An Ethic of Welcoming

I think that the correct explanation of ha lachma anya has to do with the custom before the reading of the Haggadah, of breaking a matzah and covering half of it with a cloth, and then removing the Passover plate… so that there is reason to ask, “why are we doing this,” It was decreed that one should invite the poor so they will come to his table and share the food. When they mentioned the matzah, it was not to explain the reason for the commandment or its purpose. This was not the place for this explanation; that would come later on. Rather, it was way of saying, “To those who are in need of matzah and don’t have, come share my matzah for it is the bread of the needy and it is good for you. On this night we are all equal. Do not be embarrassed because you are needy; so were our ancestors in Egypt.” He says this out of humility speaking to the heart of the needy. That is why he calls matzah, bread of poverty.

This is a strange invitation: "This is the bread of oppression our fathers ate in the land of Egypt. Let all who are hungry come in and eat." What hospitality is it to offer the hungry the taste of suffering? In fact, though, this is a profound insight into the nature of slavery and freedom. As noted, matza represents two things: it is the food of slaves, and also the bread eaten by the Israelites as they left Egypt in liberty. What transforms the bread of oppression into the bread of freedom is the willingness to share it with others....

Sharing food is the first act through which slaves become free human beings. One who fears tomorrow does not offer his bread to others. But one who is willing to divide his food with a stranger has already shown himself to be capable of fellowship and faith, the two things from which hope is born. That is why we begin the seder by inviting others to join us. Bread shared is no longer the bread of oppression. Reaching out to others, giving help to the needy and companionship to those who are along, we bring freedom into the world, and with freedom, God.

Rav Kook - Opening is an invitation because chesed is the sine qua non of Abraham, and the reason why they are redeemed.

:Let a little water be brought; bathe your feet and recline under the tree.

And let me fetch a morsel of bread that you may refresh yourselves; then go on—seeing that you have come your servant’s way.” They replied, “Do as you have said.”

Abraham hastened into the tent to Sarah, and said, “Quick, three seahs of choice flour! Knead and make cakes!”

Note that Amon and Moav only exist becuase of the merit of Abraham, for Lot was saved on his behalf. Amon and Moab repeat the sin of Sodom, and therefore have no part in the Jewish people.

Excerpt by an Essay by Fred Klein- YOM Kippur, 2018

During the High Holidays we approach God, asking God to open the doors of life and blessing to us for yet another year. And wouldn’t you know it? We approach God like people seeking safe passage to the land of the living.

The passage is supposed to arouse God to act with compassion. We assume that God will turn to us, seeing we are like ‘paupers’ and ‘beggars’, and allow us to enter through the door of life. In invoking “God’s memory”, we ask God to remember our long-standing relationship, even if we have gone astray and can offer little. In synagogue, we sing

These prayers only makes sense in a world dominated by the ethic of of chesed, of compassion.

But today- and throughout history- there have been people who posit an alternate universe and morality in which greatness at root is defined by power and survival of the fittest. In that alternate universe this prayer does not elicit mercy at all. Rather it elicits disgust. If a person has found himself in such a decrepit state, it must be because he deserves it. How many people do you know say, “The reason there are poor is because they are lazy.” Indeed, the very notion of charity and compassion are problematic words, because each person should take responsibility for their own life. What sense do these prayers make in a world like that? ^[1]

This world view ironically takes hold when people achieve more security, not less. People become less attuned to the suffering of others, as they see themselves as charting their own destiny. They believe the claim that ‘my power and strength of my hands have achieved this success’ (Deuteronomy 8:17). In our world of science, technology, and rampant secularism, it is easy to forget that our very lives are tenuous at any moment, and that we are not truly in control. In that same Deuteronomy passage, the Torah predicts that with the blessing of plenty and success we will ‘forget’ the lessons of the desert. In the wilderness God gave us miraculous food in the form of manna to teach that God is the source of all blessing at all times. In other words, the very gifts of success contain within them a great temptation that needs to constantly be checked, and in no period in human history have we had so many gifts of success.^[2]

The liturgy of the high holidays focuses us upon an undeniable fact that this cult of success is an illusion- a delusion. We remember who we really are in this world, and the very fragility of our existence every day. “Who will live and who will dies? Who will become wealthy and who poor?” We remember that God has created the world and we His creatures. We grapple with the truth that we truly own nothing, and have little control over our ultimate destiny, a destiny that meets us all. Realizing this, we realize we are indeed like refugees on this earth, and we ask for a port of entry, a place in the land of the living. We ask for compassion and mercy.

When we stand before God asking us to let us through, do we see ourselves as paupers or as deserving people? How do we hope that God sees us- with compassion or disdain? And if we ask God to have compassion upon us because we are like the poor and destitute, clamoring at God’s gate, how can we not express that same disposition towards other. “As God is merciful, so you are merciful” (Sifrei). If we remember who we really are in this world, totally dependent upon the kindness of the ultimate Other, how can we possibly forget the responsibility we have to care for God’s children?