A Feast of Salvation given 9/7/14

          All of our kids have been raised on Sesame Street. Of course they deny that now. But I remember. The show came on the air just as our oldest daughter Jenny was hitting the right age to enjoy it—and she adored it.  When Gwyneth was little, she used to watch it sitting on the floor, cuddled up to our Irish Wolfhound. I think a little part of her actually believed that if he watched it enough, the dog might learn to read—or at least talk.

When Gregory was in preschool, we used to watch it on PBS in the morning over breakfast, before he left the house. Finally though, we came to the point when he informed us that Sesame Street is too babyish for him. So then we began to watch the Magic School Bus in pretty much the same way. 

          Quite a few years ago, we were surprised to see a different version of Sesame Street. It was Passover week, and PBS was showing the Israeli version of the show-- which  switches back and forth from Hebrew and English during the same show.  Bert and Ernie and many of the same Muppets and films are featured, but Big Bird is replaced for some reason by a giant hedgehog--or maybe he was a porcupine, I never got that straight.

          Just as in the version you and I are familiar with, the Israeli show features some very funny live action skits, featuring big name TV and Movie stars in cameos. I guess we shouldn’t have been surprised that almost all of those entertainers were mostly U.S. comedians of Jewish extraction.

          One skit that still sticks with me today featured Anne Meara (if you’re younger than me --she’s Ben Stiller’s mom). She played a confused Hebrew housewife in Egypt being evicted from her hovel and sent on her way to the Exodus, by Pharaoh's guards.

          "Whattya mean we gotta leave? You can’t evict us, our family’s been living in this hovel for 400 years. Where are we s’posed to go? To Canaan? Where's that? Across the desert? Who's going?  All of us? Wait, I better put some bread in the oven; we'll need something to knosh on the way.

          So who's going to lead us to this Canaan wherever it is?  Moses? Moses who?  What kind of name is that for a good Hebrew boy? That's him over there? Funny, he doesn't look Jewish."

          "Wait, I can't leave yet," she cried as they literally pulled her out the door. "you rushed me so much I forgot to put the yeast in the bread-- it'll be flat as a pancake."

That pretty much captures the spirit of this morning's reading from the Hebrew Scriptures.  The God of Israel-- through a spokesman who looks and talks like one of their oppressors-- is telling a Technicolor bunch of people, who aren't really a community and are united only by their common servitude and maybe by some shared stories of their distant ancestors--that they are going to become one.

          They are going to become one religion and one ethnic group and one community.  This God who many of them know by different names is going to make out of these many groups and tribes and families-- a nation.  This process of community building will begin with this ritual, a Feast of Salvation as a prelude to a wilderness journey to a land many of them only know in legend.

          But they've gotta leave right now.  They don’t even have time to leaven their bread dough and make it rise. They must slaughter the Paschal Lamb, mark their doorposts, roast and eat the meal on the run, rushed, with shoes on and staff in hand. Pharaoh will let the people go, but their window of escape is very narrow.  This sense of urgency is an important part of the story.

          The escape of the Hebrew people set in motion their epic pilgrimage through the wilderness—a generation-long folk migration that would transform these disparate group of families and small clans into a nation and lead them into the Promised Land, From that day forward, the Jewish people have annually celebrated the Passover that had launched their escape from bondage in Egypt—with this:”Feast of Unleavened Bread”.

          The meal is known as the "Seder" --which means "order"-- for the order of events recalled.  It is a meal filled with ritual”, says Rabbi Amy Katz “from the food you eat, to how you eat, to how you sit.”

At this meal—served in individual family homes, symbolic foods are served a various intervals to commemorate various aspects of the story. The youngest child begins the ritual, asking four traditional questions

                        Why is this night different from the other nights?

On all other nights, we eat leavened or unleavened bread. 
On this night we eat only unleavened bread.

On all other nights we eat all kinds of herbs.  
On this night we eat bitter herbs.

On all other nights we don’t dip even once.  
On this night we dip twice.

On all other nights we eat either seated or reclining. 
On this night we eat reclining.

The head of the household answers the questions, recalling once again the story of oppression, salvation from the power of death, liberation from slavery, exodus and freedom and hope.

                        We eat only unleavened bread tonight because there was no time in our rush to freedom to allow our bread dough to rise.  “So the people took us their dough before it was leavened, binding their kneading troughs in their clothes and placing them on their shoulders” (Exodus 12:33).

