The WHY of this year's Passover - with Rachel Goldberg-Polin

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Learn more at JCFNY.org. That's JCFNY.org. You are listening to an Art Media podcast. For Jewish children, you ferment these memories from a young age of being a satyr and one of the things that we do at the satyr is we say, "For each of the ten plagues that affected our enemies, these people who did these terrible things to us, we take a drop of wine out of our wine, out of our happiness, out of our celebratory drink, and for each of the ten plagues, we take out a drip of the wine, either with our pinky or with a spoon. Because we don't want to celebrate the suffering, even of people who caused us tremendous suffering. We are teaching our children this is who we are. Even when it's painful and horrible, we are going to be human. It's 8 a.m. on Wednesday, March 26th here in New York City. It is 2 p.m. on Wednesday, March 26th in Israel. As Israelis try to do three things, continue to navigate this time of war and also going in and out of bomb shelters and prepare for the coming paths over holiday Pesach, which is in just a few days, the first satyr, and in anticipation of the holiday coming in, we wanted to catch up with our friend of the pod, Rachel Goldberg-Poland, who joins us from Jerusalem, with whom we often study during the holidays, during the Chageeam. Rachel, thanks for being here. Thanks for having me. First of all, before we jump into things, Rachel, whenever we study around these holidays, we have a big question that we want to answer, which we're going to get to. One of the questions we want to answer is, how do we think about Pesach this year? Are many of us struggling with how to navigate, celebrate, honor, comply with the Pesach holiday during this period, which has a lot of good news and still has a lot of uncomfortable painful context? Before we do that, we always start by acknowledging those who were studying in the maritove, almost like in the honor of. I turn that to you to share with us your thinking on who we should be studying, who should be top of mind as we study today. For me, it's very clear that since October 7, 2023, we have lost so many precious dear, beloved people. There is a space in our tradition that we study in the marit of those who we've lost, that their souls should go up even higher in response to our studying and learning. But I'm also very aware that since October 7, 2023, there are also many people who are here in this world who are broken and suffering and in pain, thousands and thousands of people by extension who are related to families either of people who have passed, who have died, or people who have been injured, grievously injured, either physically or mentally, spiritually, psychologically. And so in the marit of them healing and recovering, I'd like to focus our energy on them as well. Okay. So before we jump into things, I do want to pose a conundrum to you, which is we have studied together and released these episodes over the course of many holidays. We did one for Shavot, we did one for the Chagin, for Versa Shana and Yom Kippur, we did one for Hanukkah, we did one for Porum, we were doing this. But the first one we did was one year ago, which was we did an episode on Pesach. And here we are, this is the first time you and I are studying the same holiday for a second time. Now the easy thing to do would be to have just re-released the episode from last year. Why are we having a whole new episode and having a whole new discussion about something we discussed last year? We could wind up hitting many of the same topics and the same questions and the same themes. And you know, a lot AK Pat has always given me a hard time because he thinks I'm generally in my commentary analysis very repetitive. And so if I say something in a later episode, he'll say you made that point three episodes ago, it's beginning repetitive, you're overdoing it. But that's exactly, we're going to hit a lot of the stuff we hit last year. Aren't we? So why don't we just re-release last year's episode? First of all, there's a huge part of our tradition. We like to go back to the same thing and it's not the same thing anymore. And as the famous Heraclitus paradox of you can't step into the same river twice really rings true and is integral to our tradition, meaning the river is constantly moving, right? So you might be in the exact same spot on the river bank. But when you step in, it's different water. And you are actually a different person than you were when you were at that river last week, two months ago, eight months ago, a year ago, ten years ago. We don't step into the same river twice. So I would say that this Passover is not the same as last Passover. In fact, I would also say we have this tradition where we read a different portion of the Torah every Shabbat. Now what that means, I was thinking about this on the way here today is this Shabbat, it is Parashat Sav, which is in the book of Vayikran, the book of Leviticus. And if you're 73 years old and you've been going to synagogue, you've been going to shul since you're around 12 or 13 years old, it means that you've actually heard this portion of Sav 60 times, 6-0. And I'm telling you that every single year it's a different parasha, it's a different portion. And every