As I gathered with my family for this year’s Passover Seder, the weight of our shared history felt particularly heavy. The Haggadah’s refrain, “In every generation, they rise against us, to annihilate us, but the Holy One, Blessed Be, saves us from their hand,” resonated more deeply than ever.

My nephew, Rabbi Yair Silverman, highlighted another crucial aspect: “In every generation, one is obligated to see himself as though he, personally, had come out of Egypt.” For my parents, Holocaust survivors from Hungary, this sentiment was a constant presence. Today, I reflect on how our current uncertainties—our conflicts, our struggles for safety—might be our generation’s “narrow straits”—our Mitzrayim.

In Israel, Passover transcends being merely a holiday; it becomes a collective experience. Nearly all Jewish Israelis—95%—scrub their homes of hametz (leavened bread) and unite for a Seder, regardless of their level of religious observance. This shared ritual is a testament to our common heritage, much like the 97% who uphold the practice of circumcising newborn boys. These traditions are not just religious observances; they are reminders of our collective identity in the face of changing times.

Observance and Celebration

At the heart of the Seder is the retelling of our story—our escape from Egyptian slavery. We savour symbolic foods: matza, the unleavened bread, and bitter herbs, or maror, representing both our suffering and our liberation.

Passover spans seven days (eight outside Israel) and begins and ends with days akin to the Sabbath. Work halts, schools close, and shops shut their doors. The intermediate days are semi-festive; while many shops and eateries stay open, schools and workplaces often pause. This period becomes a time for leisure and connection, with families venturing into the countryside, visiting museums, and enjoying complimentary attractions.

Traditionally, my family would escape to the Dead Sea or Northern Galilee during this time. However, just as every generation has challenges, this year was different. Amid the ongoing conflict with Hamas and Hezbollah, safety concerns prompted us to stay closer to home. Instead, we spent a few days by the Tel Aviv beach, where we encountered displaced families whose struggles are often overshadowed by the broader narrative.

Life Amidst Conflict

Despite the turmoil, life on Tel Aviv’s beaches carried on. People walked, jogged, and enjoyed the sea. Families played in the sand, couples strolled hand in hand, and children laughed in the waves. This scene served as a reminder that life and resilience continue, even in the face of persistent threats.

Yet, the shadow looms large. Over 130 Israeli citizens remain captive in Gaza’s underground tunnels—a grim reminder of the high stakes we face. As a nation, we continue to pray for their release and peace. While the threat of terrorism is ever-present, so is our unwavering belief in Israel’s future.

Ancient Prophecies and Contemporary Realities

In uncertain times, many people find comfort in ancient wisdom. Recently, I came across a video circulating on social media that featured a Talmudic passage predicting a future where world leaders would be in conflict, often with Israel caught in the middle. Yet, the video also conveyed a hopeful vision of Israel’s redemption—free from suffering and turmoil. This perspective inspired me, suggesting that even amid the chaos, a greater plan might unfold.

As Israel continues to be a major topic in global conversations, we have a unique opportunity to promote messages of peace and unity. These ancient prophecies remind us that our stories are interconnected, regardless of our backgrounds. I hope for a day when those visions become a reality—when peace prevails and nations unite in harmony. It’s a dream we can all share.

The Weight of a Simple Question

As we navigate these uncertain times, one question captures the collective mood with striking clarity. For a glimpse into how the everyday mood in Israel has been shaped by current events, a passage from a Times of Israel article sums it up nicely:

“As we approach the seder, the night of many questions, I am struck by the one question that has haunted the last six months. It has choked us for air, narrowed the passage of the esophagus, magnified the racing beats of the heart, made the dreaded lump of the gut ever heavier and left the most articulate dumbfounded. A simple question. A frequent and ordinary one. Suddenly unbearable.

‘How are you?’

In Israel, this baseline greeting of civil society has become the mourner’s mirror, frightful to look into. When trying for an authentic answer, one is left to confront themselves, as with the forceful wet slap of a wave that unsettles the balance of our precarious footing.

With the shock and trauma of grief, horror of the unknown, and fear of what is yet to come, one popular response has emerged. The beloved poet Haim Gouri, depicting the challenges of social etiquette during an entirely different time in his poem Bakasha- Request ‘שלומי כשלום עמי’ ‘I am as my nation is.’ This reply deflects but also expresses the challenges of the moment from within an awareness of our social context. The blurred borders of our personal and communal identities at once horrify and console. I feel as my neighbor and nation feels. As such, I am not alone.”

Ancient texts continue to speak to us, especially in times like these. They remind us that despite the turmoil, we are part of a larger narrative—guided by divine providence and carrying an enduring destiny for the Jewish people. As the world focuses on Israel, we bear the responsibility to share our timeless message of peace and unity.

Ultimately, the fulfillment of these ancient prophecies is within our grasp. We must nurture hope and strive for a future where peace takes root and nations turn their weapons into tools for growth and brotherhood. Until that day arrives, we hold fast to our traditions and draw strength from our resilience, trusting that together, we will navigate these uncertain times and emerge stronger.