COMMENTARY: Passovers come and go, but the memories remain

c. 2008 Religion News Service (UNDATED) Pesach _ or Passover _ is the eight-day festival commemorating the ancient Israelites’ exodus from Egyptian slavery. The holiday begins at sundown on April 19, when Jewish family members participate in one of the world’s oldest religious traditions, the Seder, or Passover meal. The Hebrew bible relates how the […]

c. 2008 Religion News Service

(UNDATED) Pesach _ or Passover _ is the eight-day festival commemorating the ancient Israelites’ exodus from Egyptian slavery. The holiday begins at sundown on April 19, when Jewish family members participate in one of the world’s oldest religious traditions, the Seder, or Passover meal.

The Hebrew bible relates how the God of freedom heard the cries of the enslaved Israelites, and through the leadership of Moses, delivered them from bondage to freedom.


For centuries, Jews have marked that liberation with unleavened bread as well as special prayers and songs. A narrative booklet, the Haggadah, recounts the Passover story in precise “order” _ the meaning of the Hebrew word Seder.

Each Passover represents another year of change in our lives and our world, and each Seder adds new memories to our memory banks. While the Passover saga remains constant, every Seder is a unique never-to-be repeated experience.

For me, four Passover meals are most vivid:

_ 1943: During World War II, my father was an Army officer at Fort Belvoir, Va., and he would save up his precious gasoline rations so our family had enough fuel for the drive to Pittsburgh where we shared Passover with my grandparents. My brother, Bert, and I were rarities at that Seder because most of my male relatives were in the armed forces, stationed far from home.

I remember my grandmother creating her delicious gefilte fish delicacy, a Seder staple. To guarantee freshness, newly-purchased Lake Erie whitefish were placed in a water-filled bath tub. Most of the Passover specialties were perepared by my overworked grandmother.

Years later, I sadly learned of the heroic Jewish Warsaw ghetto armed uprising that began on that same 1943 Seder night. While I safely watched my grandfather conduct our family Seder, young Jews of my age in Poland were fighting the hated Nazis.

_ 1961: I was an Air Force chaplain stationed at Itazuke Air Base in southern Japan. While serving there for several years, military personnel were allowed to bring their “dependents” _ military speak for spouses and children _ to Japan and created a “Little America.”

But military service in nearby South Korea was different: it was a 13-month tour of duty without dependents. Personnel were required to wear uniforms at all times, and maintaining morale was a constant concern. It became acute for my Jewish military congregation in Korea, especially as Passover approached. Homesickness and depression became evident.


Thanks to the good offices of the U.S. ambassador to South Korea, I was able to use his official plane to airlift many U.S. Jewish personnel to Itazuke, where they enjoyed warm family hospitality, two Seder meals, worship services, sightseeing, and the opportunity to wear civilian clothing if only for eight days.

I called the project “Operation Matzo Ball,” and it remains a high point of my rabbinic career. Even now, I still receive thanks from some of the men and women who celebrated Passover with other American Jewish families.

_ 1974: For years, my family gathered at my parents’ home in Alexandria, Va., for the Seder. It was always a joyous occasion and as the years passed, new grandchildren _ including my two daughters _ joined the Seder festivities.

But in March of that year, just a few weeks before Pesach, my brother Bert died of Hodgkin’s disease at age 44, leaving behind a widow and four children. There was some question whether my deeply grieving family _ especially my parents _ could host a Seder. Bert had always been so much a part our festivities, particularly his singing and humor.

To my parents’ credit, the Seder took place, but it was muted and filled with sadness. Although the family tradition remained unbroken, even the Seder’s joy could not conceal the pain and sorrow we felt for the loss of one so young.

_ 2008: No, that’s not a typo. Although Passover has not yet arrived, each year I always hope the upcoming holiday meal will be the most memorable and joyous Seder of all.


It is that hope that makes Passover such a beloved holiday.

(Rabbi Rudin, the American Jewish Committee’s senior interreligious adviser, is the author of the recently published book “The Baptizing of America: The Religious Right’s Plans for the Rest of Us.”)

KRE/CM END RUDIN

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