Matzah is the paradox / at the heart of Passover.
What are we to do, when a story goes stale?
Can a Jew celebrate Passover alone?
Two memoirs are out just recently from people I admire: Jeanne Córdova’s When We were Outlaws and Kate Bornstein’s A Queer and Pleasant Danger.
Jews ask questions. It’s what we do, whether we are the most sophisticated Talmudist or the most rebellious fourteen year old. We celebrate questions, and put them at the center of the Passover seder, one of the holiest events in our year.
I read those passages in Exodus 8 and 9, and I think of all the suffering people and animals. Pharaoh and the Hebrew God have their confrontation, and I am angry at both of them.
Passover seders are a wonderful time for telling family stories, a time when children are gathered around the table with adults, when memory can flow. Was there a passage from an Egypt, a tight spot, in your family’s past?