essays on life...by me

Category: Jewish

Passover 2025

This spring I had the pleasure of attending 2 seders. The first one, on the first night of Passover was a small intimate one and the second night’s seder was a large, noisy one.

The small seder on Saturday night was held out in the suburbs of Stockholm and my only responsibility was to pick up and deliver the gefilte fish that had been pre-ordered. There were 6 of us there, gathered around a lovingly set table in the middle of a small living room. The oldest other guest at this dinner was a friend who had recently turned 40. I felt so honored that these young people had wished to share their seder with me. It was the first time for Ben (who did an excellent job) to lead a seder and the Haggadah we used was a relatively simple one, all in English. This of course was perfect for me – since for me, the Passover story is best told in my mother tongue – with bits of transliterated Hebrew thrown in. Because it was a Saturday we started late, after sundown at 9pm. The food, cooked by Ellen was delicious and the conversation during the evening was lively, with me adding, my old lady feminist and Reform Jew opinions, when I felt they were needed. Afterwards, all the guests were driven home through a quiet and dark Stockholm, landing me back at my apartment around 2.30 in the morning.

The first night of Passover

The first night of Passover

Twelve hours later, by 2pm in the afternoon, Håkan had deposited me and Bevin in Skarpneck for the next Seder.
This Seder was the annual Seder that I lead for my group of Jewish/American/Swedish friends or J.A.P.S. for short (Jewish American Parents in Stockholm). We have been gathering for over 25 years to celebrate Jewish holidays together and this is my Jewish family here in Stockholm. We celebrated Passover together for the first time in 1998.

This year, we were 26 people, of whom 6 of them were small children and a 3 month old baby. When we first started out so long ago, all our kids were small children. Now some of those “kids” are having kids of their own. It fills my heart that these young people still want to join us to celebrate, bringing their own children with them.

Bevin and I arrived loaded down with stuff for the seder: 8 haggadahs, boxes of matzah, a seder plate, a silver goblet, 1 Elijah cup, 2 matzah covers, candlesticks w candles. And of course food: Chicken soup & matzah balls and charoses, and the ritual foods for the 3 seder plates – parsley, horseradish, 3 roasted eggs, 3 lamb shank bones. Everyone else brings the rest of the food: raw veggies to munch with hummus or chopped liver, hard boiled eggs, lamb, roasted potatoes & parsnips, kugels, salads and a bunch of wonderful desserts including a real sponge cake. I haven’t had a real Passover sponge cake in a zillion years!!! Thank you Berta!

Finally after all the tables and chairs were in place and decorated and everyone had arrived, we sat down to tell the story of the Jews’ exodus from Egypt and to remind ourselves how important freedom is for everyone.

As every year, I have something to say before we start the seder. Here is what I said this year.

Passover Speech 2025
I want to start off by saying welcome to everyone. We made it! We are here – gathered together! Pheewww…

Every year I like to start our seder by making a small speech. Maybe that’s very vain of me – to think that I might have something important to say, but that’s the way it is. And every year, when I sit down at the computer, trying to write something, the words take a while to come.

Every year… That is probably one of the most important and yet invisible, themes of Passover. Every year we gather. Every year we tell the story. Every year we go through the same rituals of eating parsley, and charoses and matzah. And every year we talk about Freedom – to live our lives as we wish to, free from constraint.

As some of you might know, the past couple of months have been difficult for me – causing me to question my ability as a leader, as someone who can be in charge of doing things, of getting things done. For this reason, I have been giving some thought to Moses. To Moses and the idea of leadership. Moses is the invisible guest at our seder table. Moses is the person who got the whole ball rolling and yet he is the one person we do not name at our Seder. We talk about Jacob moving his clan to Egypt. We mention that Joseph became a great lord there. But Moses…nobody mentions him, at least not in the Haggadah. Its like we are not supposed to be grateful to him for what he did.

Over the last 3000 years there has been some commentary written about why he’s not mentioned in the Haggadah.
So let me name a few of those ideas:
First, maybe we don’t mention Moses, in order to emphasize that it was God that was the big kahuna.

