Tonight we shared a passover seder meal at our neighbor’s home. Many Christians, one Jew.
Yet we are all Isra-el (one who struggles with God or El-ohim).
Our host, E, is a good friend and an amazing cook. There was tender roasted lamb seasoned with thyme, rosemary and olive oil. There was the charosset of walnuts, ginger, apples and dates. There was steaming, homemade chicken matzo ball soup. There were roasted potatoes, boiled eggs and horseradish.
Like many generations before us, we shared the bitter herbs of suffering dipped in the salt water of tears. We broke the unleavened bread and drank the wine.
We heard the story of how people of every time and place escape from the oppression they are caught in – whether it is the dominant culture, as in Egypt, or the seduction of anything that separates us from God or our true selves.
We prayed that death, in all its forms, will pass over this house, these lives.
We remembered how we wandered in the desert of our lives, looking for something more.
We gave thanks in gratefulness, for all God has done, is doing and will do in our lives to make us who we are truly meant to be. We are being slowly healed by healthy relationships in community.
As we heard the ancient blessings in Hebrew, Aramaic and English, even Elijah came to sit in the empty chair near the end, in the form of one more guest.
It was an evening of friendship, generosity and hospitality. Thank you E.
Amen.