year when you learn about Passover or Purim or Shabbat, it's different because we're different. And so where we were a year ago is so incredibly cosmically different than where we are today. And I think we'll gain some new insights. And I also think the reality is that life is complex and people are busy. And maybe we all need a refresher course and maybe there are things that we will touch on and we'll say, "Oh right, I remember that." And yet that's not bad. That's actually really beautiful. So I'm hoping that today we have new insights and that people also remember things from last year and can build on those things. So set the table here, no pun intended, it's not the satire table. Set the historical table here. Where are we? Where are the Jewish people? What is going on when this story gets going in full swing? Okay, so luckily this happens almost quickly relative to some of the holidays when we have to give a lot of historical context. There are five books of the Torah, the five books of Moses, and the very beginning of the first book of Braysheet of Genesis starts with God saying, "Let there be light and there's light and then time passes and we have Adam and Eve and the unfortunate fruit incident and we have ten generations and then there is Noah and the flood that destroys the world and the rainbow and then we have more time that passes, ten more generations and we have Abraham who was the first Jew, who begets Isaac, who begets Jacob, who begets twelve sons. One of them is Joseph, the one with the pretty coat. And he ends up in Egypt because his brothers have a lot of sibling rivalry. At first in Egypt things are terrible for him. Then things get wonderful for him. Eventually the whole family comes down to join him because there's a famine in the land of Canaan. So everybody ends up in Egypt together. This is already the beginning of the book of Shmote, the book of Exodus, which people can start to read. It's very readable if you Google it. And we end up enslaved. And the question is there's a debate of how many hundreds of years are we enslaved? But it's either 430 years or it's 210 years, it doesn't really matter either way, it's awful. And our story begins with God deciding now is the time to take these people out of their misery and their enslavement. And he speaks to Moses at the burning bush and says, you're gonna go and talk to Pharaoh and we're gonna get the people out. - And it's roughly just time, like 13th to 15th century BCE, this is when it's all happening? - Yes. And what happens on the calendar is that the night that we go out of Egypt, after most people know about, you know, their 10th plagues, there's a lot of back and forth and negotiating between Moses and his brother Aaron with Pharaoh trying to negotiate to get the people out and we go through 10 plagues. And finally, it is on the night of the Hebrew calendar of Nissan, the 15th of Nissan that we leave and we go out into the desert and then we wander for 40 years. And what used to happen traditionally, when we had the ancient temple, you know, we had temple and then it was destroyed by Nimbu Hadnets there and then we built the temple again and the second temple was destroyed by the Romans in 70 of the common era. From that time, we had this pickle of how do you acknowledge and remember and commemorate this really definitive date in our Jewish calendar, which is we became a nation. We became a nation that night. Before that night going out, we were just a group of slaves, a tribal group of slaves. We became a nation when we left Egypt. And so how do we acknowledge this date in the absence of the temple, the rabbis and the Mishniac times, which is sometime around the year 70 BCE to 200 of the common era, they come up with an idea of how we're going to acknowledge that evening that was such a critical moment in Jewish history and that's when they give us the idea for a sater, for a special gathering that's gonna happen and they compile texts and ideas and that's where we get this from. Most Jews know these things about Judaism, right? They know about Apples and Honey and Rosasana. They know about fasting on Yom Kippur. They know about Hanukkah and lighting the menorah and most Jews in the diaspora know about giving gifts on Hanukkah. I mean, I could count on one hand the number of rituals and holidays that most Jews know something about. And obviously the one I think that is the top of the list is Passover. They know Passover is this thing, it's this sater. We sit around, there's something about Mutsa. There's something about the quote unquote Feast of Freedom which we'll get into and the complexity of that theme. But I just want you to walk through like the story behind why we have this sater, this convening, if you will, once a year. Can you just walk through some of the rituals involved, some of the traditions? Like what do we do on this night? If you were trying to describe to someone who's not that familiar with Passover, you're gonna come to a Passover sater, you're gonna sit down and don't think you're coming to a dinner party because A, it's more of a discussion than a party and B, you're not gonna need dinner until very late. - Right, definitely have snacked beforehand. - Snack before. - Because nibbling on the little parsley you get along the way is not gonna say "shate