by Rabbi Russ Resnik

Hashem said to Moses and Aaron: This is the law of the Passover offering: . . . It shall be eaten in one house: you shall not take any of the flesh outside the house; nor shall you break a bone of it. The whole community of Israel shall offer it. Exodus 12:43, 46-47

Passover is z'man cherutenu, the season of our freedom, and themes of freedom reverberate throughout our celebration of the festival. At the original Passover, Israel was set free from the bondage of Egypt, and we tell of this deliverance every year at our seder. But Scripture highlights another theme in the Passover story, which we tend to overlook—the theme of unity. On the eve of Passover, all Israel, as one household, sacrifices a lamb at the same time and in the same manner. Each household within Israel has one lamb, and every single person within Israel must partake on the same night. Furthermore, this one lamb must be roasted whole—head, legs, and entrails-over the fire (Ex. 12:9), and kept whole—nor shall you break a bone of it (Ex. 12:46). The whole lamb is consumed in one meal, in one household, and any that is left over after the meal is to be burned in its entirety (Ex. 12:10). The unity of the lamb for each household underscores the unity of each household, which taken together form the unity of the whole household of Israel, all marked for deliverance by the blood of the Passover lamb.

Passover emphasizes unity, which is this "essential of the faith," in various other ways. But unity is one of those religious terms which sound so inspiring that we're tempted to just say them a lot and not do much about them. This temptation is heightened because we realize that doing something about unity might be demanding. The values that dominate our world today—materialism, consumerism, individualism—all undermine unity. The unity that Passover portrays requires a decrease in the very things that are constantly promoted by the surrounding culture.

In addition, we avoid doing something about unity because we aren't quite sure what we mean by it, so let's start there. We don't get unity just by hanging out together, but by sharing in the same story, a story not about me, but about us-all Israel. As Messianic Jews, of course, we carry this story further than the rest of our people, for it encompasses the life, death, and resurrection of Messiah. But our claim—and this is central to the whole Messianic Jewish vision—is that the Yeshua story leads us not away from, but more deeply into, the Passover story that we share with all Israel. It's the wisdom of Jewish tradition to mandate a dramatic re-enactment of Passover every year, in every generation, and it's the wisdom of God to weave the core Yeshua story into the fabric of the Passover story. Yeshua does not come to replace Passover, but to inhabit it.

Today, when everything is hyper-personal, when religious tradition is co-opted by individualized spirituality, it is vital to share in a story that is not just about "me". And it's equally vital to not just retell the story, but to help move it forward. So, ask yourself: what story am I part of? How am I playing that part in my daily life?

Two additional lessons of Passover will help us answer these questions:

1.      Restore simplicity.

Before we can begin our celebration of Passover, we have to get all traces of leaven out of our homes. Leaven, of course, is a symbol of sin, and it's obvious how sin can destroy unity. But what about all the harmless stuff that complicates our lives—possessions, amusements, overwork—so that we no longer have time for each other? Getting rid of leaven might include all that, and it might also mean returning to the basics spiritually. I'm all for exploring the nuances and complexities of biblical truth, but we need to return continually to the simple core issues of godliness and redemption.

Our ancestors didn't have packaged yeast. They just let their dough sit out and absorb the yeast spores floating around in the air and, presto! it was leavened. Likewise, we inevitably absorb the attitudes, distractions, and preconceptions afloat all around us, which just as inevitably divide us from each other. Some of us need a week without multi-tasking, with less twittering and texting and tube-time, and more talking with our wife or husband or kids. Others among us need a week with fewer words altogether and more time doing what the words are talking about. It's time to toss out the leaven in our lives and stick with the "matza of sincerity and truth" (1 Cor. 5:8).

2.      Reject the status-quest.

Genuine unity, unity that is more than a pious platitude, will always cost something. To be specific, it will always come at the expense of self, even self dressed up in its finest spiritual attire. Unity requires a sacrifice of self-interest, self-advancement, self-coddling. Yeshua, of course, embodies this sacrifice in all that he does, and he calls his followers to the same. To build unity we can't just avoid being divisive (although that wouldn't hurt); we have to watch for the opportunity to relinquish status, power, and personal advancement, and grab it.

At his last Passover, Yeshua shares the cup of the new covenant with his disciples, and warns that one of them would soon betray him. The disciples immediately get into a dispute about "which of them should be considered the greatest." Status was as big an issue then as it is now. It was just as tempting then as now to highjack a revelatory moment to the cause of religious status. And Yeshua provides the antidote that works now as well as then: "He who is greatest among you, let him be as the younger, and he who governs as he who serves. For who is greater, he who sits at the table, or he who serves? Is it not he who sits at the table? Yet I am among you as the One who serves" (Luke 22:24-27). Unity doesn't come in a kumbaya moment, but through cumulative moments of rejecting the competition for status and instead serving one another.

Passover is the season of our freedom. If we pay attention to its message it can help free us from the forces that divide us, so that it becomes also the season of our unity.

Chag Sameach—a joyous festival!

Rabbi Russ Resnik, This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it © 2010