(*Note to reader/listener: if any of this triggers or offends you, which I hope it doesn’t, please know I understand…)
Click below for the audio file!
Oh how I just relish in this season of the year when especially the Christian and Jewish holidays overlap!
It makes me feel whole. It makes me feel fulfilled. I feel like an over-puffed popover. Or like those delightfully fluffy comforters and pillows in fancy hotel rooms. Other times during the year, my faith can feel like one of those tulips in a Holland field of magnificent multi-colored blooms. But when the holidays overlap, then I feel like one of those same tulips that is also wide as can be, letting the style and inner stripes on the petals reveal themselves. Or like Maria from Sound of Music, singing through those iconic hills in Austria. It’s truly wonderful!
See most of my life I’ve often felt like I need to chose which religious or spiritual team to be on.
Like when I was in high school with a threesome of my best friends, and one friend wanted to go to the movies, and the other one wanted to take the train to the Village. I didn’t want to have to chose, because it was like in choosing what to do, I almost felt like I was choosing which friend I liked better—or in the case of my mixed religious family—I’d have to chose which family I loved more.
In Brooklyn, I always felt more Jewish. Most of my friends were Jewish, my dad’s Jewish family lived there, and school was always closed for the major Jewish holidays. But when we visited my mom’s family in Ohio, they were all Christian and we went to church with them every Sunday.
I suppose having both families live so far apart really did shield me from a conflict that could have lead to a spiritual or family wound. And in many ways, even though I often felt like I didn’t fully belong, and that’s hard for any growing or even adult person, I am grateful for the perspective and understanding it’s given me to relate to people in a way I wouldn’t be able to otherwise.
My own long winding path to my personal spiritual Home is for another day, but in the mean time there’s two specific experiences when this season has planted a memory of feelings that I cherish—just feelings. Internal shifts and jumps that happened deep within. It wasn’t a memory of any “doing” or “happening”- just times when there was a convening of Spirit beyond my physical understanding and place of being.
The first experience was about 10 years ago, and about 5 years after my beloved Jewish Grandma Rose died, which actually happened to be during this same season.
This particular year, the anniversary of her passing was also over Easter weekend and I was in church. As I was in deep reflection about the meaning of Easter, I was also in a deep remembrance of my grandma. ALL at once emotion welled up in my chest and throat as the pastor was talking about the love of Jesus even though He died. And in that SAME moment, I suddenly felt joyful wonder realizing that my grandma’s love for me also transcended her own death! And in feeling that heart and soul expansion of love, I felt the true love of Jesus hit me, and then the love of my grandmother enveloped me again, like it hadn’t since she died. And back and forth, bigger and bigger these wondrous loves were lifting my spirit to a depth and height I hadn’t felt before! Oh it was wonderful!
And— oh the irony of the love of my Jewish Grandmother bringing me to a tangible understanding of the love of Jesus, and then that love bringing me to a closer connection to my beloved grandma. It’s really rather mind boggling. Like the mixing of oil and vinegar- they never fully integrate! Actually- my grandmother often mixed the two (with garlic of course) and made her own salad dressing….but I digress…
In reflection, I suppose it was this “event” that sort of gave me an internal unspoken permission to finally acknowledge and celebrate both parts of my ancestry and upbringing.
Over the years, I have hosted a few Passover Seder’s- however simple or ritualistic they have been. And many years I just make sure to at least have some matzah in the house and I make some holiday favorites serving them on our made in Israel dishware. As my husband and kids are vegetarian I have even found a surprisingly tasty vegetarian “liver” pate and stuffed cabbage recipe. And we have used a beet instead of a lamb shank on the Seder plate.
But whichever way I have had the capacity to recognize the tradition and traditions, I am always aware of the deep wonder that each aspect of Easter and Passover symbolize; especially when the whole story is laid out to include the overlapping of both faiths!
The second experience of heart expanding spiritual blending came most recently just a couple of weeks ago. I was struggling with a cycle of surrender (I see you in the back nodding your head in understanding!) The image I had to describe the feeling, was as if I was a child, and a parent or adult was assertively holding my hand on the way to a possibly fun but also scary amusement park ride. The child wasn’t terrified or having a temper-tantrum. She was actually in some ways excited! I mean from the distance the ferris wheel looked like it could be a lot of fun! But that ferris wheel also looked quite high, so feelings of anxiety kept the girl trying to pull her hand back.
