My Passover seder this year was spent in the company of the small Reform Jewish community in Lisbon, Portugal.
When someone asked a friend of mine what his daughter enjoys most about living in Israel, he explained that she loves the way the country’s secular rhythms synch seamlessly with religious time in a way that doesn’t happen in North America. By way of example, he described Shabbat and holidays as characterized by closed shops, quiet streets, and low-key television programming.
To understand the Exodus narrative, we must view it as a war – a boxing match, if you will – between gods.
A dim light appeared from above and only my dad’s face was visible, peering down reassuringly at us. Then one arm appeared, and with great care, one by one, each of our Passover dishes was handed down, passed from one girl to the next in a sort of human Passover chain that started our family’s preparations for changing our dishes and cleaning out the chametz for this fun holiday.