Passover

With nothing better to do in a small southwestern country town on a Saturday I attended my first Passover Seder today. To my surprise, the impressive local brick Congregation Beth Israel building has stood for 75 years, though the community is now very small. There were perhaps twenty of us at the meal. As there was no rabbi a female lay leader read many of the blessings and we took turns reading from the Passover story out of The Family Seder, published in 1967. We sang some songs, one of which will definitely stay with me, expressing thanks that if God had only delivered us from Egypt we would be thankful and satisfied, as we would had he only given us manna, or given us the promised land, etc. How strange it was for me to find exegesis and liturgy to be united, and very satisfying, with the haggadah exploring meanings and readings of the stories and rituals. Must I also confess it was troubling as the twin shadows of Cold War and Zionist rhetoric loomed over the rituals in this particular edition of the Seder, everything an emblem of Western political liberalism and its insatiable demand for sacrifice? This and the final prayer for God's fiery vengeance on Israel's enemies (the only amen that failed me) had a bitter taste and when I came home to read John 19-21 made the drama of the text so real for me. God do not let me blame them or anyone, their failings are ours and when we sin we crucify Christ anew. God have mercy on me and all of us.

I had attended a stations of the cross at the Catholic church last week as well, and while the pain and compassion at what Christ suffered was sharp and present, the whole pageant seemed so unreal and distant from the heart of the Passion. How grateful I am for Jesus, who died for us. By God's grace, may his atonement heal us all and the whole earth. Oh thank you God.