I'm more the type of gal who is interested in the fact that Passover is on the first full moon after Equinox than I am in traditional Judaism. As with Easter, which was originally held on the first Sunday after the first full moon after Equinox (but became subject to a more complex formula for determination of the date over time), I am drawn to the Earth-based, rhythmic underpinnings of religious holidays, which serve to connect us to our innate spiritual nature.
That being said, growing up Jewish (and certainly appreciating many aspects of Jewish spirituality), it is impossible to not enjoy my fond childhood memories of the traditional Passover ritual meal, the Seder.
The week-long holiday often is celebrated by American Jews with Seders on the first night, and possibly the second. Extended family or friends customarily gather, just as non-Jews do for Easter.
While first night was, for me, a fun affair as a child (with us giggling cousins being our usual kid-like selves to endure the semi-serious process), it was probably not unlike many American Seders based in European roots (known as Ashkenazic Judaism) and the common more liberal Reform-style Judaism that most of my friends and family practiced.
Second night, though, was another experience altogether. My very strict, Orthodox uncle, hailing from Persia, practiced the—to me—exotic Sephardic style of Judaism, which is the type that those from Persia (& other Iberian Peninsula areas) practice. Though there was a solemnness to his approach, it was mysterious enough to keep me eager with anticipation every year, when my sister and I would go with my parents and meet up with our two same-aged cousins and their folks.
I was always enthralled, captivated. Not to mention anticipating the meal that came late into the evening, after the first half of the Seder rituals happened. Sure, first night with chicken and matzoh ball soup was a big treat. But… Persian food!! Oh my god.
I wrote this poem years back when I was writing poetry in college.
Uncle Hoff
When it was still Persia
You and grandpa left
Made a new life here
Kept your religion
Never touching lamps
After dark on Sabbath or holidays
We four cousins
in awe of you
And you of The Lord.
Years later
We burn with memories
Of all that you gave us
It has not been the same
Since you left us for your God
I love it, Elizabeth. And I wish I was spending Seder with you and Nick sometime. Becky is away this year and so Fred and I make do.
ReplyDeleteYou've so wonderfully captured the role of exotic family members and how much we appreciate them. I think it's also so with teachers we've ha who stand out in our memories. Bringing us something of themselves that's odd, unusual and somewhat mysterious.
Love, Deb
Dear Elizabeth,
ReplyDeleteI have read your essay on your remembrances of Passover and enjoyed it thoroughly. It brought back a few memories for me, though my family was even less observant than yours, I'd say.
Who were the other two cousins you refer to? Were you writing about grandfather Paul Nathan? I have a few hazy memories of him and of my aunt, your grandma, Lillian. She was a good and kind woman with a wonderful smile. She was raised by Joseph and Esther Kroll, but they were not her natural parents, as I understand it. I don't know who her parents were or why they didn't raise her, but they must've been nice people as well.
My memories of Passovers are not fond ones, really. I didn't like the food, particularly. The readings from the Haggadah were boring to me, as a child. My father was raised to run from his Jewish roots because he was persecuted, as were his folks, for being Jewish. That rubbed off on me because I experienced minor slights as child from gentiles who seemed to have a radar for picking out Jewish kids.
As I grew older, i.e. in my teens, I searched for my own spiritual guides and lessons and they turned out not to be Jewish ones. Even as I got older and occasionally attended schul, I never really appreciated what you had to believe to call yourself Jewish in the religious sense ...to me being Jewish simply means being part of a nationality that has suffered exquisitly over the centuries because of the inhumanity of religion and the ignorance and bias of humans. Because none of this has changed, and because Israel is so entrenched in its position vis-a-vis the Palestinians, I suspect we can expect to see more anti-semitism in the future.
This is not to pour cold water on your blog or your experience, but just to tell you I appreciated your thoughts, mulled them carefully and thoroughly, love and miss you, and for whatever it may mean, hope you had a good passover.
much love,
Bob