With the approach of Pesach, its themes become our focus as we turn our attention yet again to the retelling of our foundational myth of the rescue from Egypt and the infusion of purpose into our individual and collective lives. For various reasons, my own first thoughts have centred on the short paragraph which sums up our story, namely that God stood up for our ancestors and for us as well. For it was not just one who tried to destroy us (i.e. the biblical pharaoh) but in every generation there is someone who tries to annihilate us and we are continually saved by the Holy One.
In contrast, R. Hanna Tiferet crafted a different approach based on the first word being hi, she, the Shechinah. The English verse says: “And She stood by us, and She protected us, and gently guided us to this day.” Yet, if the older version speaks of potential catastrophes in every generation, then how is it that we were gently guided? And, if R. Hanna’s version speaks of ongoing and gentle guidance, then why is the music written for the traditional paragraph so often upbeat?
The more I thought about this particular moment in the Seder, the more I began to see similar dichotomies all over the liturgy and the annual calendar cycle. So many of the psalms speak of how God protects the righteous who witness the destruction of their enemies even though these poets know that this is not always true. Conversely, the nishmat prayer, when remembering the exodus, doesn’t mention the splitting of the sea and the destruction of the Egyptian army. Instead it goes immediately to how God has fed us in times of famine and saved us from enemies, continually performing miracles which continue into the present. We celebrate Purim as a last minute victory over our enemies guided by the unseen hand of God and we also mourn the destruction of both temples, also attributed to God who was unhappy with us. Sometimes we cry over how painful our lives have been and at other times we celebrate our lives as though they have been continually blessed, creative, and peaceful.
The more I think about it, the more I want to hold both ends of this continuum together at the same time. There is no need to choose between the two extremes, nor of any of the many points along that continuum. In truth, the closer to either extreme, the harder it is to hold both sides. Does the experience of the holocaust undermine forever the side of “gently guided us?” Does the freedom and relative safety of many Jewish communities around the world and of course the existence of the State of Israel put an end to the Jewish story of persecution? These points, at either end, do make it harder to hold them both simultaneously. This is the great challenge of unitive belief, that “all is God” even in the places which we may want to exclude. With war again raging in Europe, with the earth telling us that she has had enough of our thoughtlessness and selfishness, and yet with plenty of food for our tables and the freedom to celebrate Pesach, we are living inside this continuum in a deeply immediate and personal way.
May we find ways to acknowledge the divine in every action and in every moment.
Chag Same’ach.
PS: Reb Zalman’s father had a strong connection with Belzer hassidut and below you will find a Belzer melody for V’hi She’amda and R. Hanna’s version.