My Seder plate is filled with hope

Last night, as we gathered under the full moon of freedom, our hearts were

not only filled with memory, but with fear, urgency, and deep love for our people.

We know this night.

We have lived this night before.

We know the feeling of our ancestors, running in the dark, stepping into the unknown, carrying what they could, trusting in something not yet visible. Tonight, many of our people in Israel are again under threat, sheltering, listening, waiting. The ancient story is no longer only memory. It is present.

This will be a Passover for the ages.

And so we hold fast to one of Judaism’s most quiet and powerful teachings, Pesach Sheni, the Second Passover.

A month after the first Passover, those who could not bring the offering in its proper time were given another chance.

Another moment.

Another doorway.

Another possibility.

If not this month, next month.

If not this year, next year in Jerusalem.

Pesach Sheni reminds us that redemption is not lost when it is delayed. Hope is not extinguished when it is deferred. There is always another opening, another path, another chance to arrive.

This is the Jewish spirit.

Always with hope.

Always reaching toward better days.

Always carrying forward.

Whether you are in a bomb shelter or a safe room, in your city apartment or suburban home, on a farm or wherever you are tonight, know that you are part of a people bound together across time and space.

Under this same full moon that once guided our ancestors to freedom, may we be held.

May we be protected.

May we be strengthened.

May the Holy One bless and keep the Jewish people tonight.

May we move from fear toward safety, from darkness toward light, from narrowness toward expansiveness.

And may we yet gather in days of peace, telling this story not in fear, but in gratitude.

Chag Pesach Sameach.

With love and hope, always.