05 Passover, Easter, and Me
Public (aka free) Portion
Though I was adopted at birth into a Jewish family, whenever I asked about my biological mother I was curtly told that she was Jewish. That snide reply always created confusion because how can you say on one hand you know 100% that she was Jewish, yet you have no other information about her? I would never accuse my parents of lying, because that goes against that commandment about honor thy mother and father.
Many years later I found out via a DNA test that I do not have what is referred to as the Ashkenazi gene. Not even a trace. So, now I have scientific proof supporting my hunch.
During the DCF interviews my bio mom had with her case manager (both before and after giving birth to me), either she was not asked, or her chosen religion was not recorded.
My parents already had adopted one son, and I joined the family a few years after him. We are not blood-related.
Our adopted parents raised us with such a solid Jewish upbringing that he would simply make up Jewish holidays as an excuse to get out of school work or why he missed a sports practice. He was attending an Episcopalian private school and they seriously seemed to believe him, and that their soccer team was so desperate for a decent goalie that they looked the other way. I followed him several times years later because it had a great reputation as far as education went. The sports program was well respected as any nearly all-white religious school could be expected to have.
Remember how I typed that the school was rooted in Episcopalian theology? Well, my brother was one of the first students to identify as Jewish.
Little tidbit, our mom used to throw a shit fit because all the pre-event prayers ended in something similar to, “the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost”. She complained loud enough that it was embarrassing. It wasn’t like we HAD to attend the school. Of course, there was a vocal group fighting hard to keep certain religions from muddling up the student population.
By the time I showed up maybe a dozen Jewish students were attending, but beyond my brother, only a couple of others admitted they were Jewish. I didn’t have a choice since my brother was pretty much the self-appointed ambassador of Judaism and the holidays that were based around the religion.
I won’t get into the crap I survived while attending this particular private school, that is for a future post or two.
Back to how well our parents raised us in the teachings of the Torah.
Yes, both of my siblings were bar/bat mitzvahed (that time-honored tradition when a 13 year old becomes a man or woman in the eyes of the Torah). Yes, our parents kept a Kosher home, yep, we went to as many Shabbat services as humanly possible based on our busy schedules. Heck, I have even been to Israel a few times (yet another future post or two). I even have relatives who have immigrated to Israel. More power to them and I’m glad they followed their heart.
So, back to how we were raised. For me, I never really understood the hypocrisy of keeping kosher at home, and then dining on lobster or shrimp outside the home (neither are kosher). I was the kid who went to the JCC Summer Camp because they were part of one of the founding families. Then got shipped off to a nearly all Jewish Summer camp for six or seven years near Cleveland, GA that was sponsored by the Atlanta JCC.
At the Maitland JCC there used to be a plaque on the wall, not sure what happened to it once that building was demolished to make way for a newer shinier building. Same thing for our temple, though my parents didn’t move to the Orlando area until the late 50s, the temple they joined was the most orthodox one possible at the time.
Mark, dude, what does this have to do with Passover or even remotely Easter? I will explain the Passover portion in a minute, but to find out why I hold Easter holy, please become a paying subscriber.
For those of you out there who have never attended a Passover Seder, it is a long as hell religious service disguised as a meal. You can find Passover Seders happening in private homes, hotels, social halls, etc. The narrative is about how the Jewish people were led out of Egypt by Moses and into the land of milk and honey. The trek through the desert took 40 years.
We know this because the Torah tells us this, plus we have a Passover guide called the Haggadah, and well, just believe everything you are being told because that is how you were raised. Our parents and elders (teachers, rabbis, etc) would neeeevvvveeeerr flat-out lie, right? More on that in future posts.
