Our Pain is Our Strength

There we were, gathered around the table: a musician, a stand-up comedian, an award-winning journalist, an Olympic medalist, an actress… and me, with a dog-tag proclaiming that my heart is held hostage in Gaza, and a t-shirt bearing a hostage symbol and Rachel Goldberg’s powerful message: “Hope is Mandatory.” What was I doing there? Sitting at a recording for a televised model seder with a panel of famous people, I felt sorely out of place.

Until each panelist opened their mouth, that is.

Without exception, whether responding to the simple question “How are you”, or a deeper question about Passover, the first thing everyone spoke about was the hostages, and the struggle to celebrate freedom while we have 59 brothers and sisters who are not free. This created an immediate sense of kinship between us, but it took me a few hours to appreciate just how remarkable this was. Perhaps I’ve come to take it for granted that everyone here has been thinking about the hostages all the time for the last year and a half.

But it shouldn’t be taken for granted and Passover is precisely the time to appreciate how powerful this reality is. What an incredible privilege to be part of a people with such soulful solidarity. What a wonder it is in our sometimes cold and disconnected world to see what a deep and visceral connection we all have to one another. What a miracle it is that we feel such pain.

Passover teaches us that we are not meant to try to celebrate despite our pain, beside our pain, or even through it. We are actually called upon to celebrate our pain. The command to eat bitter herbs and the bread of our affliction, and to dip our food in salt water and mortar- all this is not just about remembering the hard times we once went through. The first time that the Jewish people ate their sacrifice with matza and maror – they were not yet free. They were still in Egypt, still under Pharaoh, living through terrifying times. Indeed, for much of Jewish history, the miracle of the exodus was commemorated by Jews living with oppression and fear. We celebrate not only our redemption but also our suffering, so that we understand that this experience is what has made us who we are today, what has ingrained deep into our national DNA a concern for the weak and oppressed, and an aspiration to create a just and caring society. Our enemies might mistakenly think that this pain is our great weakness, that our softness for one another is our Achilles’ heel. Sadly, the pain and loss of the last year and a half may even have caused some of us to think this way, to resent our compassion and to think that our survival depends on our ability to overcome it. But the opposite is true. This pain we feel, our inability to fully celebrate Passover this year- it is our greatest strength, because it is an expression of our overriding belief in the power of the human spirit, and our profound commitment to the infinite value of human life. It is a strength that we have seen confirmed and embodied in the figure of hostages who have returned and reported that what gave them hope was seeing the masses of people fighting for them, praying for them, hurting for them. And it is this strength that can provide us with the mandatory hope that we require to bring home 59 hostages so that their pain, and our pain, can turn to joy and celebration.