PASSOVER:

Wine of Joy, Wine of Conscience

by Rabbi Neal Joseph Loevinger
Temple Beth-El, Poughkeepsie, NY
COEJL Board Member

One of the most well-known customs of the Pesach Seder is to spill or pour out a drop of wine during the recitation of the ten plagues. There are various ways this is accomplished: with a spoon, tipping the cup, or using one's finger, but the basic point, explained in most printed Haggadot [Seder booklets], is that our feelings of sweetness and gratitude (represented by a full cup of wine) are diminished by the sufferings of others. Given that the "others" in this case are the very people who enslaved and oppressed our ancestors, the act of spilling wine is rather remarkable- it's not so easy to truly feel that one's joy is diminished because of the sufferings of one's enemy. In fact, the natural human reaction is the opposite, to rejoice in the sufferings of one's enemy; this ritual calls us to confront the moral implications of believing that all people are "b'tzelem Elohim," or made in the Image of God.

Many modern Haddagot provide commentary or alternative readings for the traditional  plagues (you know, the blood, frogs, lice . . . . ), often reframing the Biblical story in terms of modern problems, such as pollution, deforestation, war, famine, and other social and environmental causes of suffering. The desire to connect the moral worldview of the traditional Seder ritual with conditions in the modern world is exactly the goal, but to me, naming "modern plagues" which diminish our cup of joy sometimes misses a crucial point, which is that the traditional "ten plagues" caused suffering to others in order to bring liberation to the Israelites. In other words, in naming the plagues, we remind ourselves that something which was good for us had a cost to somebody else. It might have been a cost demanded by justice, but the suffering of the Egyptians, as portrayed in the Biblical account, was real and worthy of remembrance.

With that in mind, I'd propose that any naming of "modern plagues" be oriented towards reminding Seder participants that one person's freedom may be another person's suffering. For example, North Americans enjoy the opportunity to purchase fruits and vegetables, flowers, and meats produced abroad, often under brutal labor and environmental conditions; our luxury is somebody else's suffering. Our freedom to drive as much as we like "drives" a world market in oil with obvious connections to huge political, military, and environmental problems. Even the clothes on my back may have been produced in a sweatshop eerily similar to conditions of slavery - and of course, the meat on many Pesach tables came from animals raised and slaughtered under conditions which should cause anyone to stop and think about the cost of their comfort.

Seen this way, the Seder ritual of spilling the wine is a profound moment of introspection and conscience, confronting each of us with the reality that in a rapidly globalizing world, one person can never be disconnected from the systems which literally enslave others and distress our planet. The good news is that it's in the celebration of our freedom that we find the courage to change our ways and work for social and environmental justice- such freedom is truly something to celebrate.