Believing in God is a relatively recent experience in my life. My father, born a Jew in Brooklyn, New York, never mentioned God, religion, or Judaism except for one all-encompassing criticism of the Jewish Passover service. He said how, at a very young age, he walked out of his parents’ Passover seder celebration screaming that he “wouldn’t celebrate the wholesale slaughter of Egyptian children.” “Boy, that is terrible!” I thought, and that subject, or anything about Judaism, for that matter, was never discussed again. Imagine my surprise when, some forty years later, while attending a Passover seder in a synagogue, we got to the part where the Ten Plagues are recited, culminating in the death of the firstborn of Egypt, and we dipped a finger into red wine and dropped onto a plate those symbolic tears of compassion, sympathy, and anguish from the Jewish people in response to the suffering of the Egyptians. [download]
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