you." Okay, so tell us about some of the things we do on the night of the sater. - Well, the first thing that I want to make very clear is that the Mitzvah of having a sater is a Mitzvah that we only get once a year an opportunity to do at the sater. What I mean by that is that, first of all, we have Mitzvot, we have opportunities to perform Mitzvot daily, certain ones, right? Like we could give Tzedaka every day. We could honor our parents every day. We can bless food before we eat it every day. We have Mitzvot that we do once a week, like the Mitzvah of observing Shabbat, of keeping Shabbat, or we have the Mitzvah of acknowledging and observing when there's a new month. But we have a Mitzvah once a year that we find in the book of Shmoat, in that book of Exodus, in chapter 13 verse 8, that says, "You are going to tell your son, your children, on this day, what God did for you. You have to do it on that day." And that day is the 15th of Nissan. And so that's very important to just acknowledge that. Now, in the diaspora, in communities outside of Israel, we have two saters. We have one on the 15th and one on the 16th, because that we could do in another episode, explaining the solar lunar calendar complexities of Judaism. It's just another reason why you might want to consider making Alia. Right. I was about to say that's the number one among the number, the strongest arguments for making Alia as one satar. But okay. By the way, I just want to say that I did look it up, and actually the Mission Eye Times technically start 30 BCE. Oh, okay. And run through 200 CE. But the most important thing that can happen in this satar is the telling, the discussion. And when the rabbis of the Mission Eye, who by the way were called Tanahim, which means the repeaters, which is very interesting, because the Mission Eye is the oral law that used to be repeated and given over only through repetition orally. But then was written down, edited, redacted by Judah the Prince, Rabbi Yehuda Hanasi, around the year 200, when everyone was sort of like the community was scattering and we were concerned, oh my gosh, we're going to lose a lot of this precious material because the repeaters are being scattered. And that's when this idea of we will co-ulate all of these ideas and make a compilation of texts. And that is the Haggadah. In Hebrew, the Haggid means to tell. So the Haggadah is the core source and guide. It's the telling book. Haggadah, and you're the root word, is lehagid, which is, as you said, in English, the translation is tutel. So the whole core of this ritual of this evening is we're going to talk. Yeah. We're going to talk through this story. And it's supposed to be this very dramatic, interactive, vibrant discussion based sort of on the traditional dynamic of the parent and child, but it really should be this informative discussion, chock full of questions and answers. And I actually think the most successful saters are the saters where there are more questions at the end than there are answers. And that's something very beautiful that we're not afraid of and we don't shy away from is the asking of questions. To the point where the mission of very much is aware that not everyone knows what to ask or not everyone is comfortable asking and not everyone knows even how to ask. And so you have the Manish Tanah moment, the moment where the children at the table or the youngest person at the table asks these four questions, which are from over 2,000 years ago. But just for the exact translation, the Manishana is a early in the satir. It's, as you said, it's a series of questions. It's four questions. And the question being asked by the youngest person at the satir table is, why is this night different from all other nights? Why do we do one thing on all other nights and we do this on this night? Yes. And we also get what I think is really sweet is we get sample responses to these type of children or adults. We say there are four sons. I mean, now, you know, with our modern sensibilities, we say there are four children or there are four types of people. What are the types of people? They're curious people. There are devil's advocate type of people. There's the simple humble type of person. And sometimes there's a person who just doesn't feel comfortable saying anything. And so we give sample responses to the four questions. But again, they're just samples. They're just to get the ball rolling. You know, like when people go speed dating and they say like you're supposed to say, so what are your hobbies? You don't have to say that. But sometimes that gets the conversation flowing. There are other rituals that don't deal directly with what happens at the satire table, although it includes what happens at the satire table, which among them is you don't eat bread or any bread-related products for eight days. Can you just spend a moment on that in the role of Mutsa? So there's a specific prohibition in the Torah when describing this holiday that says you will not eat hummates. And hummates is a category of grains that when mixed or encountered with any type of moisture or water and 18 minutes past, they start to fluff up or ferment. That is rendered hummates. And for multiple different reasons, we try to extrapolate. Why are we told not to eat hummates? We don't know for sure, right? But that we