Passover comes but once a year. It only feels more frequent. Generally, it falls around Easter time--a semi-well-known little-known fact is that the Last Supper was actually a Seder (the traditional Passover feast). Due to the vagaries of the Hebrew calendar, though, it may come slightly earlier or later. Once in the early '40s it fell in November. One year had no Passover at all but three Yom Kippurs and a score of Arbor Days. But we digress. This year, it begins on Monday, March 29.
Passover, of course, celebrates the Jewish people's liberation from Egyptian bondage. As a Yeshiva boy, the Solipsist endured the full Passover experience every year; it was the price we paid for a week off. We remember well the Passover assemblies, replete with readings of the hagaddah, a mini-Seder (more on this below), and accordion-accompanied revelry.
We always enjoyed "Dayenu," (pronounced 'die-YAY-noo'). "Dayenu," roughly translated as "It would have been sufficient," expresses thanks for all that God did for the Jewish people. Each verse describes something God did and is followed by the chorus, which, in its entirety, is as follows:
"Die-die-yenu!
Die-die-yenu!
Die-die-yenu!
Dayenu, dayenu, dayenu!"
It would have been sufficient.
So, for example, we sing (in Hebrew, of course) something to the effect of, "If God had liberated us from slavery, but He had not executed justice upon the Egyptians, it would have been sufficient! . . . . If He had parted the Red Sea, but He had not led us through the desert, it would have been sufficient!" And so on. It's sung to a jaunty, kid-friendly melody, and the chorus is especially rousing.
"Die-die-yay-nu!
Die-die-yay-nu!
Die-die-yay-nu!
Dayenu, dayenu, dayenu!"
We had great fun with that. Of course, our Hebrew, despite seven years of Yeshiva, was never more than rudimentary at best. Thus, when singing the verses, we always kind of faked it:
"mumble, mumble cacciatore
mumble, mumble dig a pony
Mango chutney,
Rice-a-roni,
DIE-YAY-NOOOO!"
The only real problem with "Dayenu" is the length: slightly longer than the extended version of "Stairway to Heaven," slightly shorter than the epic of Gilgamesh. By the time you get to, like, verse 14, the meaning of "Dayenu" has gradually morphed from "It would have been sufficient" to "Enough already!"
The singing didn't make up for the food, either. The traditional Passover meal has certain standard components: An egg, a chicken leg, maror (bitter herbs), and charoset. The egg and the chicken leg are relatively inoffensive if unexciting. The maror symbolizes the tears shed by the Israelites during their captivity: At our Yeshiva, we approximated this with lettuce dipped in saltwater. Unappetizing, we know, but positive ambrosia compared with charoset, which is meant to symbolize the mortar used to put together the pyramids; it's a concoction of fruit and nuts mushed up with red wine. On the face of it, that may not sound so bad, but trust us, the flavor and texture are reminiscent of nothing so much as baby barf, only not as appetizing. You know you're in trouble with any meal whose most gustatorily satisfying component is Matzoh.
Ah, Matzoh! Nothing says Passover like those end-of-aisle displays of Manischewitz and Streit's Matzoh. Matzoh, too, is symbolic. When Pharaoh finally caved and let the Israelites go, he essentially told them to clear out fast--so fast that they didn't have time for their bread to rise. ("Dear God, thanks for freeing us from slavery, but couldn't you have given us enough time to make proper bread? Dayenu!") As a result, we commemorate the emancipation by eating unleavened bread.
Matzoh--essentially Saltines without all the flavor--holds a special place in the heart of any Jewish kid. Sure, it's bland, but spread a little butter and sprinkle some salt and you've got yourself a feast. (And compared to charoset, it's filet mignon.) How much do Jews like matzoh? Well, to give you an idea, after the main meal, the youngest child hunts for the afikomen--a half-piece of matzoh that was wrapped in a napkin and hidden before the meal. So, after a matzoh-filled Seder, what's for dessert? That's right, folks: MORE MATZOH! (OK, the kid usually gets a dollar for finding the afikomen, too; insert your own money-grubbing Jews joke here.)
It's not just about eating Matzoh, either. We Jews take our symbolism seriously. It's not enough to eat unleavened bread: Any trace of leavening--referred to generically as chametz--must be removed from our households, terminated with extreme prejudice. Not as simple as you might think. (Is anything in Judaism as simple as you might think?) Because to abide by the rules of Passover, one must do more than simply toss the Pepperidge Farm products and refrain from buying more 'til the holiday is done; one must pro-actively ensure that one's dwelling is chametz-free by conducting a chametz search!
Here's how:
(Digresion: You didn't really think it was just a matter of walking around the house calling out, "Pssss, pssss, pssss. Here, Chametz. Here, Boy. EOD)
(Additional digression: Chametz, Afikomen, and Charoset would be good names for cats. EOAD)
1. Gather the following materials: A candle, a feather, and some old newspaper.
2. Seriously, gather those materials. We are not kidding.
3. Take a piece of bread and tear it into ten pieces.
4. Place these pieces strategically around the house. This will ensure that your search for chametz will not be in vain; there's nothing worse than a fruitless search for chametz! (And God help you--literally--if at the end of your search you've found only nine pieces!)
5. Say a prayer.
6. Light your candle.
7. Douse the lights. For some reason, a chametz search must not be conducted in a well-lighted room. That takes all the fun out of it.
8. When you find a piece of chametz, use the feather to sweep it into the piece of newspaper.
9. Seriously. We are not making this up.
10. When all the chametz has been found, bundle it up and say another prayer, the gist of which is, "Look, God, I did my best. If there's any chametz left in the house, please don't strike me dead."
11. The next morning, burn the chametz.
Why a feather? Why a candle? Why not a Dustbuster? We don't know. Nor do we have statistics on the number of Orthodox Jews admitted to burn wards every Passover due to chametz searches gone awry.
So Happy Passover everyone! Clean out the chametz, stomach the charoset, and when the Seder starts to lag, just break into a few rousing choruses of. . . Dayenu!
