I bet you’re thinking, “Wrong holiday.” What does the lulav have to do with Pesach?
The Talmud (Sukkah 11b) raises the issue of “lulav tzarich egged,”
the lulav needs a handle to bind it together with the hadasim (myrtles)
and aravot (willows). The word “egged”
contains the root which means to bring together or to unite.
That root also has a prominent place at our Pesach Seder table
during Maggid, the part of the Seder when we recount and try to recreate
the story of our exodus from Egypt.
Maggid has two purposes. One is
“egged,” all Jews read the same text containing similar facts and
details about a shared experience. The
other is “l’haggid,” to tell stories, to jump off the page and share our
own personal understanding and familial experiences. We all read the story of the rabbis having a
Seder in Bnei Brak. Each of us, though,
knows and tells our own personal favorite Seder stories. What is your favorite Pesach memory? Where did your great-grandfather celebrate
Pesach? Remember the time we couldn’t
fine the afikoman?
Jews are called “the people of the book,” but one can also say
that we are “the people of the story.” Judaism
is about religion, law, and theology, and Judaism is also about transmitting
our individual and communal narrative. Rav
Kook notes the role of both stories and law in the Torah. He calls the
experiences of the patriarchs and matriarchs, “Torat Avot,” and we learn
about our responsibilities and law in “Torat Moshe.”
Pesach, with its sippur yetzias mitzraim obligation of
telling the Exodus story, is our annual festival of stories. We reconnect with our ability to tell, teach,
and transmit stories. We get in touch
with our inner child and our ability to get excited over how the story will still
end. We remember that stories have a
unique power to inform and to inspire, to fascinate and to educate.
Stories help guarantee our future.
A story is told of two rabbis competing for the position of
Rabbi of an important Jewish community in Easter Europe. One was a famed scholar of halakhah, while the
other, while also a scholar, was more well-known for his knowledge of Jewish
history.
The scholar made his claim in being the superior candidate by
claiming, “I know the whole Torah. Even
if others forget or don’t have the books, I can ensure Torah will be
remembered.” The other rabbi also made
his case for deserving the position. He
said, “I am an expert in the telling of the story of the Jewish people. If we know and teach the story, Judaism will
never be forgotten.”
The second Rabbi got the job.
Stories are key to Jewish survival.
Here is another of my favorite stories which demonstrate the
power of stories.
The holy Baal Shem-Tov loved his people. Whenever he sensed they were in danger, he
would go to a secret place in the woods, light a special fire, and say a
special prayer. Then, without fail, his
people would be saved from danger. The
Baal Shem-Tov passed on and his disciple, the Magid of Mezritch, came to lead
the people. Whenever he sensed his
people were in danger, he would go to the secret place in the woods. "Dear
God," he would say, “I don't know how to light the special fire, but I
know the special prayer. Please let that
be good enough.” It was, and the people
would once again be saved from danger.
When the Magid passed on, he was succeeded by Rabbi Moshe Leib of
Sasov, and whenever he heard that his people were in danger, he would go to the
secret place in the woods. "Dear
God," he would say, "I don't know how to make the special fire, I
don't know how to say the special prayer, but I know this secret place in the
woods. Please let that be good
enough." It was, and the people
would once again be saved from danger.
When Rabbi Moshe passed, he was succeeded by Rabbi Israel of
Rizhyn, and whenever somebody told him that his people were in danger, he
didn't even get out of his armchair. He
could only bow his head and shrug his shoulders. "Dear God," he would pray, "I
don't know how to make the special fire. I don't know how to say the special
prayer. I don't even know the secret
place in the woods. All I know is the
story, and I'm hoping that's good enough." It was, and his people would be saved.
Stories have tremendous value. As we gather around the Seder table, let’s
tell some of the greatest stories ever told.
It may not be enough, but it is an essential step in the right direction
for today.