have a tradition that expands in very beautiful ways of why we are not supposed to eat hummates on this holiday. This holiday is really focused. Like the meta themes are themes of freedom, of leaving slavery, of leaving our narrowness. Remember that the word for Egypt in Hebrew is Mutsa'im, which means narrowness, but its Mutsa'r means narrow. And anything I'm is double. So it's double narrowness. How do we leave our double narrowness? And someone who writes beautifully about this question of why are we obsessed with not having fluffy puffy food of hummates during this period is rev cook. who was the first chief rabbi of Israel, who talks about what gets in the way of us being our most genuine self are the things that puff us up, which is our egos. And when we pair down our ego, which is incredibly challenging, both as individual people and as a nation, how do we call ourselves down and go back to the essence of who we're supposed to be, then we can really attain true freedom. And so a lot of people liken the satire to really it's a 15-step program, like the 12-step program. How do you get yourself free? I've taken amazing classes over the years. If you get into like spiritual mysticism, kabbalistic angles of Passover for the full week of Passover or even just the satire, it's really beautiful. It's a beautiful dimension to question. You know, what I think of when I think of Passover as a whole or the satire, as a whole, I think where is the me and where is the we? Because there is work that each of us has to do. And then there's work each of us as a collective have to be thinking about, but we could talk about that more in a little bit. But there's also all these rituals even before the Passover satire, like the intense, almost like obsessive cleansing that goes on. It's not just you don't eat bread. I mean, I know you do this because you've told me in previous years that the lengths you go do to literally burn bread, burn bread in your home before Passover or look for bread and clean it out. And there's all these obsessive, some could argue obsessive symbolic acts. What is that? Well, I think it's just following the traditional Jewish law that says, you can't have chamez. Chamez is a symbol of something in ourselves that we're trying to work on. And so in advance of the holiday where you're prohibited, you're told you cannot have any chamez. You can't even own any chamez. A lot of people, I actually don't go bananas. I will say there are people who go real bananas and they take it as an opportunity to do spring cleaning. And I don't have any problems with that. I just personally don't do that. I certainly don't do that since October 7th, because I'm just too broken. But and what you're referring to is that there is a mitzvah for the night before Passover. You go and do a search of any chamez that is left in your house and you put it aside. And the next morning, you make a blessing and we don't burn it in our house because then we still have the chamez. But you go outside of your house and the chamez should be burned so that it doesn't exist anymore. And you make a declaration that anything else that is left is not mine. I've tried. I've done, you know, the best I can. But you know, there's something that also I wanted to mention because I think it touches on this who we really are question, which is at the very beginning of the section of the satire when we start the storytelling, which that section is called mageed. We actually make this huge declaration where we say, anyone who is hungry come and eat anyone who is needy come and be with us. And there's this question of why the redundancy why say anyone who's hungry anyone who's needy. And I love that the explanation for that is that sometimes the most needy person that you know is the most materially or monetarily wealthy person you know. It has nothing to do with being needy and that the converse is true as well, right? The most spiritually evolved among us could be suffering from the most severe hunger, poverty. So I love that before we can even start the process of our satire is we have to acknowledge that there are people who should be at our table with us either because they actually need a meal or because they actually need to be fulfilled. Like there is something missing from their soul and it's a beautiful way to start the satire. I want to highlight an extraordinary example of Israeli resilience. At Hadassah hospitals in Jerusalem, there are fully operational facilities built deep underground designed so that even during war, life-saving medical care never stops. Entire departments have moved below ground, operating rooms, intensive care units, maternity wards. Doctors and nurses are urgently treating patients, even while rockets are flying and sirens are blaring. Hadassah, the women's Zionist organization of America built these hospitals and is now working to rapidly expand these underground areas. There's a critical need to equip a new underground emergency zone with 40 additional beds as well as to build and outfit six advanced operating rooms, ensuring surgical care under extreme threats. Please go to Hadassah.org to make a gift that helps Hadassah continue its long-standing life-changing support for the people of Israel. Visit hadasah.org. I want to get into something that is complicated but it's I