Passover is a time that we open our door to friends, family and even those we do not know. I was so used to opening the door for Elijah or, symbolically at the beginning of the Seder, when we recite, “Let all who are hungry come and eat” that I never really thought about it. My childhood seders, after all, were filled with family and not strangers.
For many of the years I lived in Muncie, Indiana, as Faculty Advisor to a small Hillel group I founded, 25-30 young people came to our home for the first Seder. It was wonderful to invite these young people, whether it was their first or 18th seder.
“John” was enrolled in the Holocaust Literature class that I taught for more than a decade. He knew that I worked with Hillel and asked me one day after class if he could come to the Seder. I knew he wasn’t Jewish and tried to dissuade him. He was very intense in an unusual way, and after a few moments, I reluctantly agreed. I forgot about this in the wave of work preceding Passover and only remembered when he offered to stay after the Seder to help clean up.
“You may wonder why I wanted so much to come to a Seder. I have never been to one before.” I waited knowing that a story was about to emerge. “My grandmother died this summer, and before she died, while my mother and I were at her bedside, she told us that she was Jewish. We were shocked, even though we knew she had gone through hard times during WWII in Poland. When she came to the US, she had told no one she was Jewish and she started a new life. Even my late grandfather never knew. No one was left in her family to dispute who she was. My grandmother asked how I felt about her now that I knew she was Jewish. I held her hand and told her how I loved her. She died shortly after.”
John continued, “I have this hunger to know everything about the Holocaust and about Judaism, which is why I signed up for your class. And when I heard you had a Seder, I wanted to come.”
Around the Seder table sit the great diversity of the Jewish community: Passover is the most celebrated of all Jewish holidays. But still, there are many are not at the table– those apart from the Jewish community, those who have pushed away that part of themselves, or those estranged from family.
Each of us has an opportunity to open the door these people. I am blessed to be at Addlestone
where I can say each day, “Let all who are hungry come and eat. “We fill our table with so much to learn and even more importantly, with love and welcome for all who wish to join us.
Neil and I wish you and your family, those at your table, and those for whom the door is always open, a most happy, healthy and meaningful Pesach.

