I don’t know about you, but we
are expecting a long lost relative to show up at our Seder this year. In fact,
I am willing to bet that a long lost uncle will be showing up at many Seders in
the United States and even in Canada. Well before Elijah shows up, this long
lost cranky Uncle Bernie will make an appearance. No, he won’t be there
physically, but make no mistake, Uncle Bernie will put in an appearance. It
would have been way too tense with lots of political fireworks if our eldest daughter
came home for Pesach. However, the woman for whom our daughter works needed our daughter
in Pennsylvania for that state’s April 26th primary. I just hope that if and when Uncle Bernie
shows up, there won’t be yelling, screaming, name calling, or long diatribes
about the same thing over and over again.
Of course Uncle Bernie shows up
when we open the door to symbolically welcome the needy into our home. Most
likely he would have been there before screaming at us to “open the damn door
already, there are millions of people who need our help and society has failed
them”. So we open the door and in walks Uncle Bernie. As he brusquely walked in, not even saying
hello to my younger kids, nor my nieces and nephew, I would looked at him and
told him that I open the “damn door” when the Hagaddah instructs me to open the
door since I follow the prescribed order of the Hagaddah. I reminded him that
we started our Seder at a certain time and he didn’t need to make such a scene.
As he sits down, he throws his first
barb at me. He tells me that “I am a slave to Torah, to organized religion.” He
tells me that I am a slave to the capitalist society and that “only a
revolution”, of which he is the leader “can throw off the shackles of this
current state of slavery.” Knowing that I will have a chance later, I dismiss
his initial parry and tell Uncle Bernie that he should save his diatribe for later
while we are eating or even better, after that last cup of wine.
So
as we working our way thought Hagaddah, I pick up the Matzah and explain that
this is the bread of poverty, Uncle Bernie reminds us that we should always appreciate
the fact that it’s not only the bread of poverty for Jews, especially after the
Pesach shopping is complete, but we should always be aware of the poverty all
around us and be sure to do something about it. The kids are getting fidgety, “Yes Uncle
Bernie, we know, and we will, but first, tonight is Pesach and we are
celebrating our freedom and we are getting hungry.” So we managed to keep Uncle
Bernie quiet long enough to work our way through the middle of the Hagaddah and
are beginning with the Seder meal. He likes my wife’s chicken soup, he loves
the hard-boiled egg in salt water, and apparently it reminds him of his upbringing
in Brooklyn. Then dish after dish is placed upon the table, potatoes, chicken,
brisket, some type of vegetable kugel, and other things that I have no idea
what they could be. Does Uncle Bernie compliment my wife? No. Uncle Bernie
complains that there is too much food and we should have given it away to the poor
and the needy, and he refuses to eat. Standing on principle, or rather sitting
on it, he begins another diatribe about Jews and too much food. He even mentions that his mother would cook
too much on certain occasions.
There it is, there is my
opening. Under my breath but loud enough for Uncle Bernie to hear, I say “Sure,
like May Day but definitely not on Shabbat, God forbid.” Now the gloves come
off. While chewing some chicken, Uncle Bernie, who reminds me of so much of
Larry Sanders yells at me, “I am just as Jewish as you are you self- righteous
spiritually vapid slave.” Everyone stops and awaits my response. “No, Uncle Bernie. You are a Jew. Your mother
was a Jew. Make no mistake, you are not
just as Jewish. Nor am I self-righteous. I am observant. I believe in the particularism
of Judaism as well as its universal values. However I do not sacrifice one at
the expense of the other. For me, Pesach is NOT a one and done. Pesach is the embodiment
of the hard work of raising a family, of passing along Jewish knowledge, of
passing along the joy of being Jewish. It is not basking in a Judaism of
ethnicity based upon a Brooklyn accent, bagels and lox, working on a kibbutz
one summer. I am much more interested in the Jewish legacy that I leave with my
kids. You know Uncle Bernie, I am sure that many Jews derive great pride in the
fact that a Jew is running for President. Not me, I can’t tell you how upset
that you are the one running for President. I wish it was Uncle Joe (Lieberman).
You know why? Uncle Joe is Jewish. He isn’t just a Jew. Uncle Joe observes, he
is proof that you strike a balance between the secular and the sacred; between
the holy and the mundane. He is proof that you can raise kids and they will
remain connected to a community and to a people. Uncle Bernie you can’t say the
same thing. Your version of Judaism dies with you. Your version of Judaism with
only universal values, while appealing to Millennials, will, unfortunately lead
them astray once they get married, have kids, feel a bit mortal and want their
kids to have a relationship with their grandparents. Beside a Judaism solely
based upon Universalism demands very little if anything from its adherents. As
a result there is nothing to pass down to the next generation. You know Uncle Bernie, even Uncle Mikey (Michael
Bloomberg) running for President would have been a better alternative than you.
Although he is not so observant, Uncle Mikey is totally respectful, he would
never think to call me self-righteous. Don’t think that I can’t see your
sarcastic smirk because he is a multi- billionaire and the .001% of the 1%. You
know how much Tzedakah he gives? You know how much he gives to charity, to
Israel? Yep, Uncle Mikey doesn’t just talk a good game. Uncle Mikey puts his
money where his mouth is. Tell me Uncle Bernie, you spent all these years in
the Senate, what did you accomplish? You yelled a lot. You waved your arms a
lot. You railed against many things that, I agree, were often hypocritical. But
you know something Uncle Bernie, you spent so much time not being, not being a
Democrat, not being Jewish, not being from Brooklyn ( you left when you were in
your early twenties and moved to Vermont), and don’t get me started about your behavior
in New York State these past couple of weeks. Sure do the ethnic Jewish thing
in New York. Big deal! For the rest of the primary states you don’t talk about being
Jewish. Remember Uncle Bernie, in order to get stuff done you need to be a part
of something”.
“Tell me Uncle Bernie, do you
know that the Midrash tells us that only 1/5 of the Jewish slaves left Egypt.
The rest stayed in Egypt. I won’t say that you deny your Judaism, that is an
insult to your father’s family who died in the Holocaust, and I don’t care if your
social circle of friends in Vermont are Jews or not. But tell me Uncle Bernie,
you have spent so much time trying to minimize the Particularism of Judaism and
focus on the Universalist values, would you have left Egypt? After all, those
who left, by definition had a sense of faith, they felt a sense of “choseness”.
They had accepted the ideal that one must be different in behavior (ritual
circumcision) all year round in order to participate in the Pesach offering.
They were willing to create institutions and adhere to them rather than rid themselves
of them. So tell me Uncle Bernie would you have been one of the 20% that left
or remained with the 80% in Egypt. I can’t help but think that since you consistently
align yourself with the 99% you would have found comfort with the vast majority
as opposed to those who were truly revolutionary and willing to follow someone
who was an incredibly uninspired speaker, Moshe.”
For the first time, Uncle Bernie
is quiet. He finishes eating. Of course he doesn’t’ stay until the end. He didn’t
really want to discuss anything. He didn’t really want to participate in the
give and take of ideas and argument. He wanted to yell, and rage at all the
problems but not offer solutions, nor enjoy the moments he had with us. So
Uncle Bernie left, sure there were some food stains on his blue sport coat but
I wasn’t going to say anything. And as we all exhaled deeply we were all happy
to see Elijah come by for his cup of wine.
Peace
Rav Yitz
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