think there's a tendency that the Passover Seder and the holiday has been so visceral the last couple of years since October 7th because we were talking about enslavement, literal Jewish enslavement happening in our lifetime. While we were celebrating, honoring this holiday. And now there's not. And I know you say that the idea of slavery is an enslavement is a metaphor for a lot of things, a lot of forms of struggle. But the last couple of years we almost didn't have to focus on the metaphor because it was real life. Yes. It was happening. And now it's not. Meaning again, the metaphor struggle is happening for a lot of people in all different ways that they can. Everyone can define as you said personally and collectively. But the visceral Jewish captives, that visceral part is when we met last year they were to study for Paisach. They were 59, the Hossages still in Gaza. All right. Now there are none. And I do think there will be a tendency at many Seder tables for people to say this is our first post-October 7th Paisach in which quote unquote the slaves are free. The Hossages are free. And yet at the Seder table, which was planned by the way long before the last couple of years, there are these symbols and rituals that tap into some kind of pain and sadness. And I want to spend a moment talking about those because it's almost like Rachel, the holiday and the Haggadah, everything we're discussing here, who the way it was they almost anticipated that even when times are good and you feel like you're out of the darkness, they're still darkness. Can you reconcile all of that for me and tapping into the rituals that represent what I'm talking about here? Well, I love that you're bringing it up. And obviously for me, it's ever-present. And I really am grateful that the rabbis had such insight and wisdom to understand that sadness is woven into the fabric of the Seder for a reason. And it's because sadness is woven into the human enterprise naturally. It's integral. And therefore, I can mention a few of the examples of what you're referring to in the very beginning of the Seder. One of the things that we do is we take a vegetable of some sort, often it's parsley, and we dip it into salt water. And why the salt water reminds us not only of the sweat of slavery, but of the tears of slavery and the pain of being somewhere where you don't want to be. And that we actually, I love the eating of these symbols. I think it's so amazing that we're not just saying, let's talk about the sadness, but we're actually integrating it into our bodies. And of course, the most profound for that I can think of is the marour, which is the bitter herb, which is the horse radish. And if we really are serious about it and we get an actual horse radish and you peel off the peel and you either grate the horse radish or you make it into very small pieces and it's very strong. And that we have to eat and digest and crush it in our teeth. And actually there are huge discussions in the Gamara. If you take the marour, this bitter herb, and you mix it with too much of the sweet charrot set, which is reminiscent of the mortar that we used to make the bricks for the pyramids, which is another symbol, but the charrot set is sweet. And so we try to mitigate the bitterness with some sweetness, but it's not supposed to overpower the marour. There is something about chewing and digesting and letting this bitterness run through our bodies and integrate part of it into us that is critical to the sater. And it generates tears. I mean, you literally did the marour strong enough? Literally people are of tears in their eyes as they consume it. Yes. And I think that it's such a beautiful, forced evocation of feeling where maybe someone doesn't have it in them to feel. And there are so many people who are filled with such pain. And I'm talking pre-October 7th. All the more so post-October 7th, there are people suffering in all different ways. This is part of being human. And I think there is something profound that these rabbis over 2,000 years ago knew, even at the height of our acknowledging were a nation and were free and were not in Egypt and were not in bondage and were not enslaved and were in pain. And that is just a gorgeous braided moment of wisdom. And I love it. And I think that this year we still very much have that. Obviously, part of a community of people who it's right here at all times. But I'm also talking about families who didn't lose loved ones who still have been through the ringer and people in the diaspora who are struggling so much with scary things happening around you in your communities to people you know. You're talking about the crisis, the pandemic, if you will, of anti-Semitism that's sweeping through the diaspora. That's true for you. Yes, and rhetoric that we never thought we'd hear again is now very much predisposed. Is now very much present in our highest halls of influence and power. And we are all struggling. And that is part of being here in this world. So I think there's something very meaningful about saying yes but yes and maybe yes and is much better. Because it's yes, we have goodness, there are things to be proud of, to be happy about. And yes, we are in pain and we are suffering. And there are still many hurdles ahead. And how do we integrate that? And how do we juggle all