Holy Nourishment
by Cantor Emma Lutz
It’s hard to imagine what it was like for our ancestors to leave Egypt in such a commotion, in such haste. Now more than ever, after spending more than a year mostly at home, it feels challenging to even imagine departing from our houses, to step out into an unknown, even with all of its possibilities. And still, I appreciate our Passover holiday’s invitation, in honor of the Exodus story, to do a sort of spiritual packing and preparation for what comes next.
During this time at home, as difficult as much of it has been, what matters most in our lives has come before us with such clarity. In years past, we may not have been able to answer what we would choose to leave behind, or more importantly, what few precious tokens, people, or memories we would take with us, but this year we may consider this theoretical packing with explicit clarity.
After the year we’ve had, I imagine myself leaving Egypt with my heart full of aspirational anticipation—one arm carrying my sweet daughter, Ruby Mira, the brightest light during this strangely dark year, a baby born into a pandemic who only smiles at and babbles against the woes of the world. Strapped to my back, my small acoustic guitar, its strings inviting an escape from technology, the sounds it makes gifting our surroundings with levity and inspiration. And, of course, in my other arm, I’d pack as much sustenance as I could carry, knowing that any human challenge can be softened by the blessing of holy and delicious nourishment, leavened or not!
I hope that there are invaluable pieces of this unusual year that you, too, will carry with you into our Passover holiday and beyond. Wishing you a spring of optimism and renewal, and a year of good music, great health, and God willing soon, time spent in the joyful, safe, and no less than miraculous company of family and community.