"Lily's Room"

This is an article collection between June 2007 and December 2018. Sometimes I add some recent articles too.

For Passover Seder

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(1)5 Thoughts for Your Passover Seder
Thought-provoking questions and insights to share at your Seder.
by Rabbi Aaron Goldscheider
7 March 2015
1. Inscribe the Story on the Hearts of our Children
The central mitzvah of the Seder is to tell the story of leaving Egypt. Our Sages term the telling of the story, in Hebrew, sippur yetziat Mitzrayim, “the story of the Exodus from Egypt.” Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik teaches that the term sippur, story, is related to the word sofer, “scribe,” or sefer, which means a “scroll” or a “book.”
What this meaning suggests is that a sofer, a scribe, who writes a sefer, a scroll, produces something that is permanent, something that will last for generations.
On Seder night, parents are also involved in the act of “writing an everlasting scroll.” The child is the sefer, the scroll upon which the parent etches the beauty of this sacred night in the child’s mind.
On Passover night we are to be sofrim, scribes, writing indelibly on the hearts and on the minds of our children the story that will be passed down to all succeeding generations.
According to the Midrash (Yalkut Shimoni, Ve’zot Habracha, Remez 962), when Moses died, a voice from Heaven called out, “Moses has died, the great scribe of Israel.”
Why was this term used to describe Moses? Was this his greatest attribute – that he wrote Torah scrolls?
Rabbi Soloveitchik explains that “a great scribe” does not just mean that he was a scribe of Torah scrolls. Rather, Moses wrote upon the hearts of his people. He etched the wisdom of the Torah into the very soul of the nation. And he did so in a way that each generation would pass it on to the next.
This is also our goal on the night of the Seder: to impart the Torah on the very souls of our children.
Q: What traditions and values are most important to pass on to your children in today’s world?
2. Breaking the Matzah as a Symbol of Sharing
We break the matzah as a symbol of the poor man’s bread that the Jewish slaves ate in Egypt. One way of understanding this is that a poor person, who can never know where his next meal is coming from, breaks off a piece and saves it for later.
Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik offered a different interpretation of the “poor man’s bread” that was eaten by the Jews in Egypt.
Although when we think of the enslavement of the Jewish people in Egypt, we usually think that all the Jews must have been equally burdened by it, but in truth that was not so. There were various degrees of slavery. Some Jews lived under better conditions, some worse. According to our Sages, the tribe of Levi was never enslaved. What this means is that some had access to food and some did not.
Those that did, claims Rabbi Soloveitchik, broke their bread and shared it with other Jews who had less. The Jews who were enslaved in Egypt would split their piece of matzah and share it with the poor who needed it; hence the term “poor man’s bread.” This is symbolized by the act of breaking the matzah in half: Yachatz. When we break the matzah as our forefathers did, it is a symbol of the hesed, the loving-kindness, and the solidarity of Jews toward their fellow Jews, their brothers and sisters, even under the harshest conditions.
Q: How do we learn to become more compassionate and giving people?
3. Why Eat Bitter Herbs?
The Hasidic master, Reb Yehuda Aryeh Leib of Ger (1847–1905) in his commentary, the S’fat Emet, (Pesach, 1873) cited his grandfather, Rabbi Yitzchak Meir of Ger, known as the Chidushei HaRim who poses the question, “Why do we eat bitter herbs?” He answered the question in the following way: “Feeling pain, the ‘bitterness,’ is actually a sign of redemption. Just feeling the bitterness is itself the first glimmer of freedom; for the worst kind of slavery is when we grow so accustomed to it that we accommodate ourselves to it.”
