpas). What can these symbolize? The Haroset -
the sweet people; the Maror - the bitter ones; Karpas - the ones full of
life; the burnt meat - our ancestors; and the roasted egg - those yet to
be born.
- The wine is drunk to help lower your resistance, to help you let go,
to break habits. For instance, leaning while eating (weren't you always
told to "Take your elbows off the table!"?)
- Why the washing of hands without a blessing? What other times is
there a ritual washing of hands with no blessing? Upon rising in the
morning and leaving a cemetery. The reason given for the former is that
sleep is like a sixtieth part of death and that the taint of death
remains on the fingers. Likewise when leaving a cemetery. Being
confined in Mitzraim is like being buried alive, it's the living death,
the hungry ghosts. The opening volley in the road to freedom is to wash
your hands of the antithesis of life.
- Karpas: what is it? Karpas is usually a green, leafy, salty vegetable
like parsley, celery or watercress dipped into salt water. These are
your tears; those that you have shed and those that you haven't allowed
yourself to shed. Remember how they tasted as they ran down your
cheeks? Breathe. The Hagaddah is bringing you into contact with your
inner Mitzraim. Feel the constriction in your chest, the knots in your
stomach.
- The middle Matzah is removed and broken into approximately 1/3 : 2/3
pieces. WAIT!! Bring Kavannah (awareness) to one of the most poignant
rituals of the evening. Hold the unbroken Matzah in your hands. This
represents your true self. Whole without any ego-inflation, without the
swelling of pride, without being stuck in the head, without any
fermentation spoilage, without any masks. Just you as were as a child.
Tam - innocent - before the questioning started. And this is how you
wish to be again. And this is how you actually are if only you believed
it. Break it…. This is you now: lost innocence, lost faith, broken
spirit, distance from God, Galut - Exile - from self. The smaller
piece is held up and the declaration made, "This is the bread of my
poverty..." The larger piece is wrapped up and hidden. It becomes
transformed into the Afikoman - the last taste of the evening, the bread
of freedom, the bread of healing. It originates from the same material
but it is so different. This is the miracle of redemption.
- What is the difference between Matzah and Hametz? Just this much. It
is the difference between a little bit less than18 minutes and a little
bit more than18 minutes. Look at the Hebrew: Matzah has the letters
MEM, ZADDIK, HEH. Hametz has the letters HET, MEM, ZADDIK. The
difference between them is a HEH and a HET. And what's the difference
between them? The HEH is the same as a HET except that it has a small
opening in the top left. That's it - just a small gap, no bigger than
the eye of a needle. That's the difference between reality and
illusion, between ignorance and enlightenment, between darkness and
light, between arrogance and humility. Just that much.
- Ma Nishtana HaLila Hazeh? What is different this night from all other
nights? In what way are you prepared to be different after this night?
- "Rabbi Eliezer, Rabbi Joshua, …" The night will end. The dawn will
occur. The light will shine. And God's name will be ONE again. This
is the declaration of the Shema Yisrael prayer. And even if we ever
forget this truth our disciples (children) are there to remind us.
- "Rabbi Elazar, son of Azariah, said …" All spiritual paths demand the
same thing: to break through the illusions created by the ego-mind and
thereby become healed, to come back home, to end the exile. The Shema
prayer ends with a reminder of this by mentioning the redemption from
Egypt. Ben Zoma's comment about "…all the days of your life" suggests
that the redemption from Egypt should not only be referred to in the
light (day) i.e. as a past, historical event but must also be prayed for
in the dark (night) that we are in now. The sages go one step further
and declare that the seemingly endless cycle of going down into Mitzraim
(dusk), suffering in bondage (night), and being redeemed (dawn) does
have an end - it is in the promise, by the grace of God, of the coming
of the Messiah. The Messiah is the potential for total healing on the
personal, national, global and cosmic levels. And the process starts
this night…
- The Four Children: the wise one, the stubborn one, the innocent one,
and the one who knows not to ask. Taken in the opposite order they
aptly describe the natural development of the human individual: the
stage when we are too young to even formulate the question; the stage
when we can only ask the innocent questions; the rebellious stage when
it's all "Your stuff, not mine!"; to the understanding stage of
intellectual maturity. But that's not the end of the journey. After
the natural developmental program comes the spiritual developmental
opportunities. The 'stuck-in-the-head' self needs to go through a
rebellion against rationalism as a total means of understanding, maybe
even a suspension of dogmatic religious practice in order to discover
what's behind it; the innocent stage is when the true questions are
rediscovered, simple questions that go straight to the heart of the
matter; finally the point is reached when no more questions are
necessary, when comfort and wisdom are found in silence, when the answer
is simply, "Because."
