Ha lachma anya. “This is the bread of affliction.” So begins the Magid section of the Passover Seder. It begins in the past – “This is the bread of affliction which our ancestors ate in Egypt.” And it ends in the future, with the hope for an eventual complete redemption -- “This year we are in bondage; next year may we be free people.”
What happens in the middle, in the present moment? How do we move from our past of suffering to a future of redemption? Kol dikhfin yete ve’yekhul. Kol ditzrikh yete veyifsach. “Whoever is hungry, let him come and eat; whoever has needs, let him come and take part in our Passover celebration.” We move from suffering to redemption through acts of caring for those who are in need.
We begin by remembering our own ancestors’ troubles. That is not hard. If Egypt seems too removed, we have more recent wounds to remind us. The next step is to turn those memories into a catalyst for compassion and action on behalf of those who are currently suffering. This idea is placed in the middle, at the heart of the ha lahmay anya passage; helping others is the link between our past and our future; our ability to use our memory of past suffering to help others is what will ultimately bring on redemption.
Redemption, however, does not come through our actions alone, but requires divine assistance. The Haggadah makes this point by leaving out Moshe’s name in the story, but we shouldn’t forget that God follows human initiative. There is the Hasidic notion that it is our job, through our actions, to bring down God’s presence to earth. In the Exodus story, the first person to show compassion to the Israelites is Moshe. He steps out of his palace and sees their troubles and tries to help. His initial attempts (killing the Egyptian and reprimanding the Israelite) may seem insignificant and useless, but what they did succeed in doing is to call God down to earth to do His own work of redemption. Divine help requires human initiative, begins with human signs of caring.
Ha Lachma Anya ends strangely with the assertion that “This year we are in bondage.” What do you mean we are now in bondage? We are free; the whole point of the story is that God already freed us! The statement is a reminder that the work of redemption is a continual process, that you and I at this moment may be free, but we are never truly free until everyone is. When we break the matzah into two halves in yachatz, we are again reminded of the continued brokenness of this world. We do not break the matzah into two equal halves. The world is not symmetrical, not fair. There are the haves and the have-nots. There are those, like us, who sit in freedom and comfort, and others who are hungry, enslaved or behind bars. In a redeemed world, we would all be reclined -- kulanu mesubin.
This Passover, may we find a way to participate in some small way in the process of redemption!
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An insightful and inspiring reading of Ha Lachma.
ReplyDeleteI really like the analysis, but ha lachma seems to me to be haunting, not redemptive. We seem to be sharing small morsels of poverty around, feeling oppressed, and longing for redemption. It reads to me like a whispered, shortened version of the Seder you would have in the basement, with the storm-troopers marching outside. (Maybe it's just the haunting tune I'm familiar with.)
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