Rav Kook interprets the meaning of the marror, the bitter herbs, in a similar way: There is a danger that a slave will become so accustomed to his condition that he prefers not to go free. But this was not the case with the Jews. We Jews felt the bitterness – we knew that this was not the life that we were destined for. We knew that we had come from a holy heritage and that we were “princes of God.”
Eating marror at the Seder, while indisputably a reminder of the bitterness of our lives as slaves, should also be viewed as a sign of the special quality that we possessed. We always managed to maintain our sense of self, and we always knew that we were a unique people. We “thankfully” tasted the bitterness and knew that we were destined to lead lives that were more noble and dignified.
Q: How do we break away from societal influences that can dull our sense of self and impinge on attaining our personal aspirations?
4. Discovering the Torah in You
“Had He brought us before Mount Sinai, and not given us the Torah – dayeinu – it would have been enough for us!”
This verse in the Dayeinu song seems to make very little sense, says the Hasidic master, Reb Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev.
The song culminates in these lines: “Had He brought us to Mount Sinai and not given us the Torah, it would have sufficed, dayeinu.”
But what would be the purpose of coming to Mount Sinai and not receiving the Torah?
The answer, he says, lies in what happened in the days and the precious moments preceding the giving of the Torah. Each person who was present so sincerely and deeply opened themselves to God and to the Torah that they were able to discover that the Torah, the will of God, was already implanted within their minds and hearts. Each of us contains the Torah within us, says Reb Levi Yitzchak. The problem is that we so often are preoccupied with the superficialities of life that it prevents us from turning inward and discovering what is truly meaningful and right.
Says Reb Levi Yitzchak, coming to Sinai alone and casting aside all material concerns to hear only the word of God was sufficient to evoke this discovery: the experience of an inner awareness of God’s will, even before experiencing God’s revelation. This is the deeper explanation of these words: Had we only been brought to Mount Sinai and not given the Torah, Dayeinu, it would have been sufficient!
Q: How do we strip away the many distractions that often limit us in developing a real closeness with God?
5. The Heroic Act of Personal Change
“…you were naked and bare” – Passover Haggadah
It is one of the most obscure verses we cite on Seder night.
The author of the Haggadah quote a verse from the book of Ezekiel which describes the Jewish slave in Egypt: “I caused you to thrive like the plants of the field, and you increased and grew and became very beautiful…but you were naked and bare (Ezekiel 16:7).
What is the meaning of this cryptic verse?
Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik explains that the life of the Israelite slave was a “naked one,” a beastly one. They had been negatively influenced over hundreds of years living a culture that was debased and depraved. Unfortunately, many Jews were living lives that did not reflect a moral and noble behavior, they had succumbed to a life which was “naked and bare,” uncouth and unrefined.
And then something almost unimaginable happened, a miracle far greater than all the signs and wonders in Egypt. The Jewish slaves transformed their lives, lifting themselves up and opened their hearts to accept the Divine will. They chose a new path devoted to higher ideals and goals. This says the Rav, required wondrous courage, what the Kabbalistic tradition terms ‘gevura’; conquering destructive desires and implementing self-restraint and self-sacrifice.
This heroic and transformative act on the part of the Jewish people in choosing a sacred way of life remains one of the most important and enduring lessons of the Exodus story; an inspiration for us in our own religious growth for all time.
Q: Passover is a time for personal change. What can do to begin making the changes we want to make in our lives?
These and many other Passover teachings can be found in the new best-selling Haggadah, ‘The Night That Unites’ (Urim Publications) by Rabbi Aaron Goldscheider

