We Will Sing Again—And Again
We often think that eating, and drinking, are central to our Passover celebrations. This makes sense given how much time we take preparing the traditional seder foods. And while matzah and wine are incredibly important, I have come to believe that singing forms the backbone of our seder rituals. Here is why.
Singing, and of course dancing, are our greatest expressions of joy. It’s why we go to concerts and music festivals. It’s why an upbeat playlist is critical to any party. And it’s why the band is the most important element of any wedding celebration. All our worries, and hours arguing about the foods being served and the signature cocktails our guests will imbibe mask the musicians’ central role. The hora is more important than the sushi!
Likewise, how would the seder feel without the singing of Dayyenu? We sing at the top of our voices, “Had God only taken us out of Egypt, it would have been enough for us. Had God only given us Shabbat, it would have been enough for us. Had God only given us the Torah, it would have been enough for us.” Dayyenu!
According to tradition, several psalms bracket the meal. They are called hallel, songs of halleluyah. We recall the ancient Israelites’ celebrations. After they marched through the sea they broke out in song and dance. The Torah reports, “And the children of Israel marched on dry ground b’toch—in the midst of the sea. Then Moses and the Israelites sang this song.” (Exodus 15)
The medieval commentator, Nahmanides suggests that we are misunderstanding this verse. He suggests that this line teaches us that at the very moment the children of Israel were walking through the waters, they sang. Their singing took place as they were fleeing the Egyptians. They sang to God even though they did not yet know if they would survive. Their singing was not one of celebration but instead an act of profound faith.
My teacher, Tal Becker, expands on Nahmanides’ insight and writes,
The moment Israel and the Jewish people find themselves in today is not dissimilar. We are in the middle of war, turmoil, and profound uncertainty. We do not yet know how, when, or if our dreams of peace and security will be fulfilled. They feel too distant for any song of celebration. And yet, like the children of Israel amid the sea, we must summon the courage to sing now. We should surely sing not as an act of celebration, but as an act of faith and commitment.
Perhaps we are always “in the midst.” And just perhaps we always need to sing.