Sermon: Fuzzy Endings Pesach 7th day
Written by Rabbi Nicola Feuchtwang — 19 April 2025
If we had just read our Haftarah in Hebrew, you might have noticed some resemblance, at least in its structure, to the Song of the Sea, or you might just have dozed off and then woken up as you heard the last line, and realised that you recognise it from somewhere:
…ha-el tamim darko, imrat Adonai tserufah, magen hu l’chol ha-chosim bo[1]
Translation: The way of God is perfect, The word of the ETERNAL is pure.
[God] shields all who seek refuge.
It’s what we say when we elevate the scroll (‘vezot ha-Torah’…etc)
Now look again, if you will, at our two Torah readings: The Song at the Sea ends with the wonderful victory declaration which turns up again and again in our liturgy:
Adonai yimloch l’olam va-ed[2]
Translation: GOD will reign for ever and ever!
And now just look at the Deuteronomy passage which also finishes very dramatically with words we will say or sing again in just a few minutes om the Aleinu:
Veyada’ta hayom, vehasheivota el-levavecha; Ki Adonai hu ha-Elohim, bashamayim mima-al v’al ha-arets mitahat, ein od[3]
Translation: Know therefore this day and keep in mind that the ETERNAL alone is God in heaven above and on earth below; there is no other.
It may just be coincidence, and I don’t know whether the editors of our Machzor did this deliberately, but it struck me this week that all 3 of these passages end with words which are memorable and dramatic, and have become familiar to us in our liturgy. There is something very satisfying about a good ending, about finishing, as it were, on a high note.
By way of contrast, I find it hard to believe, but it is now almost 7 years since I retired from my job in the NHS. My last few days there were a real anticlimax. I barely saw any of my senior colleagues. On the final afternoon, I signed off from my email, collected my remaining possessions, walked through the building, and a couple of the office staff looked up and said ‘Oh – bye, then’.
I’m not sure what I expected, and I certainly wouldn’t have wanted fireworks, but I had been there 26 years…so maybe just a little bit of formality or ceremony to create a Special Moment? Maybe a few people standing at the door, or walking me to my car?
We are quite good at marking the start of festivals, and the big lifecycle moments around birth, and partnership; the major birthdays and anniversaries; the end of a life…
But I sometimes feel that in the Progressive Jewish world, we may have lost the knack, the habit, of just pausing in gratitude to mark smaller endings – for recovery from illness, for getting home from a journey, for a job well done, for a good meal. It doesn’t always have to be a dramatic ‘Adonai Yimloch L’Olam Va-ed’ or a full-length sung Birkat Hamazon (Grace After Meals) – but just an acknowledgement, a Moment.
You have probably heard versions of the following midrash:
There were two ships in the harbour; one was just leaving the port and the other entering the port. There had been a major launch ceremony for the ship setting off on its voyage, and a great deal of rejoicing, while few people were paying attention to the one arriving back at the end of its voyage.
A wise visitor to the town was observing this. He said to them: ‘I see matters to the contrary. Regarding the ship leaving the port, they should not rejoice too much, because they do not know what challenges will confront it, or how many storms it will encounter. When it enters the port, everyone should rejoice that it entered in peace and that its voyage has succeeded.’[4]
The context in which this passage occurs is a commentary on the rather depressing proverb in Ecclesiastes that ‘the day of death is better than the day of birth’,[5] but I suggest that it is applicable to other situations too.
So how are you going to mark the end of Pesach? – whether that is tonight, or tomorrow night if your family keeps 8 days, or somewhere in between?
Will you make Havdalah?[6] Do you have a personal ritual that somehow involves restoring your kitchen to normal, buying back the chametz you sold before the festival, or going on a marathon shopping spree ( even though of course the kosher shops won’t be open until late on Sunday, or Monday morning!) I’ve never actually done it, but I rather fancy the idea of ceremonially burning a little piece of matza to mirror the burning of chametz last week – or does that feel a bit pagan?
Or do you have plans for bagel or a bowl of cornflakes or a pizza the minute it gets dark (or perhaps you won’t even wait that long)?
Rabbi Rachel Barenblat in the USA, who blogs as the Velveteen Rabbi, wrote a lovely reflection about the end of Pesach some years ago.[7]
‘…it’s clear to me that the end of a day isn’t a binary. We don’t go from day to night in a single moment of transition. As our prayer for oncoming evening [maariv aravim] makes clear, “evening” is a mixture of day and night, constantly shifting.
There’s some of that same fuzziness in the end of Pesach…
… It lingers in the counting of the Omer. It lingers in the matzah crumbs we’ll be sweeping up for weeks. It lingers in our consciousness, in our hearts and minds, in whatever in us was changed this year by re-encountering our people’s core narrative of taking the leap into freedom.’
I suggest that, by marking the transition in some way, we may help it to linger in the best possible sense, and remind us what Pesach is meant to be about. Not just ‘thank God that’s over’, but gratitude that you can actually survive for a week without your favourite food, gratitude for the freedom to choose, to celebrate with others, to have opportunities and privileges that are not as universal as they could be.
Shabbat Shalom and (Sof) Chag Sameach – I wish you a joyful end to your Pesach.
[1] 2 Samuel 22:31 – Festival Machzor p446
[2] Exodus 15:18 – p424
[3] Deuteronomy 4:39 – p436
[4] Shemot Rabba 48:1 and Kohelet Rabba 7:1:4
[5] Ecclesiastes 7:1
[6] https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/guide-to-non-standard-havdalah-ceremonies/
[7] https://velveteenrabbi.blogs.com/blog/2017/04/a-ritual-for-the-end-of-pesach.html