Or maybe we don’t mention him because Moses was a humble kind of guy and didn’t want to folks to make a big fuss about him (because remember…he was present at the very first seder a year after the exodus and for a whole lot more of them while the Jews wandered in the desert for 40 years).

Or even maybe because the part that Moses played in the story was just the physical action part which took place 3000 years ago and the Seder we do today is more about the spiritual, idea of freedom, of setting oneself free.

Whatever the reason is…we still don’t mention him.

So what was Moses? Who was he?
To start with, he was a man born into one culture (race, tribe, family, clan, folk, minority or whatever you want to call it) that of the Israelite slaves, and yet he grew up and was raised within another one. He was an outsider – a favored part of Pharoah’s family but yet always knowing he was not truly family. And when he escaped Egypt and went to Midian, he married the high Priest Jethro’s daughter, Zipporah and lived there a long time with her, tending sheep. But he wasn’t a Midianite, he was still an outsider.

We also know that he had a strong sense of justice and a violent temper – He killed an Egyptian that he saw unfairly beating a Jewish slave. This was the reason he had to flee Egypt.

And he must have been humble – when the burning bush that was God told him to return to Egypt and free his people, Moses asked in his most Woody Allen voice, “Why me? I am no one and I don’t speak well”. He felt inadequate to that job but God convinced him that together with his brother Aaron’s help he could do what God commanded him to do. Like so many of us, he rose to meet the situation he was handed.

So why am I thinking this year about the invisible man at the Seder table?

I think the story of Moses as an outsider who was able to make a new home for himself in all the places that he lived is an apt story for us J.A.P.S. in general. Like Moses…Risa, Janet, David, Barbara, Marina, Sam & Rebecca, Naomi & Matt and myself, have all left our families and our countries to make a home in a foreign land. We have raised our children in this strange new place and they have grown up to call it home. This is something that Jews have been good at doing for over 2000 years.

Moses’s anger also comes to mind when I think back to some of our previous Pesach seders and how I allowed the stress and my own crankiness to get the better of me and how others have had to drag me off to a corner to cool down. I guess I’m happy I didn’t murder anybody.

And finally, I am thinking of Moses, the leader, and I ponder what does it mean to be a leader when your task is done.

In 1997, when I placed an ad in the American Woman’s Club magazine, looking for Jewish mothers to help me celebrate the Jewish holidays together, I had no idea that 28 years later we would still be sitting down together to celebrate the Passover holiday. Some of the faces around the table have changed, some have moved away and new faces and families have joined us, but, as a group we are still here and with a new generation of small bubbelas at our table.

When I placed that ad, I wanted for me and my son, Bevin, to be part of a group, a family. Granted, I have been the one bullying everyone to do what I wanted of them – when to meet, what to eat, who brings what, and how we celebrate. I feel like, just as Moses led his very unruly group of Israelites into freedom, I have led the J.A.P.S. into being Jews, celebrating our Jewishness together. I don’t know how long I can continue doing this. Eventually others will have to start to take over the tasks and I am beginning to feel like that possibility will happen. Sooner or later, we pass the torch to someone else.

I can’t say how Moses must have felt by the time he sheparded his Israelites to the edge of the promised land, but I can say that I feel proud of the work I have done to get my J.A.P.S. this far and I am sooo very glad that I have you all here, my created family, here in this foreign land to celebrate with me.

So…now that we have gotten Moses out of the way, lets start this seder like every year, by lighting the holiday lights.

J.A.P.S. Passover Seder 2025

 

Passover 2022

Photo by Danielle Shevin

Finally after almost 3 years of isolation and pandemic, my group of American/Jewish/Swedish friends could meet in person and celebrate Passover together again. We gathered at the Party House on Reimersholmen as we usually have done for many years now and sat down to an organized dinner. It was so great to see all who could make it. This year our Seder plate had two additions on it.  I am generally a traditionalist and don’t like changing the contents of the Seder plate to suit current politically correct modernity but I made an exception this year. This year we added an orange and a beautiful sunflower blossom – the orange to symbolize women leading services once usually reserved only to men and the flower to remind us what is going on in Ukraine at this moment. 

