Perhaps you’re so busy eating unleavened card that you no longer question what you’re doing. But try explaining the gems below to people who aren’t Jewish. (Maybe skip #5.)
#1: We eat building materials.
You’re probably aware of this one. The Charoset on the seder plate symbolises the bricks and mortar used to build Egyptian structures (Debatable). This is meant to remind us of our ancestors toiling away in the desert, reassured that this was as bad as things could get.
Since clay is red, we add red wine to the mixture. But the symbolism doesn’t stop there. Since the Egyptians did not usually use kilns, they left the bricks out to dry in the sun and used straw to make sure they kept their shape as they dried. Then, Pharoah decided that the best thing to give a tribe not best known for DIY is more DIY. He forced the Israelites to not only build the bricks, but gather this straw themselves.
That’s why we add cinnamon (historically, this was in the form of sticks. But usually in powder form today) to the mixture. Jews in Gibraltar even add brick dust (Seriously, WTF). So here we learn that charoset really is the most loadbearing sandwich covering out there, and it’s mainly thanks to Pharoah becoming a pioneer in being a massive dick.
#2 We talk about how we should lean during the Seder. Then we spend the whole Seder not leaning.
Most of us recall asking the “Why do we lean?” question to an assembled throng of bolt–upright adults, before being told off for not sitting up straight at some later point during the Seder. There’s a clear consensus on why we are meant to lean. Whilst working people sit upright, ready to be disrupted by a superior’s order, we are now free to lean around like posh slobs. So why don’t we?
The answer is that the practice evolved before we adopted modern cutlery. Trying to eat with a knife and fork while lying down is like two enraged snakes trying to have a boxing match. Except that the snakes don’t end up waterboarding themselves with chicken soup.
Some rabbis actually state that we should purposefully lean just to make the kids ask why the adults are acting funny. To which the master of the house should exclaim, coated from head to toe in congealing kneidlech and vermicelli, that it’s because we’re free now.
#3: The youngest son asks several questions during the Seder. Later, the same son does not know how to ask questions.
The youngest son (or daughter) traditionally asks four questions about significant features of the Seder. We then move onto The Four Sons bit. One son is a smart-arse and wants to know all the details of everything. The second is a rebel who sees the Seder as an irrelevant bore (Free food and alcohol, mate. Chin up). The third is an idiot and needs to watch Prince of Egypt. And that leaves us with the one who doesn’t know how to ask.
Wait, hang on. Assuming he’s simply unable to talk, doesn’t that suggest he’s the youngest? He just spent the last ten minutes quizzing his father on the Seder in perfect Hebrew. What gives?
The answer is that the attributes of the four sons are nothing to do with their age. Rather, it is probably their intellect that is being considered. The fourth son’s Hebrew description gives no indication of his age; only that he’s not very articulate. So we could have a three year old halachic prodigy and an eighteen year old idiot. Which, if Hollywood hasn’t lied to us, is perfectly plausible.
#4: Top quality matza is valued for tasting awful.
Not the generic square crackers. They just taste like a plainer newspaper-sized regular cracker. They’re cheap, so that’s fair, right? But wouldn’t it be great to get hold of the top-dollar stuff? Well…no.
Top quality matzah is termed ‘Shmurah’, which roughly translates to ‘guarded‘. Guarded from exposure to any air, water or anything else that might prevent it from tasting like flat-packed gruel, and it shows. This does not stop it from being incredibly expensive.
In case you were asleep in Cheder, matzah is termed the ‘bread of affliction‘, which is a posh way of saying ‘the crappier it tastes, the more authentic it is’. Asking for top quality matzah that tastes nice is a bit like asking for a 100% accurate experience of suicide that doesn’t leave you dead. We suffered as slaves and when we left Egypt, we didn’t have time to make proper food. Life was generally rubbish. Re-living the experience is meant to teach you about the hardships of your forefathers. Not how to be a niche market food critic.
#5: We preach hate. A lot of hate.
Imagine being a fly on the wall in the home of a radical Islamic cleric. Dinnertime is drawing to a close. The family is sat in solemn silence. The cleric, at the head of the table, stands up and shoots a stern expression across the room. Taking his scripture in hand, he recites the following:
POUR OUT YOUR WRATH ON THE NATIONS THAT DO NOT KNOW ALLAH!! FOR THEY HAVE DEVOURED MOHAMMED AND LAID WASTE TO HIS DWELLING PLACE. POUR OUT YOUR INDIGNATION UPON THEM, AND LET YOUR FIERCE ANGER OVERTAKE THEM. PURSUE THEM WITH WRATH, AND DESTROY THEM!
What goes on behind closed doors, eh? These people may seem friendly, but you can’t trust them!
Except that the above is a passage from the Haggadah. I’ve shortened it and added a couple of Islamic references, but the substance is identical. The prayer seems to have been put together at some point when Jews were being heavily persecuted; at the time, hatred of non-Jews was understandable. Most sources agree that it is meant to be interpreted in a hateful way, and some even justify it in the wake of modern anti-semitism. If you’re comfortable with that, ask yourself this: Suppose the passage above really was routinely taught by an Islamic cleric to his family. Does it still sound so nice?
For those of you who don’t believe in drop-kicking your enemies’ babies into oblivion, here’s a version that celebrates nice people instead.
That’s just a few things that I could find, but there’s definitely more out there. Got any weird observations about Passover that you never considered before? Leave a comment below. Otherwise, feel free to share this post with anyone else with an interest in Judaism, Passover or the very, very weird.