Delivered on Pesach day 8 5782 (22 April 2022) at Temple Beth Israel (Eugene, OR)
Shabbat shalom!
I’m grateful to be here with you all tonight, on this the eighth night of Pesach. I’ve been reflecting on where we go from here, as we venture forward from this time of remembering our affliction in Egypt. Last week I was speaking to a mentor of mine when the topic of love and caring for others came up. I was reminded of how transformative love can be, especially when expressed in small and unexpected ways. There is a song about love that I’ve listened to a lot lately, it just came out in March and it’s called “A little bit of love” by the band Weezer. It opens like this:
“A little bit of love, Goes a pretty long way,
Take a look at where you started from, And where you are today,
You climbed mountains, swam oceans,
You got knocked down and kept going,
In the end, you know you've got to say, A little bit of love goes a pretty long way”
This past week I’ve reflected on love in the exodus story and throughout Pesach. The love of Hashem for us and our ancestors. God’s love for Moses, Aaron, and Miriam. The love those siblings had for each other. Moses’ love for Hashem and the Israelites – this people that he was one of, but that he didn’t really know. I’ve thought about the love we shared at our seder tables, welcoming family, friends, guests, and strangers as we retell the story of our journey towards freedom, and as we nourish one another.
I appreciated these lines from the Haggadah that we used at the first night seder I attended. “All who are hungry, let them come and eat. All who are in need, let them come and celebrate Pesach with us. This year we eat as strangers, in a land not truly ours. By next year may we live in a land made whole and free.” We read some version of these words each year, and I don’t think they are merely metaphorical. As we go out from Pesach, I would like to suggest that each of us can help make those words a reality, and that one way towards actualizing them is through love.
In the Torah portion that we read on the eighth day of Pesach, we are taught about a variety of things including the giving of tithes, making loans and the remission of debts, Pesach, the counting of the Omer, Shavuot, and Sukkot. All of these acts and celebrations center, in one way or another, around love. We give tithes because of love and respect we have for Hashem and what They have provided us. We make loans and forgive debts in the interest of caring for the needy among us. And Pesach, the counting of the Omer, Shavuot, and Sukkot, biblically as well as contemporarily are times of remembering that lead to empathy, gladness, and rejoicing for the love that has been shown to us, and that we are able to show to others.
We don’t just celebrate the love that has been shown to us as individuals, but also as a community and beyond. Torah tells us that we are not only to show love with our families, but also the stranger, the widow, and the orphan among us. Deuteronomy Chapter 16 verses 11 and 12 read:
(11) You shall rejoice before your God יהוה with your [children], your [servants], the [family of the] Levite in your communities, and the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow in your midst, at the place where your God יהוה will choose to establish the divine name. (12) Bear in mind that you were slaves in Egypt, and take care to obey these laws.
As we remember our time in Egypt and the variety of opportunities and blessings that come with freedom, we would be remis to ignore those who are still in Egypt. Just as we were loved out of Egypt, so too can we love others along their journeys.
Adina Koch notes, “When we return to the story of Pesach year after year, we return to a reminder of from where we have come. Our parents wandered. Our ancestor searched for a place to call home; out of which we emerged as a nation and a community. As Jews, we are blessed with a tradition that teaches us to stretch what it means to be family and on all days of the year to welcome the orphan, the widow, and the stranger.”
Extending love isn’t a theoretical or hypothetical exercise, and it isn’t reserved for a select few. The Talmud teaches that in every single generation, we are obligated to look upon ourselves as if we had personally gone forth out of Egypt, and having gone through that struggle we are to help others in theirs. Our tradition is speaking directly to each and every one of us. Certainly, each week, likely each day, we are presented with opportunities to show love to others. Simple gestures of acknowledging the humanity in someone else through a smile, “hello”, or eye contact can go a long way. This may sound overly simplistic; it’s not. I'd like to share two experiences, one from Torah and one from my own life that illustrate this. When Moses and Aaron first spoke to the Israelites in Egypt, and performed marvelous signs for them, Torah tells us that it wasn’t those marvelous signs that touched their hearts, but rather them hearing that Hashem was thinking about them, was aware of their suffering. This acknowledgement, this seemingly small expression of love, helped restore our ancestors sense of self-worth, and empowered them to seek freedom. As for myself, my first time visiting Temple Beth Israel was on Erev Rosh Hashanah a few years ago. Coming from an area with a tiny Jewish community, I was overwhelmed by the high holiday crowd. There was a sea of faces and I knew none of them. So I found a seat at the end of a row towards the section just outside the sanctuary and waited for services to start. Not too long later Julee Raiskin, who I knew as a professor from when I was in undergrad walked by. She spotted me, stopped, said hello, gave me a hug, and continued on. It was a small gesture, but it made me feel so at home, and it's what brought be back the next time.
See the people around you. Tell those you love that you love them. We have the opportunity to express gratitude to those whose work blesses us, in big or small ways. Let others know when you’ve been thinking about them. We might be more comfortable waiting for others to acknowledge us first, but that is not what we are asked to do. It’s easy to forget that we can extend love first.
Rabbi David Wolpe writes, “Passover reminds us that at the heart of Judaism is the deep yearning of God and human beings for one another. Passover celebrates love. It is not the love of candy and cards, but a love where souls are obligated and ennobled. It is love deep, passionate, purposeful and true.”
As we go out from this time of remembrance, may we keep hold of the love that has been shown to us and in turn do what we can to share that love with others. Not by grand gestures, though they do have their place, but by small and simple acts, human to human, heart to heart. Let us remember that a little bit of love goes a pretty long way.