Pesach In Galus
Walking back from shul after Shabbos, one of my congregants lamented that the Pesach tour he had booked in Israel had been canceled because of the war. He counted the number of families who were now facing the challenge of finding a program somewhere in America or another international destination. I commented with neither sarcasm nor rancor that such are the realities of galus—being a Jew in exile. We cannot get to the Holy Land, so we’re forced to find a resort in the Diaspora.
We continued our conversation. He’s a fine fellow, a wealthy man, and enjoys attending the yom tovprograms that offer gourmet meals, great entertainment, singers and comedians, and some reputable Torah scholars. He was going to have to scramble now because most of the programs were already full and any open spaces were subject to competitive bids of all who were unable to travel to Eretz Yisrael.
He asked me if I had ever gone away for Pesach and I told him that a few times, when my late father-in-law had been Rav HaMachshir (certifying rabbi) at one of the most exclusive resorts, a magnificent place where most of the guests arrived by private jets, I had driven to the resort with my family for one day of chol hamoedjust to spend the day with my wife’s parents and relatives. My friend marveled that I had been to that fabled resort and regaled me with a rundown of how the tea room, barbecues, and breakfasts were compared to other programs. I asked him how the sedarim were compared to the others and he recalled the various chazzanim that led public sedarim in addition to the private sedarim conducted by the individual guests. We laughed at the menu options—quinoa-coated sushi, potato starch buns for the hamburgers and hotdogs, endless varieties of herring and chocolate well before anyone knew about the famous Dubai chocolates.
And I said it again: there’s a message here waiting to be learned when facing this reality of being a Jew in the 21st century unable to make it to Eretz Yisrael for yom tov. Clearly, it’s a reminder that we’re still in galusand the time has not yet come to be redeemed, free to return to our nation during the geulah. But I also shared a teaching from the great Chassidic master, Rabbi Moshe Tzvi of Savran (died in 1837). During the terrible pogroms and persecutions in Ukraine during his lifetime, some of his disciples asked if they should venture on to Eretz Yisrael to settle the land. He advised his Chassidim that those who live in the Diaspora with a lifestyle of holiness—an “Eretz Yisrael lifestyle”—will survive in the galus and eventually reach the Holy Land to continue with that sanctified way of living. Those living in the Diaspora by a more assimilated lifestyle, even if they pledge to consecrate themselves once in Israel, will struggle to adjust there. To get to Israel, he taught, we must live now as if we are already there. Living now by a lower standard will not guarantee your religious survival when trying to adapt there.
My friend thought about this, and asked me where I was spending Pesach. I laughed and told him that I was indeed “spending” quite a lot on Pesach, but was also spending it at home with my family. I talked about the sedarim, which my wife and I plan out weeks in advance, with all the meticulous preparations as befitting the yom tov, and how we give our children the knowledge that Pesach is not about theme parks, even Pharaoh’s Lost Kingdom, with its vague allusions to the story of the Exodus, and it’s not about chol hamoed events if they overshadow the importance of the sedarim. I asked him if he might consider staying home this year, to davenwith us in shul, attend some inspiring Torah lectures, and maybe even take turns being the chazzan at our minyan. To my surprise, he agreed.
He will be spending yom tov locally, and surely spending as much as a program would require, but with the benefits of being at home. Such are the great sacrifices we make while in galus! nRabbi Dr. Dovid Fox is a forensic and clinical psychologist, and director of Chai Lifeline Crisis Services. To contact Chai Lifeline’s 24-hour crisis helpline, call 855-3-CRISIS or email [email protected]. Learn more at ChaiLifeline.org/crisis
