First Temple fell and our people were carried to Babylon, it could have marked the end. Instead, Judaism became portable. Prayer replaced sacrifice. Study stood above sovereignty. The home became sanctified as an incubator of sacred responsibility.
When a later generation returned to Israel and laid the cornerstone of the Second Temple, the Book of Ezra reads:“ And all the people gave a great shout of praise to the Lord, because the foundation of the house of the Lord was laid. But many of the older priests and Levites and family heads, who had seen the former Temple, wept aloud when they saw the foundation of this Temple being laid, while many others shouted for joy. No one could distinguish the sound of the shouts of joy from the sound of weeping”( Ezra 3:11 – 13). In this scene of mingled sound, some wept, remembering what had been lost. Others shouted for joy at what might yet be built. The noise of sorrow and hope blended together until no one could distinguish one from the other.
Tonight’ s Seder preserves this layered consciousness. We recline like free people, yet we lift the bread of affliction. We dip foods into salt water, recalling the tears of sorrow as much as the those of gratitude for redemption tasted. Like the generation of Ezra, we hold grief and hope in a single breath.
In different eras, Jews recognized symbols of hope in the lands to which they journeyed. For many who crossed oceans in earlier generations,
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