For the first five years of my schooling, I went to a small parochial school, and we celebrated Holy Week—from Palm Sunday on through Good Friday. I very distinctly remember the days that we got to eat a Seder meal (much like the Last Supper of Jesus and His disciples) because we had to dress up “like Jesus.” Wearing my bathrobe and my flip flops to school seemed so cool and weird! And perhaps even stranger…my dad was on staff at the church that the school was connected to. So, he actually wore HIS bathrobe and flip flips too! No other kids were quite so lucky as to see their father in his pjs at school!
That day though also made me fearful and apprehensive. It was the day that horseradish would be put on my plate. It represented “bitter herbs” which were supposed to remind us of the bitterness of slavery that the Jews had to undergo. Whatever horseradish was, I knew at the time that it couldn’t be good. I watched a fellow classmate try some, start laughing, have it come out of his nose, and then promptly start crying. That was enough for me. I didn’t want any bitter herbs. And yet we didn’t have a choice! It was put on our plate. I just prayed it wouldn’t touch the sweet apple/cinnamon mixture next to it.
A few years ago in California, I hosted my very own seder with three dear friends. We researched how to make and serve the traditional seder elements. We had some gross grape wine, lamb, homemade unleavened bread, “haroseth” (that sweet apple/cinnamon/nut mixture). We sat cross-legged around my coffee table, while one of my friends walked us through the rituals, prayers, specific drinks of wine. It was great fun and added a little more meaning to our Easter season as we thought about the ancient Passover.
Tonight I will eat another seder, at church with mom and dad (He and I won’t be wearing our pjs. Although he did don a robe in public again on Saturday, dressing up like Jesus for the church’s annual community easter event for kids. In fact, one father told his little girl that I was "Jesus' daughter" as I face-painted her cheek. Another little girl wanted to know why my dad was hiding in a cave. Some things never change.) The seder will remind us of the Jewish trials so many years ago, but then ultimately the freedom we have today in Christ.
Bring on that horseradish!
1 comment:
Holla! I'd like to give a shout out to Grace Lutheran, and Ms. St. Martin for making me eat those bitter herbs. I too shed some tears on those days. Thanks for bringing back some memories!
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