Inspirational Letter to Gavriel Sassoon. Wow.

ChossidMom

Tue, Mar 31 2015, 1:42 am

http://www.bdhls.org/2015/03/sweet-marror/

Dear Mr. Sassoon,

We are all deeply pained by the horrific tragedy in your family. We are speechless. We cannot fathom why Hashem took the lives of seven of your children so suddenly and so tragically, and why your wife and daughter are still battling for their lives.

Though we never knew you until a week ago, we now feel very close to you. Your family has touched our lives in a very unique way. We feel your pain, we cried with you, and we are all mourning together with you.

Pesach is next week, the festival of joy and liberation. Sadly, you won’t be celebrating the Seder with most of your family. We can’t even imagine how you will perform the Seder. But I want you to know, that in your merit, I will be celebrating my Seder this year differently than ever before. Allow me to explain why:

In the spirit of displaying our freedom, our Sages instructed us to behave like royal people at the Seder. One of the ways we accomplish this is by reclining when we eat and drink. Only a free person has the ability and desire to lean and behave in a carefree manner.

The Halacha is very clear about when we should recline. When we perform rituals that reflect the exodus and symbolize our liberation, then we are instructed to recline. But when we perform rituals that recall our slavery and oppression, then it makes no sense to recline. Indeed, the Shulchan Aruch rules that when we eat marror, the bitter herbs which evoke our tears and cause us to choke up about our suffering, we are not supposed to recline. Reclining whilst eating marror would be incongruous and contradictory.

Yet in a puzzling ruling, Rabbi Yosef Karo (1488-1575), in his famous Beis Yosef commentary, writes, “If one wishes to recline when eating marror, they may.”

Why would a person wish to recline when eating marror? And why does Rabbi Karo permit this? Doesn’t such behavior seem foolish and inappropriate? Why does the Halacha bend itself to accommodate an individual’s misguided intentions?

The answer, it seems, is that reclining for the marror isn’t foolish at all. Rabbi Karo’s ruling is in fact predicated upon a profound theological idea.

When our Sages designed the protocol through which a Seder can be optimally experienced, they did so with the general populace in mind. For many of us, who are inclined to view life at face value and appreciate life’s circumstances in a single-dimensional manner, our understanding of Good and Bad is straightforward and simplistic. We deem experiences which feel good and overtly lead to good fortune, as Good ones; and we deem experiences which cause us pain and agony, as Bad ones.

In truth, nothing is ever so clear-cut. Upon reflection we can appreciate that winning the mega-million lottery isn’t necessarily a guaranteed good thing, and missing a flight isn’t necessarily a bad thing. There are so many other factors and variables of life that could play into any given situation and alter its ostensible meaning.

In order to appreciate this, one needs to be a very advanced, spiritually intuitive and elevated person. Such an outlook of life doesn’t come easily or naturally. It requires awesome traits like faith, humility, and emotional intelligence.

For most of us, marror is a bitter herb. It rightfully causes us to empathize with our ancestors in Egypt who endured torturous persecution and painful oppression under Pharaoh’s tyranny. When we eat marror, we feel anguish and sadness as we identify with the Evils of the world. We certainly don’t feel like reclining or consuming it with any joy or gratitude.

However, for some exceptional people out there, whose lives are guided by deep faith, spiritual maturity and self-mastery, they know how to perceive marror within a broader context, and how to appreciate the subtext of life’s realities. Marror may feel bitter right now, but in the larger scheme of things, and if we could peer through the lens of our Creator, marror might appear to be something very different. Perhaps it actually is, in the language of the Kabbalists, ‘a descent for the sake of a great ascent.’

So the Shulchan Aruch is clear: One should not recline when eating marror. This is a generic ruling for you and me, and for most people that I know of. We, who see slavery as a Bad thing, ought to use the marror as a reminder about the forces of evil, and a tool for empathy.

But Mr. Sassoon, you are different than anyone I know. When I heard you lament your tragedy in the presence of the seven coffins of your children, I became awe-struck. You said things I can never say. Your unwavering faith and your loyal acceptance of G-d’s ways were unreal. “Dear G-d,” you wailed, “here are my sacrifices – my holy children. I give them to you with love.” When an entire world was feeling despondent, you – of all people – helped restore faith back into our lives. With great irony, it was you, the father of seven dead children, who comforted us. You imbued a spirit of faith into our lives. In a time where we were all feeling forlorn and doubtful, you were the agent of G-d to bring us back to life.

It is difficult for me to write this, let alone think this way. But from watching your behavior and listening to your reflections during interviews this week, all I can do is marvel at your strength. I still feel bitter about your plight, but you are miles ahead of us all.

So at my Seder this year, I am going to recline when I eat the marror. No, not because I can appreciate the sweetness of marror. For me the marror is bitter and it connects me with the sufferings of our People. But in your honor, and in gratitude to you for teaching us about pure faith and powerful resilience, and in solidarity with your horrific plight, I will recline. Because that’s what you did this week – you reclined, and you embraced your love for Hashem, at a time when none of us could.

May Hashem grant your wife and daughter a quick and complete refuah. May He comfort you and grant you continued strength, and may you never know of such sorrow again. In the merit of the seven holy and innocent souls of your children, may you and we all be blessed with a happy and festive Pesach.

Most sincerely,

Rabbi Eliezer Wolf