he asked if i would drink the wine. four cups, for tradition of course. he explained it was terrible wine. watered down wine. but it was tradition. smiling, i said we’d be happy to drink grape juice or sparkling cider… and we did.
since my first exposure to a jewish friend, i wished to participate in a seder. i’ve been to mass (in english and spanish), i partook in ramadan, i’ve attended all things relating to the passion. but i had not yet experienced a seder. thankfully bossman obliged my wish. although he first looked puzzled and just said, “why?!” because, it’s tradition, i guess.
we arrived sunday evening and made introductions with a dozen other people and together we recounted the plagues and journeyed out of egyptian bondage into freedom. hands were washed. bitter herbs eaten. matzah broken. the youngest sang out in beautiful hebrew. wine glasses were raised and the door, symbolically, opened for elijah– i was drawn in to the service and surprisingly longed for him to enter.
i felt a kinship, knowing their history, as, essentially it is mine. we approached that evening from different faiths and different perspectives but drawing from the same book of scripture. the same traditions and the same god.