The Together /Apart Seders

My  sister-in-law Suzanne’s dear-departed mother once said:

“It should be a crime for families to be apart.”

It feels criminal now that we, who celebrate this holiday of Passover, centered in the home, and the quintessential holiday of our peoplehood, our ethics, our love of Torah, family, rituals and traditions, are celebrating scattered like matzoh crumbs. 

The time of being at one table, the time of having the youngest child ask the Four Questions, the time of laughing at the macho men choking on the moror (bitter herbs), and trying not to choke, or tear up from the heat, the time of even children getting a little shicker (drunk) because of the four glasses of wine), are all now in virtual reality; and in our memories of the real reality. Now all of us are eating whatever we can cook, having a Seder plate laden with whatever was availbale at the store, or online (for those of us who don’t shop for ourselves); this is now how we celebrate. 

We certainly can read the story of the Exodus, say the blessings, see each other’s Seder plates, Seder tables, each other’s faces. We can hear the laughter, the discussions, examine the search for meaning in the themes:  welcome the stranger, let all who are hungry come and eat, stand for freedom, stand for justice. 

However, we can only imagine the hugs, the deliciousness of shared food, the desire to sing together (it's impossible to coordinate singing virtually without edits). So this covid-19 plague time will, hereafter, be part of our “telling” every year at Pesach. And in addition to the last line in the Haggadah being “Next Year in Jerusalem”, we will say Next Year Together.