                    We eat especially bitter herbs tonight to taste again the bitterness of slavery.  “Egypt made the children of Israel to slave oppressively by making their lives bitter with hard work fashioning clay bricks and with all kinds of work in the field” (Exodus 1:13)

                              We dip our food twice this evening, once into saltwater to recall the tears shed in cruel slavery and bitter bondage, and we dip the harsh-        tasting horseradish into the sweet Charoset to remind us to keep our faith in God who changes our cries of sorrow into shouts of joy.

We recline about the table this evening to recall that while the Holy Temple stood in Jerusalem, everyone reclined on couches at the Passover supper to express their joy of being set free on this night.  If the Holy One had not brought our ancestors out of Egypt, then we and our children and our children’s children would still be slaves to a Pharaoh in Egypt.

Therefore, if we possessed all wisdom, and all understanding of the Sacred Scriptures, it would still be commanded of us to recount the events of our departure from Egypt.  And whoever recalls the most details about our Exodus from Egypt is the most worthy of all our praise.

 “[The Passover Seder] is the time when we remember, as recorded in the Book of Exodus, how we cried out to God when we were slaves and how God heard our cries and took us out of Egypt.’ Says Rabbi Amy Katz. “That’s a big story. It’s also the defining story of how we were born as a people, The purpose of the Seder is to make this story accessible to make this story accessible to everyone at the table in any way we can. They’ve got to get it, because it is our most important story.”

The promise of the Seder is reflected in a line from one of the traditional songs sung during the evening. It comes from the Mishnah and it says that in every generation, the Jewish people should see themselves as if they were slaves in Egypt. “You start out as a slave,” adds Rabbi Katz, “and at the end of the evening you are free.”

The closing of the Passover Seder is highlighted by a theme of

redemption, and humility, as well as a reminder that the joyous festival

is to be shared with the less fortunate.  The Prophet Elijah, symbol of the

humble wayfarer, is invited to enter the home through the symbolic opening

of a door to the house. The Cup of Elijah, filled with wine, is confirmation of

the hope of Elijah's arrival into the house. The Passover then ends with drinking

of the wine.

Everything said and done and eaten at the Seder carries a significant

symbolic meaning on the participants' mind and heart.  The re-telling of

the story and its rituals serve to remind each person of his/her importance,

enabling that person to adopt an attitude of profound gratitude. And, just

as importantly, the meal will widen the compassion and perspective of

each as a person in relationship to his/her fellow human beings.

The rabbis tell a story around the Passover. As the angels in heaven are singing and celebrating the drowning of Pharaoh’s army at the Sea of Reeds, they notice that God is not rejoicing, but in fact is weeping. When the heavenly host ask why the Creator sorrows, God reminds then that “the Egyptians are my children as well'.

          If you see parallels between Passover and our Christian Sacrament of Holy Communion-- it is no accident.  The two feasts are tied together. The Gospels make it clear that the Last Supper was a Seder.

          It's an oddity of history and language that only in the English speaking world is the liturgical celebration of Christ's Resurrection known by the old Anglo-Saxon name of "Easter".  Everywhere else in the world, that Season of the Church's year is known as "The Christian Passover". And the traditional method for calculation of the date of Easter each year is based of the date of Passover.

Certainly there are significant differences between the two feasts. But both Passover and the Sacrament are liturgical remembering--reliving of saving events that defeat death and hold the promise of new and Abundant life. 

These rememberings are so profound that we who take part in them do not simply recall the salvation of our ancestors-- like a student in a classroom. 

Nor do we relive our salvation-- like Civil War re-enactors. Those are events spoken of the past tense.  No, at the Seder and at the Table, you and I are invited by our Creator to participate (present tense!) once more in our own Salvation. It’s literally Salvation now.

Here at Christ's Altar, you and I are offered hope, offered strength, offered life, offered salvation, offered Christ's own Redeeming Presence--Now. Here, united in time and space with all faithful believers, the power of death passes over us, shielded as we are, by the blood of Jesus, our Paschal Lamb—Now.

Sisters and Brothers when you come to the Table this moving, and every morning, let come as our Jewish sisters and brothers come to their Table of Salvation. Let us come with our eyes open and eager to perceive the hand of God at work not only in our lives—but also in the world. Let us come--not only to the Table for solace--- but also for strength, not only for pardon—but also for renewal. And as we rise from the table, let us strive to live our whole lives in faith, in gratitude, in humility, in hope, with hearts and doors open to the wayfarer-- in prayer and concern—even for our enemy.  Amen.