Here is what I had to say before we started our service. 

It’s so nice to see all of you today. It’s been 3 years since we met to celebrate Passover in person. Technically it’s not really Passover any longer. Yesterday was the last day so I guess Passover has passed over us. Passover is over but here we are…

Here we are. Think about those words: here we are. We almost weren’t. I waited too long before trying to book the Party House and when I went to book our usual day, Good Friday, I discovered someone else had booked it before me. Saturday, påskafton was also booked, as well as Easter Sunday. Today was the only available day this weekend, so here we are.

This holiday which we celebrate every year, is especially apt this year, given what has been going on in the world right now. Passover reminds us how we had to pack up what we could carry with us and leave a land that we had been living in for many generations, at almost a moment’s notice. We didn’t even have time to let our bread rise.

A similar exodus is happening over in Ukraine right now. I can’t stop watching CNN show me how Ukrainians are being forced to flee from their homes and escape to other countries. While they aren’t being chased out by horse-drawn chariots and their bread comes in plastic bags from grocery stores, their hasty and dangerous exodus reminds me of the Passover story. It tells the tale of a people who want to be able to live in freedom and self-determination just like the Ukrainians do today.

The Passover story of the exodus from Egypt, 13 centuries before Jesus, was the founding myth of the Jewish people. But, it was just the first of many such expulsions. 7 centuries before Jesus, the Assyrian empire sacked the northern Kingdom of Israel and deported the Jews to Assyria. Then a little over a hundred years later Babylonia, besieged Jerusalem, destroyed Solomon’s Temple and carted us off to Babylonia. It took fifty years before the Jews were allowed to return to their homeland and could build a new temple. That Temple got destroyed by the Romans in 70 AD and once again Jews were scattered across the ancient world far away from their home. This time the expulsion would last for 2000 years.

During those centuries Jews were given the choice to either leave or die, by cities or countries throughout Europe and north Africa. During the early middle ages, Spain became a haven of prosperity for Jews only to be ended with the devastating expulsion by Ferdinand and Isabella in 1492. I’m not going to list all the places that first welcomed us only to later expel us. You can look it up on Wikipedia.

But in spite of all that moving around, the Jewish People survived. We learned how to carry with us our culture, our religion, our history – to not tie it down to the place we were living in. In today’s world, forced migration is getting more and more common. Sometimes because of war like in Ukraine, or because of environmental catastrophes like forest fires in the American west or rising sea levels for island nations or desertification in sub-Saharan Africa. With each new place the Jewish people were forced to move to, we learned to live there within the new rules of the place and also as Jews and when we had to leave we took with us the influences from that place and incorporated them into ourselves without losing ourselves in the process. This ability to adapt and change and still remain true to our heart is something we can teach the rest of the world in these days of involuntary migration.

So, here we are, sitting here, today, as Jews still do, in a small building on Reimersholmen, remembering that very first move. Granted we are not all here –  some of us, from my group of J.A.P.S., couldn’t make it today. Hopefully next year we can all be here together once again.

So, let’s start the seder.

Off the board

Today was my last day on the board. While a bit relieved I also feel a bit sad about it. Board?? What board you ask. Diving board? Ironing board?

About 5 years ago I started getting involved in a number of Swedish organizations. And by that I mean organizations where I was probably the only Native English Speaker in the group. My kid was growing up, a staff job had begun to replace the freelance life (which, anyone who ever had a freelance life knows, makes it hard to plan anything in advance), my family didn’t need me as much as before, I had finally begun to feel confident in speaking Swedish and I had completely stopped blow drying my hair. I felt like I had some extra time on my hands.

