 | In olden days, during the week leading into Passover, rabbis gathered folks to huddle about the strictures of keeping kosher for Passover. Instead, let's huddle about the freedom that we're about to celebrate. Let's huddle about the Passover that rekindles the eternal flame of our identity and social- justice mission to spread freedom to others who cower in dehumanizing want and fear. Let's huddle about how, especially now, freedom means bringing light to dark places. |
By Rabbi David Evan Markus
Tzav 5786 (2026)
I have matzah on my mind, and Peter Paul & Mary in my heart.
To me, the "Bread of Affliction" is nothing of the sort. At my best, each crunch reminds me of ancestral liberations, shackles shattered and enslaving patterns broken – and the power to do so again.
Tzav 5786 (2026)
I have matzah on my mind, and Peter Paul & Mary in my heart.
To me, the "Bread of Affliction" is nothing of the sort. At my best, each crunch reminds me of ancestral liberations, shackles shattered and enslaving patterns broken – and the power to do so again.
| | It ain't easy. Peter Paul & Mary's "No Easy Walk to Freedom" speaks poignantly to this time in the Jewish calendar and the times we live in. They sang – as Passover haggadot proclaim – that we must keep shattering shackles and breaking patterns that enslave. They sang that the only way forward is the uneasy walk: "Keep on walking / And you shall be free, / That's how we're gonna make history." |
Yet again, Passover approaches. And yet again, shackles abound and patterns enslave. You know your own. National and global news are full of examples. Liberty and core values again are in peril.
This moment in the Jewish year always aligns with the Torah portion about an ancestral altar always kept aflame (Leviticus 6:1-6). It was essential that an eternal fire of hearth, home, hope and healing always be kept burning – "never to go out."
As then, so now.
R. Tzadok of Lublin (d. 1900) – aptly named for tzedek (justice) – famously taught that there are two kinds of freedom. In the first kind, we are liberated from darkness to a place of light. In the second kind, we bring light into darkness.
Passover's liberation from Egyptian bondage was the first kind of freedom. We celebrate Passover l'dor va-dor (from generation to generation) as the Master Story of our peoplehood and the genesis of our social justice commitments. We celebrate Passover to feel again the profound gift that freedom is, and how precious and fleeting freedom can be.
Which brings us to our second kind of freedom – the kind that needs us to bring light to the darkness. We celebrate Passover to affirm our duty, and redouble our commitment, to press the bounds of liberty until all can break free from dehumanizing want and fear.
There's plenty of darkness. Some of us feel it keenly as "moral injury" – hurt to our values and conscience. Some of us feel it keenly as fear of the present, or fear for the future. Some of us feel it keenly as loneliness, poor health and myriad unhealed hurts.
We must bring the light to the darkness. We must be the light in the darkness.
We are made for the blessings of liberty. They are our birthright, our motto, our mission statement, our beacon, our command, our purpose, our superglue, our inspiration, and our very purpose of being.
May this Passover's candles evoke the eternal altar of hearth, home, hope and healing.
May this Passover rekindle the eternal flame of our hearts, our people, and the conscience of the world – and inspire us to shine light where there is darkness.
May this Passover's matzah evoke the breaking of shackles, to remind us of our calling and duty to keep breaking them.
May you and your loved ones receive – and become – every blessing of a joy-filled Passover. From my heart to yours, חג כשר ושמח / Hag sameah!
This moment in the Jewish year always aligns with the Torah portion about an ancestral altar always kept aflame (Leviticus 6:1-6). It was essential that an eternal fire of hearth, home, hope and healing always be kept burning – "never to go out."
As then, so now.
R. Tzadok of Lublin (d. 1900) – aptly named for tzedek (justice) – famously taught that there are two kinds of freedom. In the first kind, we are liberated from darkness to a place of light. In the second kind, we bring light into darkness.
Passover's liberation from Egyptian bondage was the first kind of freedom. We celebrate Passover l'dor va-dor (from generation to generation) as the Master Story of our peoplehood and the genesis of our social justice commitments. We celebrate Passover to feel again the profound gift that freedom is, and how precious and fleeting freedom can be.
Which brings us to our second kind of freedom – the kind that needs us to bring light to the darkness. We celebrate Passover to affirm our duty, and redouble our commitment, to press the bounds of liberty until all can break free from dehumanizing want and fear.
There's plenty of darkness. Some of us feel it keenly as "moral injury" – hurt to our values and conscience. Some of us feel it keenly as fear of the present, or fear for the future. Some of us feel it keenly as loneliness, poor health and myriad unhealed hurts.
We must bring the light to the darkness. We must be the light in the darkness.
We are made for the blessings of liberty. They are our birthright, our motto, our mission statement, our beacon, our command, our purpose, our superglue, our inspiration, and our very purpose of being.
May this Passover's candles evoke the eternal altar of hearth, home, hope and healing.
May this Passover rekindle the eternal flame of our hearts, our people, and the conscience of the world – and inspire us to shine light where there is darkness.
May this Passover's matzah evoke the breaking of shackles, to remind us of our calling and duty to keep breaking them.
May you and your loved ones receive – and become – every blessing of a joy-filled Passover. From my heart to yours, חג כשר ושמח / Hag sameah!
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