of those balls? We do. We have the ability to do it. And we're eating this bread of affliction, this matza. Oh, what I had started to say before is that we say if there are three things that if you don't mention them during your conversation, then it says if you haven't had your satire and the three things are the bitter herbs and the bread of affliction, which is the nickname for matza. And we'll talk about why is it called that. And the Passover offering, that offering that we used to bring when we had a temple. And now we don't. And that in memory of that, we have a shankbone that's on the satire plate to remind us of this thing that we no longer have. The only thing that we no longer have the ability to do. But I want to mention the bread of affliction. The number one reason that we say it's matza is because we didn't have time to bake, right? We were in a real hurry and we thought, take the crackers and run. But there is also commentary that matza is actually the bread that the Egyptians fed us while we were slaves. It was our bread of affliction while we worked. It was high carbs, very cheap to make, constipating, which I'm not trying to be funny. But like if you want your slave laborers working non-stop, you don't want a lot of bathroom breaks. Matza gets the job done. And so we have this very interesting combination of this is in a way it's a dinner to commemorate this anniversary of us becoming a nation, yay, we're free. And on the other hand, these are really sad symbols, really tough, heavy symbols. And by the way, another thing that means a lot, I think that teaches a lot because again, this is really formative. For Jewish children or non-Jewish children, whoever comes to a satire, you ferment these memories from a young age of being a satire. And one of the things that I think is really beautiful that we do at the satire is we say for each of the ten plagues that affected our enemies, these people who did these terrible things to us, we take a drop of wine out of our wine, out of our happiness, out of our celebratory drink. And for each of the ten plagues, we take out a drip of the wine, either with our pink ear, with a spoon, because we don't want to celebrate the suffering, even of people who caused us tremendous suffering. And there's a commentary by Rabbi Israel Salantar, who was the father of the mooser movement of the sort of ethical, mooring movement within khasidut. And he says that when you get to the tenth plague and you take out that final drop, sometimes naturally you'll lick your pinky or you'll lick the spoon that you've been taking the drops out. And he says, don't do that because you should not have any pleasure, even from your worst enemy suffering. And the reason I think that that's important is I was thinking about how we also have a tradition, anyone who's been to a Shabbat dinner, you know, we cover the khala. And a lot of people have made their own khala covers, or there's obviously you could get beautiful khala covers. Why do we cover the khala? This is the bread we say, a blessing at the beginning of a Shabbat meal on a Friday night. Every Shabbat meal or even on Passover, we're going to have our matza is going to be covered and why. And we say, well, you know, at a Shabbat meal, we make two blessings before the meal starts. One is on the wine and one is on the bread. Now the wine goes first. We don't want to make the bread feel bad, so we cover it. Now that the rabbi say, really, we cover it like this is an inanimate object. We're worried we're going to hurt the feelings of the bread, so we're covering the bread. But they say, calva, home, air, all the more so. Again, Rob Salanta says, if a child grows up in a home where they see that you're going so much out of your way, not to hurt an inanimate object, all the more so is that child going to know it is not acceptable to hurt a person. And so there's something really powerful about taking out drops of the wine at the satyr and making sure that you don't lick that pinky or that spoon that we are teaching our children. This is who we are. How do you respond to in this moment we're in right now where after all the extraordinary pain and suffering that the Jews have been through specifically over the last two and a half years, there is this sense. I mean, it's undeniable Rachel that we are Israel and America are our vanquishing one of its core enemies, which is this regime in Iran. This is not a conversation about geopolitics and this is not a just generally speaking, there is a sense of regardless of where this goes and negotiations are no negotiation straight of hormones, no straight. I mean, I don't want to get into all that. The point is this regime that has been at the core of so much evil and destruction and violence throughout the region, throughout the world against Israel, against the Jewish people, against the West is finally being pushed back on in a very common sense. In a very concrete way again, we'll see where everything goes, but isn't that I don't want to say celebration. Celebrations not the right word, but isn't there a sense of enthusiasm one can hold in that moment. I think that there is a difference between relief and glee. There is a difference between feeling a sense of hope that someone can't hurt us anymore versus Shadon Friida and dancing around. Because