When you look outside, what do you see? The market, wagons, horses, people running in all directions.? Fifty years from now the market will be completely different, with different horses and wagons, different merchandise and different people. I won't be here and you won't be here. Then let me ask you now: How come you are so busy and preoccupied that you don't even have time to look up at the sky? -Kochvey Ohr
Thursday, March 30, 2017
Passover 28
The Eighth Day of Passover has no special rules. It might even seem anticlimactic. But Jewish tradition, and especially Hasidic Tradition, has made it into a climax. As I pointed out in one of my posts about the Seder, although the immediate emphasis is on past events, the future is also a factor. (Next Year in Jerusalem!). Prayers for the restoration of the Temple are also present. The Eighth Day is the flip side of this, when the historical makes way for the history that is yet to be. The Prophetic reading (Haftarah) prescribed in the Talmud for that day is Isaiah 11 and 12, which speaks of the coming of the Messiah (although the word is not actually used); a descendant of David, who will gather in the exiles from all lands, and reunite the alienated portions of our people. Peace will reign. From a Jewish standpoint, this is THE central Messianic prophecy; a great Prophet and Teacher, who will gather the exiles, and usher in a period of universal Peace. Any claimant to that title must fulfill these things, or is simply to be regarded as an imposter. One of the frustrations of our long exile is not only that the Messiah has not yet arrived, but that strangers sit on his throne. As far as Jewish tradition goes, that reading from Isaiah tells it all. We are being reminded not to lose hope, Deliverance is coming. Hasidic tradition took this much further. Every holiday would conclude with a meal (or other celebration) extending into the night after the festival. This was at once to savor another hour or two of the joyous occasion but was also seen as "illuminating the darkness" ahead, with the light of the Holy Day. (This has long been a feature in most communities for the end of Shabbat). But the last day of Passover is different. Many Hasidic communities call this "The Meal of the Mashiach". The Rebbes encourage their flock to keep faith strong. The Egyptian Exile had lasted for centuries, and when Moses announced that deliverance was here, few believed him. The reality of deliverance is emphasized. Chabad Hassidim actually drink four cups of wine at this meal. At the Seder, these symbolized the past redemption. But now, they are a symbol of a new deliverance that is surely coming. Often, a famous letter, purportedly from the Baal Shem Tov, written to his brother in law, Rabbi Gershon Kitover, describing a vision he had had, is discussed. In this vision, the Baal Shem Tov saw the Messiah. "When are you coming?" he asked. The Messiah responded "when your wellsprings overflow into the world". In other words, when a more spiritual understanding of Judaism, as taught by Hasidism, is accepted, Mashiach will come. Historians doubt the authenticity of this letter, but its message rings true nevertheless. These are, to say the least, comforting words. It is interesting to note that Moroccan Jews have a similar institution called the Mimouna. It is held the night after Passover. Hametz food is served, especially traditional pastries, and fried wraps called mufletas, which the participants fill with either jam or butter and honey The rabbis speak words of encouragement and faith. (Mimouna is derived from the Arabic word for "Faith"). The tradition is rapidly spreading to other communities. Should you walk by a Mimouna celebration, you can expect to be dragged in, dressed in North African garb, and stuffed until you can hardly walk.There are culinary differences for the Hasidim as well on the Eight Day. As I have discussed earlier, most Hasidim observe a tradition of not eating matzah that has become wet. (No matzah balls, etc). This is known as gebruchs. This has little (if any) halachic basis, and was denounced and mocked by non-Hasidic rabbis for many years. (I do not observe this, and urge others not to follow this absurd stringency). Today,however, it has become almost standard in most ultra-Orthodox communities. For seven days, the matzah is kept covered on the table, for fear that a crumb might fall into the soup. But on the Eight Day, not only is wet matzah permitted, but it becomes a sort of ritual. In some groups, a huge bowl of soup is brought to the table, with forty-nine matzah balls in it. The number forty-nine is an obvious reference to the Omer period. The Omer, brought on the second day of Passover, consisted of barley, which was primarily an animal food. After the Omer period, on the holiday of Shavu'ot. two loaves of hametz wheat bread were offered. This is a symbol of transformation. The transition from no wet matzah, to the deliberate, ceremonial wetting of the matzah, has many interpretations. But most obvious is the transformation from a strictness born of concern for possible transgression (no matter how unlikely), to a confidence that we live under Divine Providence, where soon even the dreaded hametz will become not only permissible, but an actual Divine service. Oppression shifts to Redemption. Next year in rebuilt Jerusalem!
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