Pesach is about gratitude. When nobody cared, someone looked out for you. That’s why we remember it every year, even though they haven’t done anything cool in a really long time and have probably forgotten about you. Thanks Maxwell House!
Pesach is about going back home to spend time with your family because then you don’t have to be at a single’s seder and experience feelings of wanting to kill everyone there. You can just go home where you feel the familiar warmth of shame and years-long suppressed rage.
That’s why Pesach is really about our relationship with God. We don’t have to compare ourselves with our siblings who are married with kids and still have feelings of pride because they didn’t desperately hook up with gross girls. Why, you may ask? Because God has a relationship with all of us. When he saved us from Mitzrayim, did he first ask us to have a conversation with him and act interested in his crap for some unknown reason? “Oh, Did you see the new Kardashians? Oh right, you were in fucking mitzrayim.” No, of course not. He made goddamn miracles for us first and then asked us to get him a sheep. Which wtf of course we were very happy to do. He fucking gets it. At least a long time ago apparently he did. (This story should be studied in every above 23 years old women’s dating class. Maybe we’d be seeing some of those nashim tzidkaniyos I’ve heard so much about. How come single men can’t hold a conversation? Oh yeah, because they’re in a fucking desert. Ta da. I solved your shidduch crisis. I want 25% of all of your future children’s best drawings.)
Back to my inspirational dvar Torah here. Pesach isn’t about holding your head up and being proud. Avraham challenged God’s promise at the Bris bein habesarim saying, “Bameh Eidah”, “With what will I know?” And God answered “Yadoah tedah…” You’ll know when I send your grandchildren to Miztrayim for 400 years.
So when you’re enjoying yourself with your beautiful family, eating fried chicken you just bought from the Lancaster Mikvah at Hershey, maybe stop and think to yourself, “Am I stopping Mashiach coming by enjoying myself here?” Of course you are.
Hit your boy up on ig at stop being a fucking idiot.