How is this night different from all other nights?
Jews have been asking this iconic question for thousands of years on seder night. The mishna (Pesachim 10:4) describes this series of question asking as a core component of the seder ritual. And in many of our own seders, “Mah Nishtanah” is a highlight, one that even the youngest children learn how to ask.
And of course, seder night is meant to be different from all other nights. But I think this year, many of us are asking another, similar, yet different question: How is this year different from all other years? This is certainly the question that I am grappling with as I go into seder night, and there are several different ways that I'm thinking about that question.
First, I think about how different it is that there are still over one hundred and thirty hostages, held in Gaza, unable to celebrate freedom and liberation. Our people ache for their redemption; we are pained as a collective because of their captivity. This might be the holiday of our freedom, but we are not free if they are not free. Our redemption is not complete because they have yet to come home.
This year is also different from other years because we are at war. We are at war across the world with an ideology that seeks to destroy our ancestral homeland. Many of us have been concerned, on an existential level, about what this war means for our people. What will Israel look like in the future? Will we ever have partners for peace? But we also often find ourselves at odds even with those in our country that don’t understand who we are as a people. This year is different because many of us have found ourselves feeling alone when we thought we were more connected and supported.
And this year is different because of the mounting losses in Gaza. It has felt so complicated for many of us to relate to these devastating numbers. What does it mean for so many to die for our safety? How do we engage with the notion that families are losing loved ones - children, siblings, parents - because of their government and Israel’s response? This year I’ve been asking questions about how we hold our own devastating pain and also the pain of others. I haven’t had answers to these questions, but this year feels different because I can’t stop asking. I think we must be asking.
The text of the haggadah doesn't actually offer formal answers to the questions articulated in Mah Nishtanah. This year, we may not have answers to our most important questions. But seder night is meant to be one of grappling with the biggest questions our world is pushing us to ask - every year, and especially this year. I hope that your seders this year are full of meaningful conversation and hard question-asking. And I pray that in the year to come, our lives will reflect answers to those questions, bringing peace, redemption, and safety to all who need it.
Wishing you and your families each a chag kasher v’Sameach Rabbi Sarit
