It starts with a question: what makes this night different from every other night?
In Jewish tradition, the Seder is a yearly celebration of Passover. For those who aren't familiar with it, the full story of Passover can be found in the book of Exodus. Here's a quick overview:
The Israelites were being held as slaves in Egypt. God sent Moses to deliver a message to Pharaoh: "Let my people go." Pharaoh refused to free them. God sent down plague after plague upon Egypt, but still Pharaoh refused to free the Israelites. Then Moses warned his people that the final plague was coming. They were to paint their doorframes with the blood of a lamb and stay inside, for that night the angel of death would sweep over Egypt and strike down every firstborn. Pharaoh received this warning, and yet he did nothing. It was only after his own firstborn son was struck down that he freed the Israelites from slavery.
Passover night serves as both a celebration and a reminder. A celebration of God's people being freed from slavery; a reminder that not everyone is free today. A celebration of when God's wrath 'passed over' his people; a reminder to keep the faith.
I've had the great joy of attending a few Seder meals in years past. Last night, I was invited to one in my university housing, hosted by my Jewish friend Rachel. There were six of us crowded around the table, all from different countries, all with different beliefs. But there was no arguing, no debating, no irreverence. We poured wine for each other, said prayers together, sang songs, and listened as Rachel shared her traditions with us. The kind of love and respect present among friends meant no one made fun of or questioned the ceremonies. Instead, we were grateful to be a part of the celebration.
One of the traditions of Seder is to end the night by saying, "Next year in Jerusalem!" This sentence has a little bit of nuance to it - it isn't just a way of saying, "Next year, we'll celebrate together in the Holy Land!" It's a declaration of hopeful expectation. Think of it this way: Seder involves drinking four glasses of wine for ceremonial purposes. But there is always an extra glass set aside, untouched, for Elijah (and another for Ruth, which is a recent addition). The door is left open in hopeful expectation that the Prophet Elijah will come in during the meal, heralding the arrival of the Messiah.
Next year, we'll leave the sorrows of this world behind. Next year, we'll celebrate together in the presence of God.
I attended my first Seder in Jerusalem. It was 2015, and my family was part of a large group touring Biblical sites in Israel. We stayed in Jerusalem for several days, in a church compound in the Christian quarter, and one night the church led us through the ceremony. Forty of us lounging together, nineteen-year-old Annie trying different wines for the first time, the joy of fellowship bubbling over in every one of us. Peace and contentment. Quiet reverence. Love and affection.
I would go back to Israel in a heartbeat. Every time I hear the phrase, "Next year in Jerusalem", I think of wading in the Jordan river, watching strangers get baptized. I think of our tour group singing the Doxology together in St. Anne's church, so moved by the harmony of our voices that it left a few of us crying by the pools of Bethesda. I think of children running through fountains in the park across from Jaffa Gate, of the view of the city from the Mount of Olives, of taking communion by Jesus' grave.
I think of our trip leader, raising a glass of wine at the end of Seder and declaring, "Next year in Jerusalem!" Next year, let's all be together again. Next year, let's laugh and pray and sit side by side.
It's the knowledge that someday, all the empty spaces will be filled. Pain will be met with healing, fear will be met with comfort, grief will be met with love. Every evil and terrible thing will be undone. It's a longing for this day, for Elijah to run through the open door and say, "He's here! It's time!" It's a yearning set deep in the heart for it to come quickly.
The first time around, the Israelites huddled inside to hide from the angel of death. This year, we stayed inside to stop the spread of Coronavirus. Next year, let's agree to meet in Jerusalem.