(2)After the Fire: 4 Questions for Parents
This Passover, let’s take Gabriel Sassoon’s heartbroken words to heart.
by Slovie Jungreis-Wolff
28 March 2015

We are all reeling from the tragic loss that has rocked the Jewish world. Seven souls, seven angels whose sweet voices I just heard singing “Cry No More Yerushalayim” on a recording released by the Sassoon family. It is difficult for me to keep listening; I wipe away my tears. Who cannot be touched by this tsunami of grief?
In his eulogy, Gabriel Sassoon’s voice shook as he described each of his beautiful children who had perished in the tragic fire. He told the anguished crowd, “I want to ask my children for forgiveness. I did my best and my wife did her best. Please, everybody, love your child. That’s all that counts. Understand that.”
Let us take this heartbroken father’s words to heart. To honor the memory of these children, let us take the time before Passover begins to learn how to love each child better. This holiday is our opportunity to engage our sons and daughters, connect with them, and teach them how much God cares for them. The Hagaddah guides us in our quest to renew our bond with each child sitting at our table and make them feel cherished and adored.
The following four questions
1. Did I search for my personal chametz?
On the eve before the Passover Seder we conduct a search for chametz-leaven. After the search we say, “Any type of leaven that may still be in my possession, that I have not seen or removed, let it be considered nullified.” We are not just speaking about clearing our physical homes but as we prepare for Passover, we must take time to clean our spiritual homes within our hearts. Passover gives us the energy to do a ‘spiritual cleanse’ as we purge ourselves of negative character traits.
Before the holiday begins, take a moment and consider which character traits are causing a disconnect with our children. Is it a short fuse that brings angry reactions instead of calm to our home? Are we impatient so that we seem indifferent and uncaring? Do we push our loved ones away by being negative and judgmental? Do we seem to put technology first by constantly checking iPhones and emails while our family is trying to speak with us?
Don’t allow this moment to pass. Set a clear goal to rid yourself of the trait that is preventing you from building the home you have always dreamed of. This will take commitment, hard work and dedication. Do not give up. Your children are waiting for you to raise them with love.
2. Do I create seder-order in my home?
Before we begin the Seder, we enumerate the 15 parts of the Seder in order to show how crucial it is for us to give thought to our actions and words. We should always live our days with meaning and perspective. We waste precious time and mess up relationships when we simply coast along and stop paying attention to those we love. This impacts our parenting. When we discipline without thinking, we say and do hurtful things. When we react emotionally, we lose control. Parenting with ‘seder-order’ means that we parent purposefully. Our homes are not filled with chaos, which causes confusion and insecurity. Daily routines and relationships built on respect bring stability. Children thrive when they feel safe. Knowing that parents are consistent, thoughtful about their parenting, and living in harmony provides the ‘seder’ that children need to succeed. Let us plan how to make this happen.
3. Am I tuned in to the emotional needs of my children?
As we begin to recite the story of our people, we lift up our Seder plate, uncover our matzahs and say, “This is the poor bread that our forefathers ate in the land of Egypt. Let all who are hungry come and eat. Let all who are needy come and celebrate.” One would think that it is a little late to begin inviting guests to our Seder table at this point. After all, we are seated and ready to begin. Where are we finding hungry and needy people now?
If we would open up our eyes and really see the children who are sitting around us, we would notice the hunger for love and a kind word that gnaws at their souls. It is not simply physical hunger that we are being asked to feed. We are being taught to recognize that parents have the responsibility to nourish a child’s desire to feel cared for. Some children require more hugs and kisses. They long for a loving touch that, as children grow, parents forget to give. Others yearn for a kind word, warm laughter, an encouraging smile. Days go by and we have given many directions and commands but a good word has hardly been said.
Seder night, look around your table. Give each child your blessing. Embrace your family with the compassion that they so badly need. We speak of the Four Sons. Understand that there are all types of children; each deserves a place in your heart.
4. Do I live my life in color?
Jews all over the world sing the melody of ‘Dayenu’. We describe the many incredible miracles that God has showered upon our nation and after each is enumerated, we say one word: Dayenu! – ‘This would have been enough!’ Here lies one of the most valuable life lessons we can ever hope to transmit to our children. If we could teach ourselves to see the many kindnesses that God has granted us from the moment we took our first breath in this world, we would be able to guide our children to be cognizant of the ‘blessing of enough’. Nothing is random; life should never be taken for granted. By breaking down each instant and then learning to say ‘thank You, God’, we come to live life in color instead of black and white.
Most of us think about what we are lacking. We easily complain or feel badly for ourselves. When we redirect our eyes to see the good, we take ourselves to a positive place. Our children learn how to appreciate the gifts that God has granted us. This is the road to joy. It begins with our appreciation for our lives.
This Passover, let us dedicate our Seders to these seven holy souls who left this world with a message to us all. Parents, think about the gift of life that we have been given. Every child is precious. As Gabriel Sassoon cried, “The souls of my children live on in my heart and my wife’s heart. But not just with us – in the heart of the entire nation…They are there.”

(End)