As a child, one of my favorite parts of the Seder was when we would open our dining room door for Elijah. I remember looking out into the dark of our backyard, half expecting to see him, wondering how it would be possible to travel to every Seder in the world over the course of one evening.
When I was older, I studied the Haggadah more carefully and I learned that the liturgy of this part of the Seder was more challenging than I had realized. Sometime after the Crusades, probably in the 12th century or so, a paragraph made up of verses from the Psalms and the Book of Lamentations was added that ask for God to “pour out Your fury (שְׁפֹךְ חֲמָתְךָ)” on the nations who have oppressed us. From the pain and trauma of witnessing whole communities destroyed by the Crusaders on their way to “liberate” the Holy Land, the rabbis added these words as both an expression of sorrow and loss, as well as a prayer for God’s deliverance from antisemitism and the terrible violence that so often accompanies it.
Over the past year, we’ve seen the disturbing uptick in antisemitism in America and around the world. Now, we are witnessing a different kind of hatred and violence in Ukraine. We cry out in pain, in loss, and—yes—in anger as well. We imagine for a moment what it might mean for our world were God’s fury—as it were—to be aroused in the face of such wanton destruction. How might God respond? God is forgiving, our tradition teaches, but God will not forgive everything. God is compassionate, but God’s compassion must have limits. Would not a just God hold the perpetrators to account for their xenophobia and demagoguery, for their hatred and antisemitism?
True deliverance for the oppressed must include appropriate consequences for the oppressors. When we lift Elijah’s Cup, expressing our longing for freedom from hatred, bigotry, antisemitism, and violence, we express our hope that evildoers will change their ways, make teshuvah, and strive for holiness. As well, we pledge ourselves—with God’s help—to the pursuit of justice for those who have been wronged—ourselves, as well as others.
This year, there is bloodshed and war. In the year to come, may the warmongers, demagogues, and spreaders of hatred be held to account so that, ultimately, justice and peace shall prevail.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Yoshi Zweiback