Passover Seder: A Night Unlike Other Nights

I hung up the phone, attempting to not give in to frustration. I had just called another temple, who—though having no problem with me attending the Passover Seder as a reverent participant—had a big problem with me writing a story for Culver City Patch.

Having had my own Seder a couple of years ago, I was fascinated by the rich symbolism, the history of the holiday and the ability for food to teach and instruct.

In terms of the Passover Seder in Los Angeles, I had, after yet another unsuccessful attempt to report on one, concluded that the word “reporter” must be synonymous with the word “unclean.”

I understand. The holiday is a time for worship and acknowledgment of the God that freed the Israelites from slavery in Egypt in the 13^thcentury B.C.E. While I had no intention of disrupting the Seder, I could understand that many would not feel comfortable having a non-Jewish reporter attending the festivities.

I lucked up when I called the Chabad Jewish Community Center and spoke with Rabbi Yossi Greisman, whose friendly voice and calm demeanor were an immediate relief for the wild Seder-goose chase I had been on.

After some e-mail tag, he allowed me to come to the Seder he conducted at his home with a few special guests and his lovely family, wife Sara and seven children.

I quietly observed as his six girls eagerly laid out the Seder elements, and took the time to explain to me each item of food on the table: the hard boiled egg and shankbone for the sacrificial offerings brought to the Temple, the vegetables to be dipped in salt water symbolizing the tears from slavery in Egypt, the charoses representing the mortar used to build bricks and the lettuce and horseradish telling eaters about the bitterness of slavery.

“Most of the Seder questions are asked by young children to give them an education,” said Rabbi Greisman about the service that takes guests through centuries of Israelite history, as his darling girls darted to and fro in matching ensembles to put different items on the table.

The absolute delight of my brief time there was watching his three-year-old daughter recite the Mah Nishtanah, also known as the four questions, in Hebrew:

What makes this night different from all other nights?

On all nights we need not dip even once, on this night we do so twice!

On all nights we eat chametz or matzah, and on this night only matzah.

On all nights we eat any kind of vegetables, and on this night maror!

On all nights we eat sitting upright or reclining, and on this night we all recline!

I was completely moved by the night, moved to tears as the Rabbi explained lesson after spiritual lesson. My takeaway was when he explained a key concept of the matzah, or unleavened bread:

“Matzah is true spiritual food,” he said to a room of attentive guests. “When you break it, it is a reminder of freedom. That in order to have freedom, you need to allow yourself to be broken.”

I send a big round of thanks and a token of shalom (meaning “peace”) to Rabbi Greisman and his family for letting me join in his celebration.

Editor's Note: Winter Johnson is the local editor for Culver City Patch.