ArsCompendium - Digital Scribes For The New Millenium

Users Online

1 User Online

A Seder To Forget

Read more articles on Religion and Let Me Share With You.

April 3, 2007

About This Editor: Karen has enjoyed her many varied experiences in corporate business management, dance education, and preschool assistance. She hopes to write about these past lives-and more-from her home in Pittsburgh, PA, where she lives with her husband, daughter, and 3 cats.

263 Views

Submit this article to the following social bookmark news sites:

Happy Passover to all of my Jewish friends and readers.

I hope that you had a pleasant Seder. Mine seemed like it belonged in a sitcom.

To digress a bit, those of you who regularly follow my writing already know that I grew up Christian-so my failure to produce an erstwhile holiday dinner isn’t totally my fault. For the last couple of years, I’ve been trying. Before then, my family either ate at relatives’ or went to private Seders that temple friends held. It never seemed to work out that I’ve been able to attend a “real” Seder that lasts all evening and follows an actual haggadah. I keep hoping that someday I’ll get that chance, but in the meantime, I do my best at attempting to create some memories of this holiday for my daughter.

Last year was my first big attempt, and I had my in-laws and father over, as well as one of my daughter’s friends. The girls got dressed up, had parts to read, and opened the door for Elijah, which I guess made it somewhat official, but the older generation seemed more concerned about eating than listening. And, since no one but me drinks wine, I felt rather lonely being the sole imbiber at the “drink another glass of wine” parts. (But I didn’t let that stop me from adhering to the custom!) It wasn’t too bad, I guess, but I rather expected to have a better one this year.

Hah.

Falling on a workday this year, it made it difficult for my in-laws to attend, and so they didn’t. My father, who thought it was all mildly interesting last year, didn’t feel like experiencing cross-town, rush hour traffic, either. By the time we were aware of this, it was too late to invite other relatives, and disregarding the whole thing started to look appealing.

However, I pushed forward; it’s not the size of the party, it’s the spirit, right? Just to let you know, if I hadn’t set the dining room table in the middle of the day, you can be sure we’d be eating to the dulcet tones of the evening news. You can forget the concept of dressing for the occasion, too. Putting everything in serving bowls for just the three of us did cross my mind as a bit fancy, but my mother did so every night, so I shouldn’t complain. However, I still had to listen to comments about setting the house on fire when I lit the candles, especially since it was still as bright as all get out at 6:30.

Some folks just aren’t into atmosphere.

In any event, I made a nice Seder plate which was largely ignored by two of of the three diners. My husband turned down the parsley and lettuce dipped in salt water, while my daughter tried to feed both to the one of the cats. Neither wanted to try the charoset-I thought it was delish-and my hubby complained that I had used one of the hard boiled eggs that he was saving for something else. My daughter refused to touch the matzah, claiming it “has no taste”- to which the response of today’s kids says it all: “Duh”. (I told her she’d never have made it wandering through a desert for 40 years.) No one wanted to read from my haggadah-abbreviated as it was-so I had the starring role, and tried to read quickly to keep their attention. It was not something I would have wanted guests to have attended, but if we had guests, it would have been different. I think.

Yes, I’m disappointed. There is nothing in Catholic tradition that’s similar to a Seder, and I’ve always wondered why more Christians don’t acknowledge the significance of the Last Supper being a Seder, and have one for that reason alone.

It’s really a beautiful tradition to remind us about the past, and it’s a shame that, at least in my family, it’s not given more solemnity and significance. I’m the one that tries to make it special, yet I’m the only one who’s not Jewish by birth-go figure.

Many people, at the close of Seder, say “Next year in Israel” (or Jerusalem). As far as I’m concerned, I’ll be happy if next year I can keep everyone else’s attention for longer than two minutes. Happy Pesach.