Every year we gather at Passover and welcome you to join us. Some of us prepare our tables for you with beautiful Passover dishes, silver, and linens. Our grandparents, our bubbes and zaydes, used them and then gave them to us to use at our Seder tables. On the table is a cup with your name on it. It’s filled with wine just for you, and near the end of the Seder, we open the door to greet you, like we do every year. But you don’t come.

When my children were young, they waited with anticipation for you to come through the door. They were disappointed every year. Now they have children of their own and it’s possible that they’ll have to find ways to ease that same disappointment, too.

But this year, Jews everywhere and in Israel, especially, face the rising tide of hatred that threatens their safety and well-being. No one is untouched by the storm of hate and bigotry directed at Jews in North America, London, Australia, Europe, and the streets of Israel. Do you hear their screams? Do you feel their laments? Isn’t it time? Isn’t it time for you to come?

Why, Elijah, do you delay? Is it because the coming of the Messiah is still too distant from our day? Have we not suffered enough or demonstrated our worth enough? We’ll tell you that we’ve suffered enough in history and we’ve suffered as witnesses to that history. Now we’re making history of our own during turbulent and dangerous times. But we’ll tell you that we haven’t only suffered. We’ve also persevered by learning and teaching our children, praying faithfully, making a positive difference in the world, and defending ourselves where we live and in Israel. Is that enough?

Maybe it still isn’t enough, but it won’t deter us. Reform Judaism long ago accepted the possibility that the Messiah, which you will one day proclaim, might not be a person, after all. Reform Judaism accepts that doing mitzvot with our own hands — to love our neighbor, to welcome the stranger, to make the Sabbath and the holidays, and not to remain indifferent — might usher in, not a person, but a Messianic age, a new generation, when there will be shalom, a complete peace. We love doing mitzvot and feeling useful. If the Messiah does come, we’d give up many mitzvot that no longer need to be done. But, if not, we’ll remain hopeful while we also do mitzvot that we love to do. One way or another, we believe that a Messianic time will come, and it will be better than today.

Ani ma’amin be’emunah shlemah bevi’at hamashiach, ve’af al pi sheyitmahmeya, im kol zeh achakeh lo bechol yom sheyavo.

I believe with perfect faith in the coming of the Messiah, and, though the Messiah delays, I will wait [and work] for the day when the Messiah will come. (cf Maimonides on Sanhedrin)  

The table is set. The wine is poured. The door will be open. Please come. Please bring your promise of hope this year. Next Year in Jerusalem, may we all know peace.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)