On Tuesday night, I hosted a large Passover seder at my home in Jackson, Mississippi. Out of love for this Jewish dinner party, I may have opened my big mouth—then, inevitability, my door—to a few too many friends.
I realized this seder would be different as I prepared the charoset. Ever since I was old enough to wield a knife, I have been the one to slowly hand chop apples and walnuts for our family seder. It’s cathartic for me to count down the apples, add lemon juice so the apples won’t brown, and stir in the honey with my hands. After about two minutes of chopping, though, I realized my stack of apples was taller than usual; they went straight into the food processor – and this year, convenience trumped tradition, resulting in charoset with more liquid than usual.
Yikes! Why was I compromising my usual charoset consistency? Because I was too excited about sharing Passover, and ended up inviting 30 people for seder. And no, these weren’t just Jews who needed a place to go, I had 13 seder virgins! I chose to invite my non-Jewish friends and neighbors because most of them didn’t grow up in places with a significant Jewish population and had never been invited to help celebrate Passover. In fact, many of my guests don’t know many Jewish people besides, other than myself and other members of the ISJL staff.
We went through the seder with some moments of quiet reflection, and some of laughter and levity. I encouraged guests to read along with the Hebrew transliteration, and my heart swelled when everyone’s voices joined together for “Go Down Moses.” We had a surprisingly successful gefilte fish tasting, sang a song about the afikomen to the tune of “Oklahoma” and answered a lot of questions about matzah.
Was it the most traditional or religious seder? No, not by any means. But I made that clear to my guests and encouraged them to take home the haggadahs to study up for next year. But even with soggier charoset, I’m glad that I was able to provide some of my guests their first Jewish seder experience.
I enjoy having my home filled with friends and food, so it’s understandable why I got so excited about hosting a Passover seder. It’s a tradition that lends itself to bringing people into your house and sharing a meal that’s interactive, educational and delicious. I’m already planning for next year—with a tent outside!—and you are all invited.
By ISJL Education Fellow, Sam Kahan
During the annual ISJL Education Conference, Education Fellows traditionally present some sort of “schtick” during meals. This year the Fellows pondered the question: “if you were a Jewish superhero, who would you be?”
As the daughter of an excellent Jewish mother, I know that feeding those you love is both a Jewish value and, at times, a superhuman accomplishment. Having inherited my mother’s drive for preparing and sharing meals, I had to incorporate food into my wished-for superpower.
My passion for feeding others manifests itself in many ways. For one, I love to cook for friends when they stop by my house. It is in my blood, or so my mother tells me. But my desire to share sustenance with others is not limited to friends and family, rather, it extends to the community at large.
A few years ago, a friend and I were involved with an organization that set up a temporary food pantry on the corner of a busy Baltimore intersection during Thanksgiving. There we were: armed with hundreds of thanksgiving meals, donated clothing, blankets and other items essential for surviving a brutally cold winter on the Baltimore streets. As I served a tremendous number of homeless people who stopped by to receive aid, I found myself thinking. I thought of what a mitzvah it was that this group of people took time out of their Thanksgiving, a day reserved for family and friends, to make sure that the larger community was taken care of.
I reflect back on this moment and recognize the teachings of Judaism that not only encourage, but command us to care for those who are hungry. The aspiration to feed friends, family, and community echoes Jewish values and is a Jewish superpower we should all work to develop. Matzah Mama will make her next appearance at Rodef Sholom Temple in Hampton, Virginia, during a Passover program about creating family traditions, be sure to watch out for her!
If you were a Jewish superhero, who would you be?
You may have noticed we’ve had a few B’nai Mitzvah-related posts lately. We are at the start of celebrating our 13th year and in that spirit we’re launching an occasional series of B’nai Mitzvah reflections.
Explaining the idea behind a bar/bat mitzvah isn’t terribly difficult. When talking to someone about this Jewish life cycle moment, most people can relate to a coming of age ceremony, whether it’s a Quinceañera, debutante ball, or in this neck of the woods, the time you killed your first deer. They understand that, at a certain age, a young person comes to be seen as an adult in his or her community, and begins to take on adult responsibilities.
People don’t immediately understand, however, what David Duchovny has to do with it.
At thirteen I was devoted to Special Agents Mulder and Scully, dedicated to searching for the truth and committed to trusting no one. So much so that I knew these ideals had to be included in this important life event. And that’s how, while I was stuck studying Haftorah, my totally cool mother ended up planning my elaborate X-Files themed Bat Mitzvah party.
My favorite elements of the theme, to this day, are probably the life size cardboard cutouts of Special Agents Mulder and Scully that stood beside me as I sang a medley of show tunes to family and friends. They lived in my room for about three years after the party.
Explaining this circus of a bat mitzvah to non-Jewish friends, I often encounter a cultural divide. I have to backtrack and explain that, even though having a thoroughly themed party is pretty common where I grew up, it’s certainly not the rule. These celebrations come in all shapes and sizes, much like Jews themselves! While a lot about this Jewish rite of passage is mysterious to to the general public, I know my thirteen year old self is awfully glad that after this post, the truth is finally out there.