The first organization I joined was a group called Progressiv Judendom i Sverige (PJS). It was a non-profit association formed to bring Reform Judaism to the Jewish Community of Stockholm. As a long time member of Stockholm’s Jewish community, I had spent many years complaining about the very conservative, almost Orthodox and extremely lifeless and meaningless type of services conducted in the Great Synagogue here. When I heard that a group was forming with the intent to start holding a more liberal and different type of service, I realized that I had to put my money where my mouth was and join. When I saw that the contact person had the same telephone exchange as I did I realized that she must live right near me and it was just fated for me to be a member. I’ve been on the board ever since. I do the website. But I’m a very bad webmaster – always late updating. But we have very pleasant monthly board meetings across the park from my place in Eva-Britt’s apartment, where we eat home made soup and chat before starting our meetings.

The next group I joined was sort of an offshoot of the first. It is the infokommittén of the Jewish Community. I got volunteered for it by a fellow PJS board member but don’t regret joining. Its a loosely organized group of people working in the advertising and media branch and the main thing we have in common is that we are Jewish. We gather at the Jewish Center every 5 or 6 weeks to discuss how to keep the Jewish community here alive. In other words how to increase the number of paying members. There is a wide range of Jewishness in the group, from Orthodox to secular to cultural, with an interesting mix of personal stories and like with most European Jews a wide range of different national experiences. Everyone is very professional and whatever differences we have regarding how we practice our own brand of Jewishness never seems to get in the way. Its interesting and I get to hear about all the inside workings of the community.

Finally, the last group I joined is the one that I no longer am a member of. For almost 2 and a half years now Ive been on the board of the Thorildsplan gymnasiums föräldraförening. I guess you could call it the PTA of my son’s high school. Once again, I was on the board of a brand new organization. The woman who has been the chair and guiding force is named Ann. And it just accidentally turned out that she was the mother of one of Bevin’s three best friends in his class. Once again fate steps in. That we have our sons in common was just another reason to join. I have always been very involved in my son’s schooling, ever since I enrolled him in a parent cooperative daycare. In lower school (1-3 grades) I probably went on every day trip as a class parent that his class took. In middle school I was a class parent every year and helped plan his sixth grade class trip to Åland. I also went along as a class parent on that trip too. And in 9th grade, his final year of grammar school, I once again helped to organize their final 2 day trip, going along as class parent one more time and I ended the year as a chaperon at his school prom.

But by the time a kid reaches gymnasium (high school) it seems that most Swedish parents are no longer interested in their kid’s schooling. Very few gymnasiums have PTAs. But Ann was determined to start one at Torildsplan gymnasium. And I joined her in her quest. Together with a few other board members we would meet about 8 times during the school year in the school’s teacher’s lounge to drink our coffee and discuss how to get parents in the almost 1000 student school interested in being a member. At Open House we gave out flyers, telling them about our organization. It was an uphill battle. Parents just didn’t seem interested. Tonight was the General Annual meeting for the new school term. 5 or 6 new parents came to the meeting. Which was good, since this past spring my son graduated from Torildsplan and is now in college. Some of the new parents were willing to join the new board. Ann, whose son graduated alongside mine this spring, was still willing to take on the responsibility of being the Chair. I, however, felt my time on the board was over. I feel that its time to move on to something new. But even as I left the cafeteria and walked along the corridors headed for the door while the new board members held their first meeting, I felt sad. It was an ending and I think endings are always sad. When my son graduated this spring, it was also an ending. But up ahead, just around the corner, he had a whole new school life waiting for him to begin, in college.

I’m still on the board of PJS, I still will be going to meetings of the infokommité, but my time on the föräldraförening has ended. I wonder what is waiting for me – what is it that is just around the corner.

Family

You can pick your nose.
And you can pick your friends.
But you can’t pick your friends’ nose.
That rhyme has rattled around in my head ever since I was a little kid. I don’t know why. So much other stuff doesn’t seem to be able to stay in there but that little ditty does. I always thought it was funny for some reason. The idea of picking one’s friends. It’s not the same with family. You can’t pick your family. They become attached to you the moment you are born. And they follow you for the rest of their lives. When I was much, much younger I used to wish that we could also pick family. One goes through a certain period of one’s life when FAMILY is either embarrassing, annoying or just plain irritating. It isn’t until you move far away from them that you realize just how important FAMILY really is.

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