This year, we’ve lost a lot, we’ve endured a lot, and we’ve learned a lot. But our prayer remains the same
Those last few nights of cleaning and scrubbing, taping and covering, we’re a nation moving to a rhythm.
It’s not just the actual music vibrating in kitchens and wafting out windows everywhere you walk. It’s an anticipation for our shared holiday of redemption. What we sometimes forget is that the very first Pesach was an act of faith. The redemption had not yet happened.
Back on that evening in Egypt, we celebrated freedom while still technically enslaved. We celebrated Hashem passing over us, sparing us from suffering, before the selection had begun. We celebrated our deliverance from the bitter times before our cruel master had declared them over.
Many Pesachs have been celebrated since that first evening in Egypt, when a nascent nation sat down to mark a liberation yet to occur. During those subsequent Pesachs, we were able to retell the thrilling miracles that accompanied us on our journey out of enslavement. We could revel in our liberty to answer only to the Creator. We celebrated our privileged position of firstborn son, apple of our Father’s eye.
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