of the death of somebody. I just think that we don't teach our children that it's not part of our tradition. The Shadon Friida is not part of our tradition. It doesn't mean there isn't a place for badness to be extinguished, but I think being gleeful, there's a very fine line to where that leads us as human beings as people. And I actually think as someone who really had the ultimate pain from that I don't think it's who we are. The plague that broke the back of the Egyptians was the plague of losing all the first born sons. And I think when the Jews were leaving Egypt, after they heard the cry of an entire nation losing their firstborn child, I don't think they were gleeful. I really don't. I think they were relieved and they were like packer bags were out of here. There is in the midrash where God says to the angels, "Kull it. They're also my creations." And yes, they were doing evil things, but they are also my creations. I don't want to hear you doing a soft shoe routine. I just think be a human. Be a human. There are parameters that make us different and holy and God-like. And I think we have to stay within those parameters. Rachel, coming back to the Haggadah, the telling of the evening, the ritual sater. I want to just touch on a few blessings that are also melodies that are, I think, very memorable to people. Each year, one is Dainu, which in English means enough. I would say after perhaps the four questions after Mane Shanaat's probably one of the most well-known prayers, melodies of the sater. Can you aid, talk about, describe what it is and be, tell us how you're thinking about it and its significance this year. So obviously, I think that this is the ultimate divine challenge, this idea of Dainu. Dainu means it would have been enough. And there is a song after we do the Ten Plague ritual that I was mentioning before. There's this song that kind of goes through the stages that the children of Israel went through as they were leaving Egypt. And after each stands our each line, it will say that would have been enough. And of course, we all ask ourselves really, it would have been enough. It says, you know, if God had just taken us out of Egypt. and left us in the desert, it would have been enough. Like that sounds kind of weird, really? Or if God had just let us wander for 40 years through the desert, it would have been enough. It's got to take us to the Promised Land, but not let us cross over it would have been enough. And when you deconstruct that, you think, really, it would have been enough. That doesn't sound like it would have been enough. And of course, what the powerful, beautiful message of that is saying, how do we stop where we are and acknowledge what we have is actually a blessing? And I've really asked myself that a lot since her was killed. I think to myself, is it enough? I had him for 23 years and 332 days. Was that enough? And I'm able to say that I thank God that I had him for that time. What I wanted to say is that I think there's something about Dayanu that is, if the whole entire satir is a gratitude training seminar, Dayanu is sort of the theme song of, how are we able to look at our lives and not see what's missing, but see what we have. And I do think to myself often that I'm so lucky. I'm honestly so lucky because I had him. And I hate that he's not here, and I wish I had him longer, but I had him. And I heard this beautiful thing that the Bal Shem Tov said, the Bal Shem Tov was the founder of the Hasidic movement. He was asked, what's the purpose in life? And he said, a soul comes down to this world and has 70 to 80 years. He bases that on Psalm 90, which Moses actually, as a true Mosheb, was attributed with writing. And the Bal Shem Tov says, you have 70 to 80 years to do one act of kindness once to one person. That is your purpose of being here. And what that means to me is that that's why sometimes someone's here for 102 years because they haven't yet done. It's not that they haven't done an act of kindness. They've probably done thousands of acts of kindness, but there was one purpose of them coming to this world and they have not yet done it. And the converse is true as well, meaning that a child who dies when they're six years old, they have already accomplished in those six years, what sometimes someone takes 70 or 80 years to accomplish and that child has already done their one act of kindness to that one person. And we don't know what it is. And I think sometimes I know that Hirsch in his 23 years did his chesa, his act of kindness, and he was able to go. And I don't know if he did that act of kindness when he was five years old to me. I don't know if he did that act of kindness when he was 12 years old to a friend in school. I don't know if he did that act of kindness at the Nova Festival when he smiled at someone who didn't really have a lot of things to smile about. But whatever it was, he fulfilled his why, he fulfilled his purpose and his meaning, and he was able to go. And I think that those are the ideas that I think about when I'm thinking about Dianu. And I think that each of us can think during Dianu, what is it that it's enough, even if I would hate for it to end today? I actually am blessed and it's enough. Mm-hmm. Can we talk about some of the blessings, rituals or melodies that round out the sater