I have no start date for a first Passover memory. But I can trace the first inklings of Pesach via my sense of smell. Whenever the kitchen begins to fill with the aromas of brisket, chicken soup, and matza balls, I am transported to another time, a naïve, preverbal Edenic realm.
In psychoanalysis, this concept came to be known as thalassic regression. It is understood as a metaphorical way of representing the primal human need to return to a state of comfort and security, often associated with early infancy, the mother figure, and the return to the womb. It can be interpreted as a broader symbol of the desire for a sense of oneness and wholeness.
Yep. That’s it, alright. The scent of matzah balls cooking, tightly sealed in the pot of soup, and the saltwater perfectly represent the womb. And the karpas, dipped in the salt water, all lead to life renewed. I am pointed back to the earliest moments of peace and serenity. This is remarkably meaningful and metaphorically delightful because these feelings of wholeness and wonder are central to the Passover experience. Finally, achieving redemption after wandering and slavery leads us to joy.
I know. Of course, there are plenty of Pesach symbols of woe and bitterness, like maror and haroset. But you don’t have to wander too far to find
The messages of Passover are so multi-layered and dynamic. On one level, we revel in our origin story from ancient times that defines who we are: a people who emerged from the bottom of the heap and rose to the top. A people redeemed by God then accompanied to the Promised Land. Zoom in a bit, and we see a story of individual struggle, ripping off shackles of spiritual and physical enslavement: addiction, PTSD, depression, and more. If our forebearers, with their limited sense of self, could nonetheless get it together to see a future, then why not us? And then there’s the ongoing saga of a broken world and our obligation to help fix it. In our privilege, our bubble of relative prosperity and safety, don’t we have the obligation to pay it forward? Passover reminds us of our covenant with God and our fellow human beings. As the great Jewish poet Emma Lazarus wrote in 1883, “Until all of us are free, none of us are free.”
Whatever your first memory is of Passover, I hope it’s a good one. The scent of holiday food and the promise of gathering around the table inspire you. Whether your seder is 4 hours or 25 minutes, the very fact that you’ve decided to make the time to reflect on all of these is, well, dayeinu.
The Stern Gang wishes you a zissen Pesach, a sweet Passover!
Before Shabbat 