First day of Pesach, March 30, 2010

Meyer Shwarzstein

In today’s Torah portion, we read that, when the Children of Israel left Egypt, a “mixed multitude when up with them[1].”  Given all the Seders I’ve been to, I can vouch for this.

When I was kid, the Seder was always at my Bobie and Zadie’s house. My Zadie led the Seder – he was Orthodox as is my father and his brother.  My Bobie was married before and had twin sons.  Yes -- the sons they numbered four.  I don’t know which one was which; I loved them all, but, as I think back, they were all wise guys.  None of them were simple, and I can assure you that all of them knew how to ask. 

Pesach can bring out some of the best and also some of the most challenging moments in families and in marriages.  Heavy labor followed by hours of cooking.  Then there’s the preparation of the Seder – lots to argue about here -- which food to eat, which food not to eat, what to read from the Haggadah, what not to read, who to invite, or who to beg an invite from – it’s the annual clash of traditions in 3D.   Then we sit down. 

If you host, you’re thinking; Are they bored?  Are they hungry?  Are they paying attention?  And that’s just the children.  Thankfully, there are four cups of wine.  Finally, Shulchan Orech, the meal, comes, which includes the annual discussion of politics – both kinds – national and the important kind – what’s really going on in the family.  Is it any wonder that we end the evening with a song about a stick beating a dog? 

If things went well, your marriage is still intact and you don’t have to worry about any of that again…for a whole day.

But what if there are issues?  Where do you look if you need marriage advice?  Where do we Jews go when we need any advice?  The Torah – surely the Torah is the guide for the married man.  Let’s take a look -

First, there’s Adam & Eve.

Eve gets a lot of flack for listening to a snake and convincing Adam that he should eat a forbidden fruit.  That makes sense to me; if you’re anything like me, you listen to everything your wife tells you to do.

Look, Adam would do anything for Eve.  Eve was physically a part of Adam – his gave his own ribs to her – well, he may have been asleep at the time – but when God got mad, he should’ve gone looking for Eve.  Nope, he called to poor Adam, “Where are you?”  Adam did what any good man would do.  He vamped.  “I heard the sound of You in the garden, and I was afraid because I am naked, so I hid.”[2]  Brilliant.  That’ll work with God who’s everywhere and sees everything.  God pressed Adam, and finally Adam did the next thing any man would do, he blamed his wife.  That didn’t go to well either…

Then there is Avram and Sarai.

God makes a covenant with Avram to give him a great inheritance – but Avram has no kids who can get that inheritance.  So, Sarai, Avram’s wife, says to him, “See now, God has restrained me from bearing; consort, now, with my maidservant, perhaps I will be built up through her.  And Abram heeded the voice of Sarai.”[3]  Are you kidding?  What was he thinking?  Did he really think that was going to turn out well?

Then there was Lot and his wife. 

Lot warned his daughters not to look back at Sodom and Gomorrah while they were being destroyed – it’s not clear if he told his wife – but he did what needed to be done - he got out of there as fast as he could.  She turned around – WHAM! – salt.  He either had a lot of self-control or he was far ahead – cause, if he’d turned around to see what happened, he would’ve turned into salt too, wouldn’t he?  So, what does Lot do when he realizes his wife’s gone?  He finds himself a cave and gets drunk.  And if you know the rest of that story, it isn’t pretty.

When I started studying for this drash, I noticed there are interesting stories about four fathers-in-laws.

First, the wicked one.  Jacob worked for 7 years for his first wife[4], 7 years for his second wife and another 6 years for his and his family’s freedom.  And, after all that, Laban, his father-in-law chased him down and complained.

The next father-in-law didn’t know how to ask.  Judah was married and had 3 sons.  Judah’s first son married Tamar.  When the first son died, Judah insisted that his second son enter into a levirate marriage with Tamar.  Then the second son died.  Judah knew that he should ask his third son to marry Tamar – but he was kind of afraid that, if he did, his 3^rd son would die too, so he tells Tamar to wait awhile.  She waits and waits.  Then Judah’s wife dies, and Tamar has an idea.  She poses as a harlot near the road.  Judah sleeps with her, later learns who she is, and she convinces him to marry her.  As was true for me, Judah was clueless – but Tamar knew what was best.

The third father-in-law is the simple one. Potiphar’s wife tries to seduce Joseph.  He refuses and is sent to prison[5]. Later, Pharaoh appreciates Joseph’s advice and gives him a wife.  Who does he pick?  Asenath, Potiphar’s daughter.  What were those family dinners like?

Finally, there’s the wise one. The minister of Midian has 7 daughters – an Egyptian draws water for them, and waters the sheep.  The minister summons the kind man, and offers him his daughter[6].  The Egyptian was Moses, and his father-in-law, Jethro, became one of his great advisors.

