My Catholic Girl Seder
Is church membership necessary for the familiarity and comfort that religious rituals provide ?
My first and only Seder was in high school. At the time, I did not appreciate the forward thinking of Sister Timothy. With Passover approaching, my thoughts turn to the significance of religious ritual. Do I need to call one church “home” for religious observance?
Sister Timothy (never “Tim”) was small, round and always had a smile. Her World Cultures class was way ahead of its time, highlighting and appreciating cultural events in the world. It was April 1972. What did a bunch of Catholic School girls at Villa Joseph Marie High School know about Passover? Nothing. Sister Timothy did not have to look far to stretch our minds. I am so thankful she did.
Sister Timothy organized a Seder meal during our class time. The desks were lined up in a tight row across the classroom. White table cloths, paper plates, plastic cups, matzah and other foods were distributed. We began with a sip of apple juice while Sister Timothy explained the symbolism of the bitter herbs.
We were probably giggling or rolling our eyes.
I remember breaking the matzah — to be eaten later in the Seder. Sister Timothy read the story of the Israelites’ liberation from slavery in Egypt, including the Four Questions and the recitation of the ten plagues.
We all took turns reading but probably just looked forward to eating.
The apples, nuts and juice plus the other piece of matzah were enjoyed at the end of our “service.” Over the years, I marveled as friends told me of their family Seder dinners and how they celebrated. I tried many times to wrangle an invitation in hopes of participating in the real thing. It hasn’t happened yet.
In the Catholic tradition of Lent, my family observed meatless Fridays. Holy Thursday and Good Friday services were slow, reflective events where we contemplated sin and sacrifice. Easter Sunday was chocolate and honey baked ham.
Passover, although also a solemn event, has the spirit of family and community that I am reminded of every year.
This year at Easter, I found myself church shopping, looking for a meaningful experience, seeking to capture … I don’t even know what. For years our family attended a wonderful Presbyterian church in our hometown. Now at a new downsized and empty-nest address, I have not settled on a church home.
What is magical and wonderful about the Seder, from my Catholic school girl lens, is that it is experienced with family and friends. At the Episcopal high mass, there was a foot washing, communion, and incense so thick I started to sneeze. It was a beautiful service, but I was there alone and ultimately left feeling empty.
Easter service at another church—this time with my husband in attendance—felt much more like a community celebration. Should I join a church to be more fully immersed in this feeling of community?
Yesterday, after speaking to a friend about my wonderings, she has invited me next year for Seder. I was thrilled and wondering what I should bring.
Until then, my honey baked ham is in the oven.
