Pesach Day One 5785
Hashem has a pretty amazing sense of humor. As many of you know, because I can’t stop talking about it, I visited Guatemala a couple weeks ago. Wanting to get some peace and quiet away from my apartment on Flatbush Ave, with the constant angry car horns blaring and sirens swirling, I took a 5 hour plane ride, an hour and a half long cab, and a two and a half hour shuttle to find some quiet.
I was so excited. I saw my little cabin, with its view of the mountains and I knew my night would be full of much needed silence. Instead, my first night in my little cabin was full of the blood curdling screams of a rooster who’s song would inspire the next rooster, and then several other roosters. The roosters would set off the dogs, or the other way around, who sounded as if they were in my cabin, setting each other off in fits of barking–communicating dog to dog and rooster to rooster and maybe rooster to dog and dog to rooster, God knows what throughout the night.
The next morning, when saying my morning brachot, I wondered if the author of the rst bracha meant it passive aggressively,
אשר נָתן לשכוי בינָה להבחין בין יֹום ובין לֽילה Baruch…
Blessed are You, Adonoy our God, Ruler of the Universe, Who gives the rooster understanding to distinguish between day and night.
Like, hey, roosters, did you hear that one?
I heard two other, more Pesach themed animal stories, from my teacher in Jerusalem, Sarah Yehudit Schneider. The first happened to her, after spending days scrubbing, scouring, boiling, covering, and preparing for Pesach, she lit the candles and welcomed guests to her Seder table in her beautiful apartment in the Old City. A Seder guest came with her dog, who had been there a couple weeks earlier and apparently hid a giant stash of bread in the plant pot. When they all sat down for Seder, in walked the dog with a big chunk of bread in its mouth, looking so proud of himself.
Another story, which happened to her friend (also in the Old City) who similarly scrubbed, scoured, boiled, covered and prepared perfectly for Pesach. Before yomtov, she put a fan on a timer since it was supposed to be hot during the day. When the fan went on, soup nuts started flying out of the fan scattering through the entire house. Apparently one of her kids had dropped a bag in the fan, and when it turned on the bag ripped and out came chametz gamor, full and unquestionable chametz through the whole house.
"Der Mensch Tracht, Un Gott Lacht"
Man plans, and God laughs.
There’s nothing you can do in these moments but laugh, laugh at all the ways we prepared, all the seriousness that we poured into something – anything – because all is temporary. And in many ways, all is out of our control.
In many native traditions, there is a ceremonial role of the Trickster or Sacred Clown. This person’s role is to show people where they have gotten too hardened in their ideas or identities, shaking things up to make room for holiness and flexibility. In some cultures, this person would carry around a mirror, walking next to someone and with love, mock their self absorption. We have glimpses of this kind of sacred irreverence on Purim, but what would it be like to have someone embodying this all year long, someone to keep us loose and light enough to let holiness in, and someone who was revered for holding that role.
Chametz is leavened grain produce, but it also specifically refers to fermented grain—something that sits around and accumulates. While I am happy to give a drash about the miraculous and alchemical nature of fermentation, during this holiday we are asked to reassess our relationship with the stuff that sits around, the stuff that is stuck and accumulates. What patterns are we deeply attached to, what grudges are we holding like a cozy blanket, what suffering do we find just so delicious, or what change are we resisting? What is sitting within us fermenting that it may be time to let go of?
Perhaps through humor, through bringing some lightness to this Chametz, we can loosen it and allow it to shake itself out. And perhaps in this way we can let the days of Pesach, and the following days of the Omer which begin tonight, to be a journey of release and offering up to the Divine whatever is stuck within us.
Chag Sameach.