So, is the Torah devoid of romance?  Not at all.  Jacob worked to win the woman he loved for 14 years.  Look at Isaac and Rebecca.  When Rebecca first “raised her eyes and saw Isaac, she stopped and inclined while on her camel.”[7]  I imagine a 1940’s movie star…the camera close.  “And she said to the servant, ‘Who is that man walking in the field toward us?’”  It was love at first sight.  Imagine the slow motion movement as each of them fills the frame?  Isaac married her and loved her.  It’s also when he stopped grieving for his mother.

Some of the most beautiful language in the Torah is used to describe the relationship between the Children of Israel and God. 

Rabbi Simcha Bunim Bonhart of Peshischa (1765-1827), a businessman and a pharmacist, was also one of the main leaders of Hasidic Judaism in Poland.  He stated, "Pesach is like the first meeting between the bride, Am Yisrael, and the groom, God, and Shavuot is the wedding.

In Ezekiel[8], it reads, “v’eh-evor”, “and I passed by you and saw you downtrodden with your blood, and I said to you, with your blood, live” – this is understood to refer to the blood of the Passover offering.  It later reads[9], “I passed by you and saw you, and behold your time was a time of love, and I spread My skirt over you and I covered your nakedness, and I swore to you and came into a covenant with you, says the Lord, and you were Mine.”

An Artscroll translation of Shir HaShirim, which we read on the Shabbat that occurs during Pesach, adapts the phrasing to read as a relationship between God and the Children of Israel.  “When He redeemed me from Egypt, my Beloved called out and said to me, ‘Arise my love, My Fair one, and go forth.  For the winter of bondage has passed, the deluge of suffering is over and gone.  The righteous blossoms are seen in the land, the time of your song has arrived and the voice of your guide is heard in the land.  The fig tree has formed its first small figs, ready for ascent to the Temple.  The vines are in blossom, their fragrance declaring they are ready for libation.  Arise, My love, My fair one, and go forth!”[10]

We also know that the first commandment God gave to Moshe to give to the Children of Israel was given when we were leaving Egypt – the mitzvah naming the month of the Exodus the first of all months[11] This was the beginning of a relationship with a community, not just a singular person – and the first thing God did was mark the anniversary of that moment.

So, Pesach is the anniversary of our relationship with God.  That’s probably why it’s mentioned repeatedly in our texts.  Immediately after the commandment regarding the months, the next commandments have to do with Pesach; and celebrating it for our generations.

Yes, our relationship with God had its bumps.  If you think of Mt. Sinai as the place of our wedding – we were busy there with a golden calf.  All relationships are complicated – and the Torah does teach that to us.

Though their young love was beautiful, Isaac and Rebecca’s kids started fighting while in the womb.  And when their son Jacob goes off to get a wife – he disappears for 20 years.  How must that have been for those parents?

We can also read the earlier stories differently.  Sarai was clearly very caring and sympathetic to Avram.  Adam didn’t act perfectly – but both people were imperfect.  And we certainly feel for them – eventually, one of their sons kills the other one.

Certainly, the Torah could’ve given us idyllic views of relationships, but then our lives would never measure up.  It wouldn’t be relatable – our forefathers and foremothers had complicated lives in families that didn’t always get along.  Their Seder tables would have been a lot like ours – filled with divorced couples, family members who don’t get along – and others that just don’t show up.  But we can look at their lives and learn some lessons.  Adam could’ve taken the blame.  And, while Sarai probably meant to help Avram by having him consort this Hagar, he could’ve taken a moment and said “no.”  Of course, Lot could’ve held his wife’s hand – and saved her and, in the end, himself, from disaster.

As a group, we are a partner for God, and as individuals, we must each be welcomed to a table together – so we are not alone – that’s when things are in order – Seder – no matter what baggage we each bring.

In today’s Haftorah, it says that, on the first Pesach in the land of Israel, “they ate of the produce of the country, unleavened bread and parched grain.  On that same day, when they ate of the produce of the land, the manna ceased.”[12]  The journey was over, they were home.  May everyone get the chance to have that feeling of being home.

Before I close, I’d like to take one more look at Shir HaShirim -- the Song of Songs.  There is a beautiful phrase, “I am a rose of Sharon, Shoshanat HaAmakim, a rose of the valleys.  C’Shoshanah – like a rose – among the thorns, so is my beloved among the daughters.”

My wife’s name is Susan, Shoshana.  Like Judah, I was clueless when I met her.  She has the patience of Rachel the warmth of Rebecca and the kindness and laughter of Sarah.  She accepts me with all of my imperfections, and the mixed multitude of madness that is me.  I know I’m fortunate – and grateful.

Chag sameach