Passover: the ethic behind the epic
A brief Pesach note on welcome, difference, and making room at the table
Chag Sameach! Wishing everyone a meaningful Passover, full of reflection, rest, and chocolate-covered matzah.
And don’t worry: despite being a marketer, I’m not gonna turn this into a case study about how a 1932 coffee promo campaign somehow led to 60 million copies of the Maxwell House Haggadah. That miracle can wait.
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Early in the Seder comes a line worth digesting: “Let all who are hungry come and eat.”
It appears before the big cinematic stuff -- before Charlton Heston parts the Red Sea, and before a pack of ravenous six-year-old second cousins starts rummaging through grandma’s sock drawer like skibidi matzah bandits.
But the line lands. Especially now.
A resonant refrain à la “This Land is Your Land, This Land is My Land.”
It’s the ethic behind the epic; an invitation to inclusion in the broadest sense...
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An invite to what, you ask? (NOT one of the 4 FAQs -- I mean, questions.)
At the very least, to welcome the stranger.
To scoot down and make a little room for difference.
To give varying views a “seat at the table.”
Doesn’t mean agreeing, or pretending we’re all on the same side -- of whatever.
But it might mean acting vaguely civil and hearing them out.
Seeing others as people, not hashtags, worthy of sharing the ancient ritual of breaking bread -- err, the opposite of bread -- and together, at long last, kvetching about the room temperature.
Wishing all celebrating a restful + thoughtful Pesach.