- The turning point in the Haggadah, between slavery and freedom, pivots
upon one expression, "And we cried out," as it says, "And we cried out
to the Lord, the God of our fathers, and the Lord heard our cry, and saw
our affliction, our travail, and our oppression." (Deut. 26:7). After
this the emphasis is on the deliverance. This is the great secret of
healing: the healing doesn't come from within, it comes by the grace of
God. However to activate God's grace you have to do something - cry
out! God's overflowing love is wanting to become more manifest in our
lives. It is we in our arrogance, fear, swollen pride, ignorance, that
block the flow. Damn your arrogance and cry out! Overcome your fear and
cry out! Swallow your pride and cry out! Breakthrough your ignorance and
cry out! Just admit that you are powerless to free yourself from
Mitzraim. Just believe that only through a power greater than yourself
can redemption occur. Let go and turn your will and life over to the
loving care of God the Parent.?
- Exercise: Write down your "crying out." It should be addressed to
God, e.g. "God please get me out of here!" Use this exclamation as a
mantra. Repeat it until the tears flow. Repeat it as if your life
depends upon it being heard. Cry it out. Let yourself fall onto your
knees. And when you're ready roll over and lie in a fetal position.
You might want to have a blanket available to cover yourself. Allow
yourself to be wrapped in the loving arms of the Holy Spirit.
- Why did it take so long until the children of Israel were redeemed?
For 270 years they were in Egypt, about 100 years as slaves. What
changed? Did the suffering become too much? Was there a straw that
finally broke the camel's back? Maybe or maybe not. But there
definitely came the realization that suffering is not a necessity, "I
don't have to take it anymore!"*
The internal forces that oppose our desire to escape Mitzraim are great
and subtle:
"It will be OK."
"It doesn't really hurt - at least not that much."
"I can take it."
"It could be worse."
"At least it can't get any worse."
"I don't deserve better."
"It's my karma to suffer."
"That's life."
"One day this will all be over."
What's your excuse? And how much longer are you going to wait?
- Regression. It's so easy to fall back into Mitzraim. ("Just one
drink.") The power of habitual ways will fight to get us back into the
familiar confinement of prison. In prison there are no homeless, no
unemployed, no starving, no taxes and no freedom. It's a known
statistic that a large majority of prisoners when paroled, having spent
more than a certain time behind bars, will end up back in prison not
because they are hardened criminals but because freedom becomes more
scary than incarceration. Look what happens the moment the Children of
Israel leave: the moment they reach the seemingly impenetrable barrier
of Red (Reed) Sea they begged to return to Egypt, "Why did you bring us
to the desert to die?" At every point in their travels, whenever they
faced hardship they were ready to go back to "the Land of cucumbers,
melons, and garlic…" See how the mind distorts the past? Anything in
order to avoid the insecurity of freedom. This is especially true when
leaving a relationship that doesn't work, whether it's a place of
employment or a partner. I know that it's not working; I know staying
in the relationship is unhealthy; I know that I've got to get out but
there's so much resistance; it's so scary to be alone again; maybe if I
try harder …? And then suddenly it's over. I'm out! I just left and
I'm never going back! But I'm so cold and lonely, and scared that maybe
nobody will care for me again. Maybe we can work it out. Maybe if I go
back and we stick to our resolutions and we stop fighting and we start
listening to each other and, and … And we're back together again. But
after a few weeks we're back in the same rut. And this time I decide
that I'm leaving for good and never coming back! Never! …
- It is said that more than half of Hebrews living in Egypt decided to
stay.