For maybe over a week, I sort of wrestled with this feeling, this image. And I asked God, “what is it that is holding me back from surrendering?” Sometimes I do feel a clear answer come into my heart or consciousness when I ask God for direction, but this time there was nothing really clear that came up.
Until…until I read the writing on a box of matzah…
This part of the story started a few months ago, back in December, when “happenstance” led me to meet a new friend. A friend that my husband is weary of because of how we met.
In pre- holiday craze, when I was craving some alone time at a cafe, as I was driving out of the parking lot I accidentally bumped into a blue-gray Tesla! This was the first time I had ever done something like this, and the scratch and small dent was really so minor; there were no real financial or physical repercussion from this “collision.” So in some which way, I couldn’t help but trust that there was something to this “meeting” even if it wasn’t obvious at the time. Well, I at least didn’t panic and get my panties all in bunch. So I was grateful to not have that added stress during an already challenging time of year! We exchanged contact information, wished each other well and went on our separate ways.
Well then couple of months later I had to contact her again for car insurance reasons, and that text lead to another and then we met for lunch!
Guess what, my new friend is Jewish! Who knew? In a place like Oklahoma City, here in the midwest, the first friend I meet is Jewish?!
Before meeting her for the 2nd time yesterday, which also happened to be the day before Passover started, I was running around from store to store looking for that box of matzah for the holiday. I have NO idea why I didn’t just grab a couple of boxes when I had seen them at grocery stores a few weeks ago. So yes, there is a Jewish community here in Oklahoma City, but it seems like the shelves are stocked just for that specific number of individuals tallied on the latest census- no extras! All I found was a few gluten free boxes of matzah for 8 dollars a box!
In one last ditch effort I texted my new friend, “you don’t by any chance have an extra box of matzah to spare, do you?”
She replied that she also had been on a matzah hunt herself, and had just enough for her Seder. But then she texted again remembering her Rabbi had given her a box of very traditional handmade matzah, and I could have it if I wanted. Realizing it was either that or I go back for that gluten free box, I jumped on the offer!
After returning home from our coffee date, as I was taking that pause in my day when I go from self-hood to mom-hood, the image of the girl resisting the pull to the ferris wheel came back into my consciousness. In a moment of intentional distraction from the discomfort the image gave me, I looked at the matzah box my friend had just given me and it said: “Maztah is called ‘The Bread of Faith’”. And I thought, oh that’s nice. It’s something I kinda knew already, and was more marveled by the fancy box—completely unlike the usual Manishevitz or Yehuda boxes of matzah I buy. After a moment, I got up to put my morning coffee mug into the dishwasher before doing one or two things and then getting the kids from school.
As I walked to the kitchen with the words, “The Bread of Faith” still in my brain, the little girl resisting going to the ferris wheel arose in my consciousness again in a clear image. This time, though, Jesus took her hand and said: “let’s go.” The girl mater of factly relaxed and said, “okay, let’s go…” The anxiety left the little girl and I physically felt calm again. Wow….
“The Bread of Faith” which Jews eat during a holiday that remembers how God saved them, and Jesus using “The Bread of Faith” in the Last Super/Passover Seder, was also the same message for my recent surrender to do something uncomfortable. Amazeballs!
Now, I’m not really sure what all entails in this recent surrender, and I do still feel a bit uncomfortable. But now I can conjure up that image, feeling Jesus holding my hand, and sense all will be okay…In Faith….
Beautifully lived and shared - thank you Clara. Your experience creates space for us all.
I have tears running down my face, Clara. Thank you for sharing. I hear your voice telling your story! Yesterday evening during a Bible study with friends in our living room we talked about the cloud of witnesses described in the 11th chapter of Hebrews, and how important and encouraging it is to hear stories of faith and trust. The two teenagers in the group said that they had basically never heard anyone here talk about their personal faith experiences. We need to change that. Thank you for finding authentic words to describe your reality. That's always the challenge. Looking forward to following your writing!