Voices of WRJ: Pesach

by Lynne Turry The Torah portion for this week is from Exodus 12:37-42. We all know the story well, how the Israelites fled from Egypt and traveled from Rameses to Succoth with around 600,000 men on foot. Though the scholars do not know the exact location of theses cities, they can use other details of the journey and speculate their symbolism, in order to commemorate the tale. If one assumes that the men did not travel alone but with a wife and family, the numbers may have been as high as nearly three million people. The Israelites were forced out with few provisions after having lived in Egypt for 430 years, though this number, as large as it is, may simply be an approximation. And as the story continues, the Israelites, with time of the essence, baked unleavened bread because the dough taken from Egypt didn’t have time to rise. In Exodus 13:3-10 Moses speaks to the people and tells them to remember this day when they fled from Egypt, out of the house of bondage, and that no leavened bread shall be eaten or surround the people. By recounting the Exodus and the prior instructions for matzah, the story was then carried forth to future generations and instructions given for a festival for seven days. During Passover, we also read certain verses from the Song of Songs, believed to have been written by King Solomon, to symbolize the loving covenant between the Jewish people and God. It is undeniable that the song celebrates not only human love, but also the sensuous and mystical quality of erotic desire. In modern Judaism, the Song is read on the Sabbath during Passover. This marks the beginning of the grain harvest as well as commemorates the Exodus from Egypt. According to Rabbi Edward Bernstein, “The love poetry is bursting with pastoral images of pomegranate orchards, herds of goats, lilies, and roses. The images evoke spring and are perfect for this season of rebirth.” As I reflected upon these stories, but most especially of the Exodus, I recalled so many vivid memories of my childhood that symbolically relate to the story. As a child of New York parents who continuously moved throughout the early years of my life, I believe they instilled in me and my siblings a feeling of adventure with each change. Each move meant a better life, a world where together we would find a home, where we would embrace life to its fullest. So from Richmond, to Cincinnati, to Chicago where I lived in four different homes, the most stabilizing factor in my life was my family. As I think about the Israelites, I wonder if the children didn’t feel the same way? Because we rarely lived near relatives, my parents created a life centered around home and synagogue. Though both my parents worked, rare for those times, cooking for Shabbat and the Jewish holidays was of the utmost importance. If we were fortunate enough to have aunts and uncles and cousins visit us, these became even more joyous occasions. But if it was just the five of us, or possibly family friends, each holiday was special. I will never forget the aroma of gefilte fish and chicken soup being prepared by my mother and father together. My father loved to cook and no holiday was complete without Irving’s gefilte fish or brisket and Dorothy’s matzah balls. In preparation for the holiday, all chametz was removed from the house, the china was placed on the table, and the crystal glasses were set for both adults and children. As we sat together around the table inherited from my grandparents retelling the story of the exodus from Egypt, we sang, we ate and we flourished in our home. We were together, a family secure in the safety of a world where we, unlike the Israelites were allowed to pray and celebrate our heritage. Today I hope to bring those cherished memories to my own grandchildren as we, too, recline around the same table that is almost 100 years old. These moments have always brought joy to my heart and have instilled in me a belief that I can bring these same feelings to my sisterhood at Temple Chai, and to my WRJ world. I have celebrated at many women’s Seders and watched as children were reticent to stand and join in the Miriam song and dance around the room carrying their timbrels. It soon became my fate to gather them up and follow me as we sang and danced together. The impact we as women can have during this celebration is so significant. Without Miriam, or the women following and supporting the men during the journey out of Egypt, life may have been significantly different. The realization that I as a woman have traveled my own path and hopefully made a difference in the world empowers me significantly. As I now prepare for my Passover celebration, I hope to create the “aroma and flavor” of my own Seder and the pride of my heritage within my home. As a woman, a mother, grandmother, sister, and aunt I will always cherish the glorious history of Judaism and that of my wonderful parents. Lynne Turry is WRJ Midwest District President.