Passover contains one of the most interesting forms of utopia: the utopia of memory.
Even its first mention in the Book of Exodus contains both the plain reality of the occurrence and an intense emphasis on memory. When God is telling Moses the “work plan” for the last night in Egypt, he says:
13: And the blood shall be to you for a token upon the houses where ye are: and when I
14: And this day shall be unto you for a memorial; and ye shall keep it a feast to the LORD throughout your generations; ye shall keep it a feast by an ordinance for ever.
15: Seven days shall ye eat unleavened bread; even the first day ye shall put away leaven out of your houses: for whosoever eateth leavened bread from the first day until the seventh day, that soul shall be cut off from Israel.
16: And in the first day there shall be an holy convocation, and in the seventh day there shall be an holy convocation to you; no manner of work shall be done in them, save that which every man must eat, that only may be done of you.
17: And ye shall observe the feast of unleavened bread; for in this selfsame day have I brought your armies out of the land of Egypt: therefore shall ye observe this day in your generations by an ordinance for ever.
18: In the first month, on the fourteenth day of the month at even, ye shall eat unleavened bread, until the one and twentieth day of the month at even.
(Exodus 12)
A commandment to remember a historical event is usually given after it happens. Impressive historical events are translated to rituals over time, and with repetition the presence of a miracle tends to grow. Collective national memory and our private, personal memory exist simultaneously in our mind. Holidays, which are also ceremonies, are special moments set apart from daily life and are maintained in our memory as a landmark in itself – a landmark on the landscape of our personal or family memories of special days overlaid on a mythic or national map.
Passover, even before it happens, is formed on both the level of reality and the level of memory. When Moses gives the “order of the day” scenario for what would be that night’s dramatic departure from Egypt, the Israelites – waiting with their bundles in their hands, are given a rather long-term command: “and ye shall keep it a feast to the LORD throughout your generations; ye shall keep it a feast by an ordinance forever.”
The Passover ritual has changed with the absence of the Temple in Jerusalem; there has been a transition from a Passover holiday concentrated on observing the Passover sacrifice in national communal space to a Passover holiday based and celebrated at home, around the family table. The Haggadah structures the Seder as a multi-generational night that focuses on the nature of memory – both the creation of it and the conjuring of it – in a number of ways. We are moved through different activities – conversation, reading, singing, eating, drinking, viewing, listening – and, simultaneously, through different levels of time. We move between present and past, between the time of the formation of the Haggadah and the time of the Exodus, and even between the different layers of time represented by the ones gathered around the table.
There is a Passover liturgical poem that repeats the line “and you shall say Passover sacrifice” that beautifully focuses on the tension created between the action and the memory – between the Passover sacrifice and the pronunciation of it as a phrase, as words, and as a poem. Instead of directly observing the Passover sacrifice, our efforts focus on the memory of it through singing about it, remembering it and celebrating the memory. We create a ritual that keeps the essence of the night of the Exodus from Egypt but frames it in the private, local, domestic, and meaningful present experience.
Even its first mention in the Book of Exodus contains both the plain reality of the occurrence and an intense emphasis on memory. When God is telling Moses the “work plan” for the last night in Egypt, he says:
13: And the blood shall be to you for a token upon the houses where ye are: and when I
14: And this day shall be unto you for a memorial; and ye shall keep it a feast to the LORD throughout your generations; ye shall keep it a feast by an ordinance for ever.
15: Seven days shall ye eat unleavened bread; even the first day ye shall put away leaven out of your houses: for whosoever eateth leavened bread from the first day until the seventh day, that soul shall be cut off from Israel.
16: And in the first day there shall be an holy convocation, and in the seventh day there shall be an holy convocation to you; no manner of work shall be done in them, save that which every man must eat, that only may be done of you.
17: And ye shall observe the feast of unleavened bread; for in this selfsame day have I brought your armies out of the land of Egypt: therefore shall ye observe this day in your generations by an ordinance for ever.
18: In the first month, on the fourteenth day of the month at even, ye shall eat unleavened bread, until the one and twentieth day of the month at even.
(Exodus 12)
A commandment to remember a historical event is usually given after it happens. Impressive historical events are translated to rituals over time, and with repetition the presence of a miracle tends to grow. Collective national memory and our private, personal memory exist simultaneously in our mind. Holidays, which are also ceremonies, are special moments set apart from daily life and are maintained in our memory as a landmark in itself – a landmark on the landscape of our personal or family memories of special days overlaid on a mythic or national map.
Passover, even before it happens, is formed on both the level of reality and the level of memory. When Moses gives the “order of the day” scenario for what would be that night’s dramatic departure from Egypt, the Israelites – waiting with their bundles in their hands, are given a rather long-term command: “and ye shall keep it a feast to the LORD throughout your generations; ye shall keep it a feast by an ordinance forever.”
The Passover ritual has changed with the absence of the Temple in Jerusalem; there has been a transition from a Passover holiday concentrated on observing the Passover sacrifice in national communal space to a Passover holiday based and celebrated at home, around the family table. The Haggadah structures the Seder as a multi-generational night that focuses on the nature of memory – both the creation of it and the conjuring of it – in a number of ways. We are moved through different activities – conversation, reading, singing, eating, drinking, viewing, listening – and, simultaneously, through different levels of time. We move between present and past, between the time of the formation of the Haggadah and the time of the Exodus, and even between the different layers of time represented by the ones gathered around the table.
ר' חיים הכהן
