A Fifth Question for an Eleventh Plague: Passover in the Time of COVID

By Joel Steinhaus with Lakshmi Rengarajan

“Why is this night different from all other nights?”, begins the four questions asked by Jews and their guests at traditional Passover holiday gatherings around the world today and tomorrow.

I have always loved the Passover holiday. At its core is the seder, which means order, but colloquially is used to refer to the Passover meal wherein families and friends gather together and recount the story of Moses and the Israelites gaining their freedom from slavery in Egypt.

But to ask that question? This year? The chutzpah!

The famous question is meant as a reflection on what sets Passover — the annual remembrance of the Israelites’ exodus from Egypt, leading to receiving the Ten Commandments and returning to their ancestral homeland — apart from the rest of the year.

This year, I have been pondering a fifth question: “Why is ​this​ ‘this night’ different from all other ‘this nights’?”

Growing up, we would gather at my grandparents’ house, and take turns retelling parts of the story. For me, seders were about seeing extended family and longing for the reading to end and the eating to begin. In adulthood, I began to host my own seders. Hosting was a chance to prioritize the elements that I most valued: including Jewish and non-Jewish friends alike, spending time together with great food, wine and company, and reflecting on the themes of freedom from oppression and rebirth in its many forms. This year Passover will draw into stark relief how the absence of physical proximity affects our ability to connect. As I peer into the planning of this year’s seder, I know we must adjust, but what matters has not changed. I know a Zoom seder requires a lot more than turning on the camera, but what exactly? How can we make this year’s seder feel as connected as possible? What are new things we can try?

With the help of a former colleague, Lakshmi Rengarajan, previously WeWork’s Head of Workplace Connection, we explored how we might try to foster connection at this year’s seder. So here goes:

1. Don’t Just Zoom: We, like many, are going to attempt to include people on digital devices. Lakshmi says, “In order to give people who are on screen the same status as those in the room, you actually must elevate them in order to help them feel truly included. That means paying particular attention to their attempts to participate and do not let them get lost in the shuffle. It’s very easy for them to feel ignored or sidelined.” At our seder, virtual guests will have their own place settings and dedicated screens, unless they prefer observer status, which brings us to…
2. Engage Virtual Guests Beforehand: Lakshmi explains that participation means different things to different people. “Some people feel involved by talking, some by being listened to, some just by being able to observe. Ask virtual guests how they want to be included ahead of time,” she says. We are also going to prepare them for what to expect in the “run of show”. Lakshmi adds that “some people desire participation through a physical task,” which might include…
3. Synchronous Activity: “The act of trying to align your actions in the moment is actually quite connective,” Lakshmi says. She suggests synchronous candle lighting or setting the table together: “Even if you’re apart, use screens to prepare together. Place your device on the table and watch as each table is set simultaneously. Doing an activity in visual unison can make the act more meaningful.”
4. “Would Have” Guests: If you have been to a seder, you’re likely familiar with Elijah the prophet. We traditionally set a place for Elijah and pour him a glass of wine — what a fitting year to have this symbolic seat! This year, we are going to open the door for Elijah and other guests that would have been invited. The idea was Lakshmi’s: “Ask each person to share one or two things about their ‘would have’ guest that they appreciate or miss about that person.” I’m going to try to call each guest at some point during the meal. An alternative we may try is a revolving seat for 10–20 different people throughout the meal at various intervals. Lakshmi explains that the maximum number of participants in a brainstorm or project discussion is 13 — so this revolving model should allow for maximum inclusion without sacrificing experience.

Lakshmi reminded me that some of these may work and others may not. But I’m going to try. We face a new world, and we must collectively experiment with new ways to connect. The important point: with intention and purpose, we do have the ability to connect beyond our physical limitations. Lastly, I’m going to add a fifth cup of wine. Because we all deserve it.