- The Red (Reed) Sea is the Sea of Fear. See it lie before you and
know that that is what it is - fear. And when the they reached the Sea,
Egypt chased after them with 600 armed chariots to bring them back. And
they cried. And one man, Nachshon Ben Aminadav, began walking into the
water. Can you imagine: panic, fear, hysteria, total loss of faith.
And one man began to enter the water. The water came up to his knees
and he continued. The water came up to his waist and he continued. How
they must have cried out to him, "Come back! You don't have to end your
life that way! Maybe if we surrender we'll be spared and we can go back
to Mitzraim!" And the water came up to his chest, to his neck, to his
chin and still he continued. And then the waters reached his lips and
began to seep into his mouth. And suddenly the Sea split. And behold
laying in front of him was dry land, not muddy, even a puddle, but dry
land. And they walked through the Sea of their Fears as if their never
existed. And when they reached the other end the waters closed and
their resistance was seen drowning. And at that moment joy welled up in
their hearts and they burst forth in song. Do you remember when this
happened to you? What was your song?
- The name of Moshe, the servant of God, is not mentioned throughout the
whole Hagaddah. This is somewhat surprising considering the central
role he played in the whole drama of the exodus. This omission is part
of the dialectic between Purim and Pesach. In the Megillat Esther (the
Scroll of Esther) that was read during Purim the name of God is hidden.
There is a string of coincidences interspersed with human action. God
is transcendental; He works subtly behind the scenes to become manifest
through human agents who have to make their own decisions and in the end
fight; the crown is clearly on the head of Esther and Ahashvarosh;
Mordehai becomes the hero; the Divine plan remains a mystery until the
last moment. Pesach is the very opposite: there is an ordered plan
disclosed before the action starts; God is immanent; the Hand of God is
manifest; the people are very passive until the night of Pesach when all
they have to do is slaughter a lamb; Moses and Aaron are direct
emissaries speaking only the words that are channeled to them; the crown
is clearly on the head of the King of kings. To emphasize this direct
line of cause and effect the human agents and heroes are hidden. "I,
and not an angel; I, and not a seraph; I, and not a messenger; I, and no
other."
- When reading the each of the ten plagues a drop of wine is spilt using
the little finger dipped into the cup. This is usually understood to be
a symbolic gesture of reducing our level of joy (wine) in recognition of
the suffering of the Egyptians. But honestly, ten drops out of four
glasses is hardly a reduction in joy at the death of millions of
Egyptians. Now take a breathe and as we look at our own lives. Who have
we caused to suffer so that we can be here now, living the life that we
are living, at the level of freedom that we have presently chosen,
reading these very words? Who has suffered? First of all our mothers
for the discomfort of pregnancy and the pain of birth - the spilt
blood. Are you a first-born? If so, then you were the unconscious cause
of any suffering endured by your parents when you ended their period of
freedom as a pre-parenthood couple (Makat Bikorot - the death (lit.
blow) of the first-born). The pain we inflicted upon our siblings.
The suffering inflicted upon our partner in relationships. The pain
inflicted during the ending of a relationship. Even the pain that we
inflict upon our own children. What about the pain we inflict upon the
planet? What about the pain we have inflicted upon ourselves? Some of
this pain is consciously inflicted, some of the pain is unconscious.
Many times in order to get out of Egypt pain was necessarily
inflicted, like being born, like getting divorced. That doesn't mean
that we are cruel people, that we hurt for hurt's sake. There was a
price to pay in terms of human suffering by coming out of Egypt. There
was a price to pay in terms of human suffering by coming back to the
Land of Israel. This is NOT about GUILT. This is about recognizing that
there is a price for every step on the journey. This is not about
pointing the accusing index-finger; this is about opening our hearts to
the truth and using the little finger that points to the Torah when it
is held high and open. This is NOT about being sad, it is about being
aware in our joy.
