Thursday, April 7, 2011

Enjoy the Rush: Here Comes Pesach!

Dear Rivy –

I love Pesach – once I am sitting at the Seder that is; till that point the rush and the panic are so difficult to handle. Is it just me? Why does our tradition have such stressful ritual as part of its modus operandi?
You are not alone, but you know that. You surely have chatted with family and friends and know intellectually that we are all in the same demanding dash towards the holiday that ironically marks our freedom from slavery.

I deeply believe that there are no accidents in Jewish practice; that even the most seemingly commonplace convention holds within it a transcendent loftiness and a message of meaning. That is the profound nature of our tradition. There must be something more to this rush than meets the eye. We all are experiencing haste before this holiday like no other haste. Though all of the holidays present their own unique panic quotient this one has its own particular deeply felt ontological rush.

What is the genesis of this rush? Let me take you back to the very first Pesach often referred to as “Pesach Mitzrayim, the Egyptian Passover. Moshe sets forth meticulous instructions for the evening’s rituals. Every detail is connected to this haste, this existential alacrity if you will.

And they shall eat the flesh in that night, roast with fire, and unleavened bread; with bitter herbs they shall eat it. Eat not of it raw, nor sodden at all with water, but roast with fire; its head with its legs and with the inwards thereof. And you shall let nothing of it remain until the morning; but that which remains of it until the morning you shall burn with fire. And so shall ye eat it: with your loins girded, your shoes on your feet, and your staff in your hand; and you shall eat it in haste--it is the LORD'S passover.

This is nothing if not the description of the original “fast food” menu. The matzo is the bread that will necessitate no time to rise. We ate matzo on the night of Passover in anticipation of the dash of deliverance that is yet to come. There is not putting up of bread to rise for this meal. The plans for the evening call for unleavened flatbread – we’ve got a freedom train to catch. The main course? Meat for which there will be no long cooking time – no slow braising here, no meat that falls of the bone with the patience of the slow simmer.

The setting is no elegant restaurant with white table cloths delivering the leisurely meal of courses and hours. Here the attire is utilitarian inelegant travel wear. The sign might stipulate, “No Staff in Hand – No Service. No doggy bags, no leftovers – we will not be around for it and we surely cannot take it with us. The original eat and run. The consumption is in “haste” – the hurriedness of the evening is clear. But we are not the only ones in a rush. The Holy One is swiftly swooping in on the Egyptian firstborns, passing over.

What’s the rush? Two ancient rabbinic views;
Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah says, What is meant by haste? The haste of the Egyptians.
While Rabbi Akiva says: It is the haste of Israel.

The argument; who is the author of this great acceleration of the redemption? Does it emanate from our enemy, “And the Egyptians were urgent upon the people, to send them out of the land in haste” or is this a self-constructed quickness to extricate ourselves from the bonds of slavery? Our sages’ argument is a weighty dispute. Do the people Israel determine their destiny or are we forever at the mercy of the persecutor du jour? Rabbi Akiva staunchly contends that we own our liberation – though the Egyptians pressured us to exit immediately - we will not leave until the morning. We own this rush.

Maimonides introduces a preliminary statement about the acceleration of our forefathers into his Haggadah. This is to be recited even before the opening paragraph, “Ha Lacham Anya, this is the bread of our affliction.” He inserts this short phrase for us to proclaim, “With a sudden haste we left Egypt.” This is a dramatic innovation for the otherwise scripted traditional text of the Hagadah.

Rabbi Joseph Dov Soloveitchik asks why this aspect of haste, chipazon, is so important to Maimonides? Why did it become the focal point of the evening? Chipazon he explains means “time consciousness”, the excitement of hurrying, of trying to catch up, of making sure that one is in a position to act when the opportunity next presents itself. Chipazon is the attempt to cover distance, to move forward quickly. This is the manifestation of the concept of living time. For the Israelite slaves this newly acquired control of time was the essence of their freedom. For it was then that they regained the concept of time, and that they as a people became free; free to be in a rush.

For the newly freed slave, time is everything. For this reason Judaism is very much centered on holiness in time. Time matters. We were freed in the nick of time. Abraham Joshua Heschel in his celebrated work, “The Sabbath”, writes poetically that we Jews “build cathedrals in time.” Our time is precious here on earth and once free, we have no time to waste in our serving of the Lord.

This fresh liaison between the People Israel and their God is characterized by this rush of love – an elopement if you will. Rabbi Berlin writes that this chipazon, this hurriedness is eminent Presence of God, metaphorically alluded to in the Song of Songs, “The voice of my Beloved! Here He comes! Leaping over the mountains, skipping over the hills…” Dr. Avivah Zornberg conceptualizes it this way, “God acts in a mode of passionate syncopation, disregarding the conventions, overlooking the normal rhythms of history. Some acceleration of events… must happen if they are to be redeemed.”

This is a deep and ancient hurry that we are sensing. So, if you are rushing to get ready for Pesach – that’s a good thing. It’s all about feeling as if it was we ourselves were redeemed- we share in the existential rush of our People. We lean luxuriously on Seder night and try so hard to imagine slavery. While our ancestors sat impatiently with staff in hand, loins girded, rushed and ready, dreaming of freedom.

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