Right now, the world is in the middle of a public health crisis due to COVID-19, the illness caused by the novel coronavirus which emerged in December 2019 in China. In some ways, it could be said we are dealing with two crises: the disease itself, and a refusal of responsibility by our leaders and our neighbors.

As we sit here tonight, safe in our homes, we should take a moment to acknowledge those who are unable to do so--those who are essential workers at grocery stores and pharmacies, or who are on the front lines fighting the pandemic in our hospitals.

Jews are no strangers to the idea of sacrifice. In every age, someone has risen up against us, and we have made sacrifices to survive, and to see the Jewish people come through the other side. In other times, we have had to give up all of our possesions, as we did when we fled Egypt, or have had to hide our faith, as we did during the Inquisitions. But through it all, one thing that we as Jews have never sacrificed is our values, our identity as a people. We have maintained our beliefs and our traditions--which is why we will all forgo  chametz  for the next week, despite our ancestors living on manna from heaven. 

Passover is, at its core, a holiday about 2 values:  tzedek, or justice, and  achraiyut, responsibility. Passover brings with it a number of responsibilities, from telling the story to eating the bitter herbs in commemoration of slavery, to welcoming the stranger and letting those who are hungry join the meal. 

The Torah says this about our obligation to tell the Passover story: "And you shall tell your child on that day, saying, 'It is because of what the Lord did for me when I went forth from Egypt'. And it shall be for a sign unto you upon your hand, and for a memorial between your eyes, that the law of God may be in your mouth; for with a mighty hand did God bring you out of Egypt (Exodus 13:8)

The Hebrew word for Egypt, mitzrayim, translates literally to "the narrow place". We are responsible for telling the story as if we, personally, were delivered from Egypt to remind us all that our liberation is incomplete--we are not all free from the "narrow place", from narrow-minded thinking or man-made crises. There are too many in this world still in chains--child slavery and human trafficking remain huge problems worldwide, and those in poverty are chainted to a system which is stacked against them. They are not free from fear, or from hunger, or from preventable illness. Our most vulnerable communities are most impacted by climate change and pandemics. Racism, homophobia, transphobia, sexism, Islamaphobia, and anti-Semitism are plagues upon our society. As Jews, we must recognize these injustices, and remember that it is only by standing together that we can continue the work of liberation begun when we set forth from Egypt.

But this year, we will be standing together...from 6 feet apart.

One responsibility we have as Jews is  bikur cholim, caring for the sick. But right now, one of the best things we can do is try to keep people from getting sick in the first place. For many of us, this has meant staying home as much as possible, limiting our trips to the store, working from home, and keeping our distance from people while out in public. Social distancing guidelines have meant that many of us have not had in-person interactions with anyone but those we live with, aside from the occasional grocery store clerk. That is fundamentall difficult, because people are social creatures by nature. We need each other. And it is also difficult because in many ways, our obligation right now is to  not  do things. Most of the time, when we are called upon in crisis, we are called upon to act. Today, we are called upon to wait. When we ask why tonight is different from all other nights, there are many reasons beyond the matzo and marror. There is the fact that we are doing Seder virtually this year. There is the fact that many of us have not had physical contact with another person in weeks. There is the fact that we may, in fact, feel trapped in our current situation. 

But tonight, we will begin the journey out of  Mitzrayim  once again. We will confront the barriers to  tzedek, to justice, that we as Jews are called upon to challenge. We will be there for each other, from far away. And we will continue the traditions that our families have passed on, from generation to generation. 

And perhaps in the end, we don't need next year in Jerusalem. We just need next year, together.


haggadah Section: Maggid - Beginning