Passover in a time of COVID: reflections on stories, change and freedom
Tonight is Passover.
Over the next 24 hours, Jews from all over the world will be connecting with family (via Zoom) to share a Passover meal and re-tell the story of the Jews’ exodus from Egypt thousands of years ago.
For the last few days, I’ve been reflecting on the Passover story, and the ritual of the Passover seder, and wondering what they might offer in the context of a world turned upside down by Coronavirus.
Three important elements of Passover, which feel relevant to the world right now are: (1) stories (2) change (3) freedom.
Stories
The ritual of the Passover seder is the re-telling of the Passover story. Each year families come together and, through a combination of prayer, recitation, discussion, questions, and song, recall the story of the Jews’ emancipation from slavery in Egypt.
A seder plate — filled with symbolic food — anchors the story. The salty water reminds us of the tears wept. The charoset — a sweet relish made with nuts, honey and apples — is used to recall the mortar that the Jews used to construct the Egyptian buildings.
We do this because storytelling brings things to life. In re-telling the Passover story each year, this part of Jewish history shifts from something abstract to a core part of our identities. The pain suffered, lessons learned, and joy experienced, become part of the contemporary Jewish experience.
I wonder, when this virus has passed, what rituals we will create to remember this time. I wonder what stories we will tell our children. I also wonder how we will commemorate this moment in history in order to honour lives lost, and capture lessons learned.
Change
The re-telling of the Passover story centres on Moses — leader of the Jewish people — imploring Pharoah to “Let my People Go”. Pharoah refuses; so God inflicts ten plagues upon the Egyptian people.
Pharoah does not relent easily. After each plague, Moses returns to Pharoah and again demands freedom. Each time, Pharoah refuses. The tenth plague — death of the firstborn — finally proves too much. Pharaoh agrees to grant the Jewish people their freedom.
This element of the Passover story shows how difficult times can catalyse radical change. Pushed to the limits by the plagues, Pharoah’s discomfort is too great, and he releases the slaves; something previously unthinkable.
What we are experiencing now, as a result of Coronavirus, is perhaps not all that dissimilar to the pain that would have been felt by Pharoah and the Egyptians in the context of the plagues.
People are dying. People are sick. People feel scared. The world doesn’t feel safe.
For everyone, even for those like myself, who are extremely lucky in the scheme of things, this is not an easy time. We’re being told to stay inside; we’re not allowed to see loved ones; we can’t do many of the things that make us happy and fulfilled.
I am interested to see what emerges — both in the short and longer term — as a result of the discomfort we are feeling. How will people’s perspective on the world shift? What practices might be abandoned? What new practices adopted?
Freedom
The story of Passover is a story about freedom. It is a story of how a people — oppressed by slavery for hundreds of years — are finally set free.
For most people, like me, who are born into liberal democratic countries, freedom is generally not something we think about all that much. We’re used to occasional debates about freedom of speech or expression. But I think it’s fair to say that freedom of movement and assembly are largely taken for granted.
Not now.
Citizens who previously assumed these freedoms to be an inalienable right are being told they must stay home; that they cannot meet with more than one other person.
In countries where liberal democratic norms are not as deeply entrenched, the advent of the coronavirus is leading to the emergence of new dictatorships and restriction of movement imposed by force, rather than fines.
I wonder how this experience will change how we understand freedom. I wonder if it will build appreciation. I wonder where, how, and when the current restrictions on freedom of movement and assembly will be lifted, and what their legacy will be.
Why is this night different from other nights?
A highlight of the Seder each year is when the youngest child sings the “Ma Nishtana” — a song which asks, “why is this night different from other nights?” The adults and older children respond in song to offer answers.
This year feels more different than usual.
Next year, I hope (expect!) to be sitting with my family, reflecting on what a strange year 2020 was.
I also hope that at next year’s Passover seder, we take the opportunity to share stories about what we’ve learned, how we’ve changed, what we’ve abandoned, and what we’ve embraced.
