It would have been enough.
[Originally published at www.withinwithout.org]I went to a passover seder this evening.. a group of almost 20 of us, even more if you count the many children running around throughout the evening. It was actually my first time at a passover meal as an adult. My memory brings me back to 4th grade where we might have learned about the Passover Plate, although all I can clearly remember is my first ever taste of horseradich. In any case, tonight's festive meal was shared with a dear group of friends, only a handful of which were raised Jewish. There were many questions along the way, lots of laughter, many glasses of wine and amazing food prepared by many in the group. The evening was relaxed and unrushed, no one needing to get anywhere, and the warmth in the room was as much from the uplifting conversation as it was from the number of people in the room.
My favorite part of the seder was singing a praise of thanks called Dahyenu. It was explained to mean "even if God had only done this one thing (bringing the Isrealites out of Egypt), it would have been enough." I suppose the reason it struck me so deeply was that I'm so often looking for more blessings and wanting greater and greater things out of my life and from God, and so infrequently do I reflect on all that has been done and given to me already. And yes, here are the Isrealites, so thankful for being brought out of slavery, rejoicing for what they've been given, knowing that while God could do more, what he had done was truly enough.
Tomorrow I join back with my friends to celebrate the fulfillment of the promises of passover. I look forward to it, but right now, in this moment, I am experiencing that deep lonliness that always seems (for me) to accompany the end of a time of authentic community. I suppose this could be part of my process of discerning my own search for community either here or elsewhere over the next year(s), but the tears and lonliness had found me before I even started the car to drive home. And as for what I think I'm searching for... there are certainly glimpses of it here, but I feel so needy sometimes... when everyone has their family and their home and their busy lives and all I have is myself to go home to (and the cats and the mess in my kitchen). I should be used to being alone by now, I think, but these emotion still catch me by surprise sometimes.
Anyway, I remember reading through some blogs after Mark Palmer's death a few weeks ago of people that were connected with him in some way. I can't find the post I read right now, but I remember this quote (my paraphrase) written by his friends who had gathered to mourn his death: I'd rather be with you and be in pain, than be alone and be at peace.
And it's true, isn't that what community is or should be?
Still, I must and should remain thankful for what I have. These moments that I shared this evening, the friendships that I am developing and the deep sense of belonging I felt while sharing in this meal with others whom I love. Of course there is more that I would want, but if this is all that I have been given, I must remember - dahyenu.
L’shana ha’ba-ah b’Yerushalayim.
posted by Lara @ 11:35 PM
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