Passover should be about thanksgiving
Somewhere between Yaacov praising Hashem, albeit indirectly, by telling Esau that he, Yaacov, has everything and us contemporary Jews offering up our thanks, each year, at the Seder, with our singing of Dayenu, it's in our blood to be grateful. Our gratitude, in turn, helps us cleave to The Boss, especially when we are challenged. I have friends for whom the acquisition of the latest gewgaw is an art. Be the objects of their desire clothes, electronics, or other items, they "obsess 'til possess" and then want everyone to know what they acquired. If we were meant only to focus on physical pleasures, we would be brutes, like the ones we will again offer in sacrifice, in our service of Hashem. Pesach Cleaning
I think that somewhere along the translation of Hebrew to Aramaic, to Farsi, to French, to English and back to Hebrew, the words "spring" and "Pesach" got exchanged. It seems the moment Purim is over, Jews all over the world, or at least the female half of the population, go into a frenzy usually associated not with liberation, but with the enslavement of spring cleaning. The rule for Pesach cleaning, which I've learned from halachic authorities, is that anything a dog would eat has to go. This definition, however, leaves me with a few problems. 1) Shoes. Dogs have a tendency to chew on shoes. While I highly doubt sneakers are bread-based, they are still something a dog would eat. 2) Dust. Dogs don't eat dust, as far as I know. Yet somehow, every Jewish mother insists on expelling every particle from her house. 3) The freezer. If, during the week before Pesach, we let a starving dog into our homes to see what, if anything, it might eat, it would undoubtedly head to our kitchens, especially to our freezers. A freezer well stocked with Pesach meat and fish would make a dog very happy. Visiting the Kotel
In the center of the Old City, in the center of this sphere of the universe, a fundamental tradition of our forefathers continues. There, at the Western Wall, at the Kotel , at the last portion of our former Temple, at the site of our future Beit HaMikdash, we Jews gather. At this holy site, we assemble to pray for health, for prosperity, for happiness and for the Moshiach. Our words of longing fly in every language. At this singular place, our hands, young and otherwise, stretch to clasp at holiness, to beg mercy, to exclaim Providence. Under this wall's shy boughs of caper flowers, we extend ourselves to strengthen the triple cords of generations, past, future and present. |
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