The Passover/Easter Collision 2019

The year, Passover, the eight-day Festival of Freedom, began Friday, April 19, which also happened to be the Christian holiday known as Good Friday.

Well, that is a little awkward. Historically, the whole Holy Week/Easter weekend has been used as a justification for pogroms and violence against Jews and Jewish communities, and the two holidays coinciding courtesy of the lunar calendar made me wary. I don't think it coincidental that the white terrorist opened fire at Chabad of Poway Synagogue on the last day of Passover. Even before the Poway shooting, for the first time since converting decades ago, I am fearful living in my country as a Jew. All the same, I openly wear a small Star of David daily, because I'm not going to hide and, if someone wants to take me out, I might as well give them a target.

But what happened to me personally this year had nothing to do with terrorism or anti-Semitism or anything evil. It had to do with absolute goofiness, good Christian intentions, and a whole lot of laughter.

A couple of salient points:

1. Observant Jews eat no leavened foods (chametz) for the eight days of Passover. They rid their house of chametz prior to Passover and often have special sets of dishes and tableware kept just for Passover to prevent contaminating (in the spiritual sense) their meals during the holiday.

2. My husband Warren has had a long-standing professional engagement to play the Easter services at Maple Grove Methodist Church in Columbus and 2019 was no exception. I always go along; the morning consists of a rehearsal, the first Easter service, a congregational brunch in the fellowship hall, and the second service, which pretty much mirrors the first.

3. I don't keep kosher (follow the prescribed dietary laws of Judaism). I never have. I eat pork (thus my stocking up on hams when they went on sale pre-Easter at Aldi). I eat shellfish less often, because it is so expensive, but I love it.

4. This year, I thought I would try to observe the laws against eating chametz. Hence, my sticker shock when I bought matzohs just before Passover. [Yet another note: this is Delaware County. Not a huge or even noticeable Jewish population. The matzohs available in the grocery stores? Not kosher for Passover, which is a whole other issue, but I bought them anyway.]

5. We eat oatmeal for breakfast almost every single morning, except on Sundays or when we are traveling. We keep dry cereal in the house, but rarely eat it except when trying to get to a very early appointment (like my 7:00 a.m. oncology appointments in Columbus). So a very conservative estimation is that Warren and I each eat over 280 bowls of oatmeal annually.

Okay, cue Easter morning. At Service #1, several new members joined the congregation and, in some cases, the Methodist Church. Some were by transfer, some were by affirmation of faith, and one, a middle-aged woman, was by baptism. She was (wait for it) Jewish and Pastor Patricia (who was installed last summer and who I really like) mentioned that the new convert had said she'd been to mikvahs (ritual Jewish pool) and wondered "did that count?"

"Of course that mikvah counts," said the pastor. "But so does this baptism." And she proceeded to baptize the new member, then concluded the new member service.

All well and good. But then the pastor and the assistant minister went back to the baptismal stand, poured more baptism water into two bowls, prayed, and proceeded to go throughout the sanctuary, up and down the aisles, flicking water on the congregation and calling out, gently and lovingly, "Remember your baptism. Remember your baptism."

Well, hell, what's a Jew to do? I sit in the very front pew near Warren and his timpani. Those timpani make a formidable barrier to walking by and I figured Pastor Patricia would not thread her way past them, but by golly, she did. And I got watered.

I was stunned.

After the first service, as Warren and I went down to eat, he asked me if I were okay.  Sure I was. I just wasn't expecting that. Why?

"Well, you looked alarmed when she headed towards you."

Well, maybe not alarmed, but just not expecting it.

At the brunch, I picked my way through the line. Yes to the eggs/ham/potatoes casseroles and the fruit salad, no to the wonderful sweet rolls and doughnuts and cakes and breads. Okay, I'm rolling.

At the second service, looking at the bulletin, I saw that for the 11:00 service, there was no new member event, but a "reaffirming your baptism" event. And by golly, Pastor Patricia and the assistant minister prayed over the water and proceeded to walk through the sanctuary again, flicking water on one and all and calling out "Remember your baptism. Remember your baptism." This time, Pastor Patricia got me but good, even though she had already sprinkled me once earlier and even though the timpani were still in the way.

"Remember your baptism. Remember your baptism."  Flick, flick. Water drops sprinkled my bulletin. And me.

[An aside: Even though Warren was just a foot away from me, he did not get sprinkled either time. I suspect the pastor was respecting his musical instruments and did not want to get water on the timpani and there was no way to sprinkle him without getting the timpani wet.]

[A further aside: Warren was raised as a Christian Scientist. He was not baptized with a water ceremony, because that is contrary to the teachings of that faith. I was raised Lutheran and was baptized with water as an infant. When I converted to Judaism, I went to a mikvah as part of the conversion ritual. I got sprinkled on Easter, he didn't. Go figure.]

On the way home, I said to Warren, "Two baptisms in one day. During Passover yet. What next?"

What next was even more ludicrous. Sometime in the afternoon, maybe after watching the Lion King Passover by the group Six13 for about the thousandth time, I found myself thinking of chametz (doesn't everyone?). I knew there were five grains: wheat, rye, barley, spelt (look it up, I had to) and...and...

I Googled it. Wheat, rye, barley, spelt, and...oats.

Oats.

As in oatmeal. As in every morning for breakfast.

I found Warren on his computer, working on a grant. "Hey, you know how Jews don't eat certain grains during Passover?"

Warren acknowledged he didn't totally get it, but yes, he was aware and that's why I was avoiding bread this week, right?

"Well, guess what they are? Wheat, rye, barley, spelt, and...OATS!"

Warren looked at me and burst into laughter. I looked at him and burst into laughter.

So there we were.

Passover 2019.  That was one for the books.