As you read this, I am on my way to Atlanta with KI teens. We will spend this weekend exploring the American south as we study the history of the civil rights movement. We will not only learn about Rosa Parks and the Rev Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., we will consider as well how the civil rights movement and the Jewish story are linked.
This trip is one I always look forward to; it has us think anew about what it means to be a minority in this country and what it means to stand with the mistreated. We will remind ourselves that to be a Jew is to be a student of history and that, as Jews, we must go beyond learning. Indeed, our task is to apply our knowledge to the broken world all about us.
To stand at the base of the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, or the bus stop near Rosa Park’s place of work in Montgomery, is to put our feet in holy spaces. To visit the home in which MLK grew up is to see with our eyes where an icon lived and learned. These are indeed sacred sites. Taking them in with our teens has always been very powerful for me. The teens come to see that normal people can accomplish extraordinary things and bring our world to a more peaceful place.
It is not lost on me that we are taking this trip in the days leading up to Passover. I have been thinking a lot about the holiday’s themes: liberation, possibility, holding onto tradition amid dizzying world events. Passover will have us recount the story of our people, our going from servitude to freedom, led forward by Moses. It is a story that resonates as much as ever, given the state of our world. Many live under the cloud of war these days, not free to walk the streets in peace or sit at peace in a classroom. Many have been burdened by antisemitism, not feeling a sense of safety and security even in our seemingly evolved day. We feel the deep bitterness of exclusion. The salt water is not unlike the tears we have cried, wondering when the world will cease to show hatred to our people. The matzah is as fragile as we are, burdened and broken once and again by the relentless news of conflict, corruption, enmity, violence and prejudice. We have far more than four questions to be sure.
And yet, Passover is a holiday of hope. The parsley speaks to new beginnings and new growth. The egg reminds us that we keep going, keep moving forward, never stuck in our cynicism or anger, but rolling forward all the time. The sweet wine reminds us of life’s sweetness, even in times of strife, that we are blessed. The songs we sing are songs of verve, life and Jewish pride. Passover reminds us indeed that we are blessed.
May we look back with reverence on those sages and heroes who moved our world forward, both those of the biblical story, such as Moses and Miriam and those of more recent years, such as Dr. King and Rosa Parks. May we recall anew the power we have within us to change the narrative from one of oppression and hardship to greater freedom and understanding. Amen.