The Jewish Observer

I have always loved Pesach (Passover for the non-Jewish readers). I love the seder with friends and whatever family can make it to Tallahassee. I like the week of not eating out, but depending on what we fix according to the food regulations at home. I like that we begin to count the Omer, connecting the holiday of liberation to the holiday of accepting the responsibility of Torah – Shavuot. This is one of those joyful times that make it very fun to be Jewish. Many years, I do not delve into the meanings of Pesach much beyond what we read in our Hagadahs during seder – that is – all of the standard lessons. That is unusual for me as I like to explore the depths of our various holidays, but Pesach has always been this kind of nice, relaxed spring celebration. This is the year I went a little further.

For some reason I was more attuned to looking a bit beyond the surface this year. It really started as I looked at the liturgy for the service on the morning of the first day of Pesach. During the Amidah, we refer to Pesach as chag hamatzot, (the holiday of matzahs) and then as z’man cheruteinu, the time of our freedom. The Hebrew consonants in the word matzot (matzahs) is the same as the Hebrew word mitzvoth (commandments). So I began to read the phrase (also based on a teaching by Rashi I had seen) the holiday as chag hamitzvot, “the holiday of commandments.” Pesach is a time during which even the more casual Jew becomes a bit more aware of the commandments. By refraining from eating leaven, by eating matzah, or by attending a seder, many Jews who are not daily or weekly participants in ritual mitzvoth participate in the holiday. We become a bit more “commandment aware.” For me, this leads more profoundly to z’man cheruteinu, the time of our freedom. We tend to forget that the Exodus story does not end with the crossing of the Sea of Reeds, but continues on to the giving and acceptance of Torah, complete with all 613 commandments. It is the acceptance of responsibility that more clearly defines and gives meaning to our freedom.

This leads me to the second meaning of Pesach that struck me a bit more profoundly this year – the yearning and desire for freedom. I read a wonderful article by Rabbi David Hartman z/l, published in 2012. To access please follow this link: http://www.hartman.org.il/Blogs_View.asp?Article_Id=1104&Cat_Id=414&Cat_Type=Blogs
Hartman addresses the ways we wrongly focus in the run up and during Pesach. He criticizes two typical reactions by Jews, the obsession with food and cleaning out chometz for the holiday, and the stress on the miracle of God’s deliverance from slavery in Egypt. Rabbi Hartman teaches that Pesach is the time we become increasingly aware of the human yearning for freedom, and consequently of our obligations to help relieve human suffering and oppression. There is human obligation and action at the center of the Exodus story as much as there is a response and involvement by God. Rabbinic tradition recognizes this with midrashim such as the famous one in which Nachshon ben Aminadav plunges forward into the sea while Moses is standing praying to God to intervene. God points out to Moses that Nachshon’s action, that is human action, is a necessary precursor to divine intervention.
But perhaps the most impactful reflection I had about Pesach is from the educational perspective. In the Haggadah we read about the 4 sons (or children); wise, wicked, simple and too young to ask. We can pin these four types of children to the four times in the Torah we are told to instruct our children about the Exodus from Egypt (Exodus 12:26-27, Exodus 13:8, Exodus 13:14, and Deuteronomy 6:20-25). The Mishnah, in Pesachim10:4, takes all of this and concludes, “According to the knowledge of the child his father instructs him.” Rabbinic tradition recognizes that different children learn in different methods and at different paces. Rather than looking at the passage about the 4 sons as a contrast between the good and the evil son, we might learn more by looking at the whole passage as a lesson in differing the different learning styles that different children require. Talmud is replete with teachings regarding both what we teach our children and how we should go about it. Rabbinic literature considers pedagogical issues such as student to teacher ratio, what lessons are appropriate for children of varying ages, the differing speeds with which children learn, and the learning styles of various children.
I teach students working to become bar/bat mitzvah as well as teens ranging from 15 to 17. I see how much of what is happening in our public schools is absolutely failing these children. I also see how those in good schools, programs, or with good teachers are lifted by those experiences. I see firsthand the results of the failures of schools to teach critical thinking, to foster love of learning, and sometimes teach outright false information. Of all the issues facing our community and our country today, none, to my mind, is more critical than addressing the quality of educating our children. Pesach has been joyful this year. But as it draws to a close, the message of the 4 sons, of how we are obligated to ensure proper education for all of our children, is the lasting reflection I am carrying forward. I hope everyone had a Pesach sameach.