So, I attended Sunday School until I was 15ish or so. Hebrew School was in the rearview mirror after my bar mitzvah, but then I graduated from Hebrew High. Oh baby, oh baby. This was a combined effort of the three temples in the greater Orlando area, and it taught us, or in my case attempted to, in a more contemporary class structure. We met at night, after dinner. So, let me draw you a picture, mid-teens, trying to fit in, can’t attend school functions because of “Hebrew High” while trying really hard to suppress that I was Jewish. Come on people, how many Jews do you know who are naturally blonde with blue eyes? Plus, I’ll try to look past the concept that every time we had a play at the JCC or temple dealing with the Holocaust, I automatically knew my role was either representing the entire Nazi regime, Hitler himself, or German citizens. Then I got yelled at for getting into character one day and drawing a Swastika or two. This is when my Sunday School classmates were openly singing songs from Pink Floyd’s The Wall, including the song “In the Flesh”.
My only semester attending Hebrew High ended in disaster. One of the two classes I chose was titled “What to do when they come knocking” and was meant to empower us against those evil Mormons and others who wanted to share their Godly teachings with us. This was a six-week course!! Our final exam was having actual missionaries come to the class and attempt to come into our home (the classroom). I think there were a dozen students. The missionaries had a few minutes to get past the stoic Jewish head of household. We went alphabetically. There was the telltale knock, and when I opened the door they did their intro spiel and when they asked if they could come in I said yes. My teacher immediately stopped me to announce that I just failed the class (as if my life depended upon it). “WHY DID YOU JUST LET THEM IN!!” He yelled, and not in the form of a question. I just remember telling him something along the lines of, “They are only in my foyer, and it is raining outside. So being a polite human I allowed them into my house.” “Plus I was curious to hear why they thought their religion was better than Judaism”. My teacher was pissed at this point. Go to the office and call your parents to come get you. You are going to marry a goy (I did marry someone who wasn’t Jewish, and out of respect to my dad I did have a Jewish wedding with all the Hebrew being translated to English).
Dude… get to what this has to do with Passover already!
The concept behind going to Hebrew school twice a week for six years was that by the time you turned 13 you could read Hebrew well enough that you didn’t need to have your ENTIRE bar mitzvah service transliterated. After all, as most Jewish kids at that age will tell you, it wasn’t about memorizing the service, but the party that your parents were throwing Saturday night, THAT was really the most important thing.
Yep, my parents did a great job raising me as an observant Jew. So well that one weekend, when I was about 14/15, I was at my Grandma’s in Miami, and when she asked me what I wanted to eat I just said a ham and cheese sandwich. Ham is not kosher, nor is the mixing of meat and dairy. I will never forget her picking up the phone and yelling at my dad for how terrible of a job he did for not raising me as a proper Jew. When he showed up the next day to pick me up, he asked me why did I say ham and cheese sandwich. Because that is what I wanted and reminded him we have ham in our subs that we buy at the store when we go fishing. I know he wanted to slam his black onyx pinky ring hard into my temple, but he resisted until we had left her apartment. While we walked on the elevator he told me to take off my glasses. A powerful backhanded smack followed. Enough to adjust anyone’s “halo”. Remember the term “halo” it shows up again in a future post.
Remember how I just told you how I had a Jewish wedding out of respect for my Dad? The sole reason I did was because I didn’t want him to have to face his mom’s wrath once again about how lousy of a job he and my mom did in raising me as an outstanding Jewish fellow.
During the Passover Seder, there are paragraphs and prayers that the youngest are supposed to read. My grandpa on my mom’s side used to sit next to me so that he could feed me the lines to the four questions in Hebrew (something that I never memorized back in Hebrew school but I can still hear my Grandpa telling me the lines). The other portion was where the smartest asked questions, that went to my sister, the questions asked by the oldest went to our brother, and that always somehow left me with the questions made by the inquisitive one. Yep, fits me because honestly, I wasn’t there during the time of Moses, so who am I to say what did or did not happen? We are taught to just believe the Torah as written law, just like other faiths and the New Testament or whichever prayer book they use.
To find out about my connection to Easter, please become a paid subscriber, it will be money well spent.
Thank you, Mark