Why is this night different to other nights?

HOWARD FELDMAN

This year will be even more different to those that have preceded it. In keeping with the theme, I propose that there are four ways in which this year might be distinguishable from all others.

1.    This year, we will be surrounded only by those who live under the same roof as us. There will be no mass gatherings, no carrying in and out of extra tables, chairs, and no irritating aunts who leave early. There will be no arguments as to who gets to use bobba’s massive soup pot. Because this year, nothing will be super-sized. It will be simple, and it will be contained. As Pesach has never been before.

2.    If the memes that I have received are any indication, we won’t be able to open the door for Elijah the prophet who likes to visit late into the evening. Given the social distancing rules, anyone who has visited every Jewish household in the world is exactly the one angel to be avoided. We might leave a cup of wine for him, but no sips will be taken. Not on my watch.

3.    Whatever our children contribute to the seder will be up to us. With school having been closed for some weeks, the education of our children – although facilitated by the school – is our responsibly. Which is more than a little annoying.

For years, I have had the enormous parental privilege of being able to roll my eyes towards my wife when one of our protégés embarrassed us in front of the entire extended family. “Look how little they have learned at school?” I would telepathically convey. And for no reason whatsoever, she would return the glance with an apologetic expression as though it was her fault.

What might have started with them forgetting the words to Ma nishtana (the four questions), more recently has evolved to at least one of them consuming all four glasses of wine before we take our seats at the table. There will be no looks and no rolled eyes. Because this year, the ownership rests with us. And that’s kind of cool.

4.    We will, of course, be able to relate to the plagues – most likely more so than many prior generations. Unable to leave our homes, go to shul, unable to see parents, friends, and family, we won’t have to wonder if the plagues that we are reading about are a metaphor for something. We won’t have to wonder what happens when something sweeps across the world, and if it’s possible for people to perish from the affliction. It won’t be difficult to imagine a time when G-d unleashes his might against the world.

Pesach this year has been designed to make us reconsider pretty much everything. It’s designed to make us value almost every aspect of the years prior to it. It’s designed to make us focus on our spouses, our children, and ourselves, and to think about all the people – even that irritating aunt – who we’re going to miss. Because in more ways than four, it’s different to all other years.