By Sam Richardson, Director, Jewish Community Relations, Jewish Community Federation of Richmond
I am struck by the contrast of who is not included in the traditional Passover story – and who is encouraged to be a part of the eternal story.
As is commonly known, Moses our Teacher, is not mentioned in the telling of the story that has been passed down to us through the generations.
Rather, Moses is included in our multitude of ancestors who “ate the bread of affliction” in the Land of Egypt.
Also note that, just as Moses is absorbed into Am (“people” or “nation”) Yisrael, each of us is to regard ourselves as present at that first Passover, eating roasted lamb, gathering our belongings, and making such haste that there was not time for our bread to rise.
Indeed, the only time we use the first-person singular “I” is when we are commanded to teach our children of what “…the Eternal did for me, when I went forth from Egypt…” And then immediately after, “He brought us forth in order to bring us into the land which He swore to our ancestors.”
Similarly, we are encouraged to place ourselves – each one – into the role of each of the four types of children: the wise, the wicked, the simple, and the one who doesn’t even know how to ask.
Finally, when we reach the end of the Seder, together with one voice we proclaim, “L’Shana Haba’ah B’Yerushalayim” – Next Year in Jerusalem! It’s all about the Am.
Through the entire reading of the Haggadah, as a people – around the table and throughout time – we engage with the oppressor Pharoah, trust Hashem for deliverance from those who would destroy us, and celebrate redemption by our Creator.
Thus, having lived through the Exodus once again, we can say in unison, “Am Yisrael Chai” – the People of Israel Live.
Just a few weeks ago, in my capacity as Director of the Jewish Community Relations Committee for the Richmond Community Federation, I had the honor of spending some time with families of our hostages still held in Gaza.
They told those gathered of their sons, nephews, cousins, fathers, and brothers.
Mishel Michael Iluz shared with us the recording of his last phone call with his son, Guy Iluz (his poster is in my office), as he was trying to escape the terrorists. This brought a sense of reality for which I was not prepared… and was reminded of when reading in the Torah of Moses’ reaction to one of our own being beaten by an Egyptian (Exodus 2.11-12).
I have a new sense of sympathy for Moses. I also had a brief, but very meaningful conversation with Ofir Angrest, brother of Matan Angrest. We had an instant connection, and I was telling him that he was such a good brother for sharing the story of Matan with Jews around the world.
“I don’t know that I’m a good brother,” he replied.
I gave him a hug and told him I understand exactly what he means as I have also felt helpless to make a difference since October 7.
When we asked these beautiful people what we can do but listen, two of the mothers in the group told us that there are two things we can do: 1) Help them heal by telling their stories; 2) Live as Jews.
It’s all about the Am.