- As the Egyptians drowned in the Sea of Reed and the liberated people
of Israel sang the song, the Midrash says that the Angels also sang
until God abruptly stopped them, "How can you sing while my creatures
die?" The people can sing at that moment of liberation since they are
so caught up in the moment that they don't have the perspective to see
or to empathize with the sufferings of others. And that's OK. But the
angels? They surely have the ability to rise above the occasion and
have a broader view of cause and effect? So when we spill our wine this
year we are given an opportunity to transcend the narrowness of our
human awareness and become like angels, even higher than angels.
- What is the goal of becoming aware of the pain that we have inflicted
along the way? To reduce to zero the pain that we will inflict during
the rest of the journey. To move into Messianic consciousness and
bring an end to suffering.
- There is a connection between Pesach and Tisha B'Av. The first day of
Pesach is always the same day of the week as Tisha B'Av (except when the
latter is shifted from Shabbat to Sunday). On Pesach we are just
becoming aware of the pain inflicted. On Tisha B'Av we grieve for the
loss of heart that results from it. On Yom Kippur we ask for forgiveness
for the suffering we have caused.
- Dayyenu! Let it suffice! Praise God and be content with the gifts
that God has given you. There's always room for more. But right now -
Dayyenu! If tomorrow were to be the last day of your life would you be
able to praise God for all that you have received up to now? Dayyenu!
- When eating the Matzah followed by the bitter herbs (Maror) dipped in
the sweet Haroset, followed by the combination of Matzah and Maror
(Koreh - Hillel's sandwich) do so as a silent, eating meditation. Give
yourself time to imbibe the intensity of the Matzah and the pungency of
the Maror. Let your consciousness float.
- Haroset: where does this come from? Where in the Torah is it
mentioned? We have Pesach, Maror and Matzah but no Haroset. It's not
mentioned in the Mishnah. It's introduced only in the Gemorah where
amongst other things one of its powers is to be able to exorcise some
strange bug from the head (Pesachim 127b). Most Haggadot attribute
Haroset to symbolic clay used to bind the bricks in Egypt. Let's go
deeper. What are the traditional ingredients of this mixture? Apples,
dates, red wine, cinnamon, and almonds crushed together to make a
paste. It tastes wonderful and is usually eaten by the spoonful.
However the instructions in the Haggadah are to dip the Maror into the
Haroset and shake off! Not to eat it. There's no special blessing on
the Haroset. In fact it's not meant to be eaten at all. Come and
listen. There is a Kabbalistic fable that says that King Solomon wrote
a book of all the cures to all the ailments that afflict the humankind.
It went further than Louis Hayes' book in that it not only attributed
the psychosomatic causes of dis-ease but also the spiritual root of
them. According to the Kabbalistic model the soul is attached to the
body by 613 channels of energy. These correspond to the 613
commandments. If any of these passages get blocked then energy can no
longer flow freely from the spiritual realms into the psychological,
emotional and physical bodies. The symptoms of such clogged light
arteries are sickness. The cure lies in the Mitzvah (commandment). So
the book consisted of lists and lists of ailments. When feeling ill
just look it up in the Book of Shlomo (Shalym - wholeness) and follow
the instructions. However the book began to be misused. Prayer for
wellbeing became obsolete. So the wise King hid all copies of the book
and in its stead he wrote the Song of Songs within which all the cures
are present but hidden in allegories. And what is the theme of this
book? Love. It is the love song between lovers. It is understood to
be an allegory of God's love for Israel. It is for this reason that it
is read during Pesach. Love - the cure-all for all dis-ease. Apples,
dates, red wine, cinnamon, and almonds, the ingredients of Haroset, all
feature in the Song. When the Haroset is eaten the Song is being
tasted. And the Song is love therefore the Haroset becomes a love
potion. All that is need is to dip the Maror, the bitterness, into the
love potion for the pain to be neutralized. It's a homeopathic remedy
for all dis-ease! Love cures all.
