Passover is coming. More than 550 days since October 7, 2023, and loved ones we expected to be at the table with us will not be there, again. In Israel, their names are so familiar. In America, we haven’t forgotten them, either. Since October 7th, the world has grown even angrier, more polarized, less forgiving, and less civil. Was the Israelites’ wilderness journey as fraught and unending? The Israelites waited while Moses delayed their expectations for God’s revelation to them. They grew hungry for faith and felt lost in the wilderness.

In their haste they built a Golden Calf.

These days are fraught and unending, too. Israeli visitors tell us that America is complicated like Israel and the Middle East. No one is at ease, so we seem more alike than ever. We’re all waiting for hostages to come home and for antisemitism to calm down, so will we be tempted to build a Golden Calf, too? Like the Israelites who were hungry for faith, we might turn to false promises, false messiahs, or puppet kings. Like the Israelites, we might have to journey in a wilderness, too.

In ancient times, those who turned away from their molten god and kept faith with Adonai persisted on their journey. In the end, their faith led a new generation to a Promised Land, and as Torah relates, they were fed, clothed, and safeguarded along the way. Their faith saw them through it. Faith will sustain us, too. In the darkest periods of Jewish history, including the Holocaust, survivors like Elie Wiesel and Viktor Frankl explained that faith sustained them, especially during indescribable desperation.

We suffer, too, but ours is different in so many ways. We can point to sources of support and strength, and not just from the Jewish community. We might struggle with Jews and non-Jews, but we build bridges of understanding and civility, together. We also live in a world where Israel, the ancient hope, came to be after 2000 years of exile. After WWII, Israel would safeguard Jews who came there. The crisis of October 7th is enormous, because Israel failed in its promise to defend its citizens against what became the worst assault on Jewish lives since the Holocaust. As it was for our ancestors whose faith was renewed and strengthened, we have to renew our faith and strength, too.

This is our time. We have a historical Jewish obligation as a people to our people, everywhere, and our Jewish journey with Israel must continue. Hard as it can be, it’s imperative that we focus on God and Torah as reliable sources of faith.

At our Passover tables, let’s find ways to interrupt the traditional readings with insights into our journey, our current events, and our faith in what is still possible. Leave a chair for the hostages or for a loved one whose presence will be missed this year. And when we remove drops of wine from our cups to diminish the joy (wine is a symbol of joy) of freedom while the Egyptians suffered ten plagues, take out another drop for the struggle, the losses, the pain, and the disorientation of the world, today. Then sing about Elijah the Prophet, the herald of the Messiah, who is yet to come and announce peace in the world.

Until Elijah comes, we’ll keep opening the door at the end of the Seder, and we’ll always keep faith in God’s way found in Torah. Next Year in Jerusalem; Next Year in Peace for all God’s children everywhere.

L’Shalom,