like, "Hadgadja." What is "Hadgadja?" So "Hadgadja" is a song that we sing at the very end of the sater that is relatively new. I just read a great article by Rabbi Michael Hatton from the Part A institute, and he talks about this song. And on the surface, it's a song that keeps the kids till the end of the sater, because it's a fun song about a little goat, a baby goat, who a father buys for two zoosim, two pieces of silver or whatever it is. And this cute little goat, all this string of chaos happens. It's almost like the Jewish version of, I don't know why she swallowed a fly, that song of, then this happened to this, happened to this. So with this poor goat was eaten by a cat that was then bit by a dog that was then hit by a stick, and the stick was then lit on fire, and then the fire was quenched from water, and the water was drunk from an ox that was going by, and the ox was killed by a butcher, and the butcher is killed by the, it's like thing after thing, after thing happens. And on the one hand, it's a really fun song, and it's got a catchy tune, and different families have different traditions. Our tradition, the Poland family tradition, was that everybody would get one of the characters, and you had to make the noise of the character. Your interpretation of what the noise would be when that word is said, so it was always very creative when it became, then came the stick, right? 'Cause we don't all know what, you know, someone would say, "thwack." There's that, but what Rabbi Hatten does is he actually says there's also a deeper meaning, which is it's that idea that if you have the long view when bad things are happening, hope is on the way, hope is there, because the very last verse of Haggadja says that even death that comes to the butcher, death is then reminied by God. And that's how we end the satire with this idea that ultimately there will be relief, and there will be salvation, and there will be comfort for everything that we have gone through. And there are some that say that the goat is a symbol for the Jewish people, or some people say it's the symbol for what we were talking about before, for our ego, our inner self, and then all these things get in our way, the dog, the cat, the stick, the water. So I think it's a special song, either on its surface level, or if you wanna take it deeper, because it's really the message is, don't just look at the next thing that is in line, but there's a whole plan that's unwinding that you're just not seeing because you're so part of it, which I talk about often about growing up in Chicago, and my mother used to take me to the art institute 'cause she was desperate for me to be cultured, and she would have me look at George Saraz, famous point-alist masterpiece of Sunday afternoon on the island of Lagra Jean. And if you look at it really close, it just looks like a pixelated mess. But if you take 10 steps back, you suddenly see everything falls into place and it actually makes sense. And that is the challenge that all of us have in all of our lives, each of us as individuals, and us as a nation, as a people, and as a world. - All right, Rachel, we'll leave it there. What do you wish people? - What do we do generally? 'Cause we say, "Hugs and mayors, hug, peace, hugs and mayors." What do you say? What do you, Rachel, say? - You know that you and I have said that we wish people a meaningful Passover or a meaningful hug, a meaningful holiday. And I also think on this specific holiday, and I think that I've said this to you before, but that we don't just say, let's remember that Moses said, let my people go, but let's figure out how do we let ourselves go in order to do good, in order to do better, in order to be godly, whatever that means to everyone. What's our why? Like the Balshem Tov said, what's my one thing? I may have done it already, and like I just have missed the bus, but my suspicion is that I haven't done it yet. And I think all of us who are here, the reason that we're here is that we're not done. So I wish for everyone to continue on our paths and to have a Passover infused with meaning, satir with more questions than answers. - Thank you, Rachel. - Thanks, Dan. (upbeat music) - On April 20th, I'll be interviewing Rachel at the Striker Center in Manhattan to mark the release of her upcoming book, "When We See You Again." This book, I highly highly recommended, I couldn't be more emphatic. It will be published and released soon. If you're in New York City and would like to join us, we will have a link for tickets to the event in the show notes and hope you can make it. That's our show for today. If you value the Call Me Back podcast and you wanna support our mission, please subscribe to our weekly members-only show, Inside Call Me Back. Inside Call Me Back is where Ndavaila, Meet Segal and I have the conversations that typically occur after the cameras stop rolling. To subscribe, please follow the link in the show notes or you can go to arcmedia.org. That's arkmedia.org. Call Me Back is produced and edited by Juan Benatar. Arcmedia's executive producer is a Dom James Levin already. Our production manager is Brittany Cohn. Our community manager is Ava Weiner. Our music was composed by Yuval Semo, Sound and Video Editing by Liquid Audio. Until next time, I'm your host, Dan Seenor. (upbeat music) (upbeat music)