- The cup of Eliyahu (Elijah) the Prophet holds a mystical fascination
over children's imaginations and is a central feature of the Seder
table. What is it doing here? The source comes from a dispute in the
Talmud regarding the levels of redemption that we are to celebrate with
the drinking of wine. The levels appear as separate expressions in Ex.
6:6-8, "Therefore say to the Children of Israel, I am the Lord, and I
will exit you from under the burdens of Mitzraim, and I will deliver you
out of their bondage, and I will redeem you with an outstretched arm,
and with great judgements: and I will take you to me for a people … And
I will bring you into the land …" Is the last one part of the drama of
the Exodus or not? The answer is left undecided until the arrival of
Eliyahu, the herald of the Messiah, who will resolve all disputes.
Thus, in the meantime, we drink four cups and leave a fifth one undrunk
on the table. Is that all? Listen for lies a great secret. The
importance of Eliyahu at the Seder table is because of our deepest
slavery - our slavery to our family dramas. This inter-generational
gathering brings up all the worst - and best - memories of family
intra-actions. The family drama - the most insidious of all slaveries -
is ever present. The voice of our fathers; the voice of our mothers; the
voices of our siblings; and our own voice as a child; they are all
present at the Seder table whether physically present or as memories,
they are all there still pulling us this way and that. And the Seder
table, like everything else mentioned here, is only an encapsulation, a
microcosm of our lives. The manner in which we then relate to our
children and partners is so influenced by these voices that conjure up
such deep emotions. In the Haftorah (Reading from the Prophets) on the
Shabbat immediately before Pesach (called Shabbat HaGadol - the Great
Shabbat) the last lines from the last canonized Prophet - Malahi - are
read, "Behold, I will send you Eliya, the Prophet before the coming of
the great and awesome day of the Lord; and he shall turn the heart of
the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their
fathers…" (Mal. 3:23-24). Here is the goal and here is the promise.
The Messiah, the great healing, will come when we can open our hearts to
our parents and when we can, as parents, open our hearts to our
children. And hear them, and be heard. And to love them, and to be
loved.
- "Pour out Thy wrath upon the Nations…" Jewish anger for the years of
abuse is transferred into the hands God. He will know best what to do
with it.
- "Shvoh Hamteha" ("Pour out Thy wrath") Do not read it as wrath but
rather as warmth (Ham - hot); "Pour out Thy warmth upon the Nations;
warm them up so that they will be able to acknowledge You and worship
You."
- The Afikoman is usually translated from the Greek as 'the after-meal -
the dessert'. However it is also considered to mean 'After he comes'.
After who comes? The Messiah. The Afikoman is the bread of your
healing. It is the bread of true freedom, of joyous servitude to God.
- The Afikoman is 'stolen' by the children and then ransomed for it is
only the children that have the ability to bring the final healing.
They have not yet lost the gift of prophecy. They are still connected.
They will redeem us. And what is true of our children is true of our
inner child.
- The child stands before us with the Afikoman in its hand, a big grin
on its face, and asks, "What is it worth to you? What are you prepared
to pay for your healing; for everything has a price?" The Afikoman is
usually under-priced.
- In the week after Pesach we have Holocaust Remembrance Day followed
the week after by Memorial Day for Israel's fallen fighters and Israel's
Independence Day. Doesn't this exactly mirror the process reflected in
the Hagaddah - from slavery to freedom; out of the dark into the light?
- The gold and the silver that we took out of Egypt. This is very
deep. Out of the darkness of your own imprisonment there is also
treasure to take out with you. It is never totally black nor
worthless. "And the Children of Israel left with the gold and silver of
Egypt." The question then comes, what do you do with such a treasure?
It can either be dedicated upwards to God (through the Tabernacle) or
corrupted into idolatry (the Golden Calf). So the questions for you are
what did you learn from the time you spent in your inner Egypt and how
can that be used for good in the world? And what is true for the
individual is true for our people. After 2000 years of exile what have
we learnt that can be used for the good of the world?
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