Weekly Commentary

April 10, 2026 | 23 Nisan 5786
A Gentle Correction, and a Grateful Reflection on Passover at Ocean Reef

By Michael L. Weiss, Ph.D., HCCP
President, Congregation Ocean Reef

Opening Reflection

Before I begin, let me start where all honest faith and all honest leadership ought to begin, with humility.

Last week, my Parsha commentary was sent out in error. During the first week of Pesach, we do not read the regular weekly Torah portion in the usual way, as the festival readings take precedence. In other words, the commentary I sent on Sh’mini was not actually for last week at all. It is, in fact, meant for this week.

That was my mistake, and I own it.

There is something fitting about that, perhaps even something a bit Jewish. Even when we are trying to speak about sacred order, we sometimes get the order wrong. And yet Torah, in its wisdom, still manages to teach us. Passover reminds us that freedom does not make us perfect. It makes us responsible, responsible to remember, responsible to correct ourselves, and responsible to move forward with honesty, gratitude, and faith.

So this week, rather than force the usual commentary into a place where it does not quite belong, I wanted to do something different. I wanted to reflect on the beautiful Passover Seder we shared here at Ocean Reef, what we hoped to create, why it mattered, and why the setting itself was not simply decoration, but part of the sacred telling.

For those of you who did not read my commentary on Sh’mini—which is in fact this week’s Torah reading—please follow the link below.

To read this week’s Parsha commentary on Sh’mini, please click here.

Why the Seder Matters

A Seder is never meant to be just a dinner.

If it is, then we have missed the point.

The Hebrew word Seder means “order,” but Passover is not about order for its own sake. It is about memory with purpose. We gather not merely to eat symbolic foods, recite familiar prayers, and enjoy each other’s company, although, thank G-d, we do all of that too. We gather to place ourselves inside the great story of our people. We are commanded not simply to remember that our ancestors left Egypt, but to see ourselves as though we personally came out of Egypt.

That is one of Judaism’s most remarkable gifts. It does not ask us to admire history from a safe distance. It asks us to enter it.

And that is what we sought to do at our Seder here at Ocean Reef.

This year’s Seder was intended to recreate, as beautifully and thoughtfully as we could, the emotional and spiritual landscape of the Exodus from ancient Egypt. We wanted people not merely to attend a Passover event, but to feel, however briefly, that they had stepped into the story itself—to sense the grandeur of Egypt, the burden of oppression, the drama of liberation, and the enduring truth that G-d hears the cry of the afflicted and calls a people toward freedom.

The Intent Behind the Evening

The purpose of the evening was not spectacle. It was immersion.

There is a difference.

Judaism understands that memory is strengthened through the senses. We taste bitterness. We dip. We recline. We lift the matzah. We spill wine for the plagues. We ask questions and answer them. We sing. We remember. Passover is not abstract theology. It is lived memory.

That same principle shaped the room.

The ballroom was transformed into a magnificent visual setting that evoked ancient Egypt: scenes of the Nile, symbols of Pharaoh’s world, soaring columns, and flames above them that suggested both majesty and danger. It was beautiful, yes—but more importantly, it was interpretive. It reminded us that the Exodus did not happen in some vague corner of history. It happened in the heart of a mighty civilization, wealthy, powerful, sophisticated, and certain of its own permanence.

And that matters.

Because the Passover story is not only that Israel was freed. It is that G-d’s justice is greater than any empire, any ruler, any throne, and any false claim to eternity.

The decor was there to help tell that truth.

The Nile imagery reminded us of the setting of our bondage, but also of Moses’ earliest story, drawn from the waters into the purposes of G-d. The grandeur of Pharaoh’s court reminded us that oppression often dresses itself in beauty and power. The flames called to mind both the heat of affliction and the fire of redemption—the G-d who does not abandon His people to the cruelty of history.

That is what we hoped our guests would feel: not that they had entered a beautifully decorated room, but that they had stepped inside a sacred memory.

Why This Was So Important for Our Community

At Ocean Reef, we are blessed by beauty. That is not a criticism. It is a fact. We live in a place of grace, blessing, and extraordinary generosity. But Passover asks us to remember something essential: comfort is not the same as freedom, and prosperity is not the same as gratitude.

Passover interrupts complacency.

It asks us to remember what it means to be vulnerable. What it means to be strangers. What it means to depend not on Pharaoh’s mercy, but on G-d’s deliverance. It asks us to remember that the Jewish story is not safely tucked away in antiquity. The struggle for dignity, identity, and freedom remains painfully alive in our own time.

That is why the Seder mattered.

It reminded us who we are.
It reminded us where we came from.
And it reminded us what we owe to one another.

It also brought us together.

There is something profoundly healing in sitting side by side as a community—families, friends, longtime members, newcomers, Jews, and those dear Christian friends who wish to understand our tradition more deeply—and telling the ancient story together. In a world increasingly defined by division, suspicion, and noise, the Passover table does the opposite. It gathers. It teaches. It softens hearts. It creates memory across generations and builds friendship across lines that too often divide.

For Congregation Ocean Reef, that is not incidental. It is central to who we are called to be.

The Deeper Message of the Seder

Passover teaches us that freedom is holy, but it is not cheap.

The Exodus was not merely an escape. It was the beginning of responsibility. Freedom from Pharaoh was meant to lead to covenant with G-d. Liberation was not given so that people could drift. It was given so that they could serve a higher purpose.

That message still speaks with force.

We live in an age when freedom is often spoken of as personal convenience, self-expression without limit, or the right never to be uncomfortable. The Torah offers something deeper and far more demanding. It teaches that true freedom is the ability to live in covenant, in memory, in moral responsibility, and in service to something greater than oneself.

At the Seder, every symbol says as much. The matzah tells us that redemption may come quickly. The maror warns us never to romanticize suffering. The charoset reminds us that even in hardship there remains sweetness, memory, and hope. The place set for Elijah reminds us that history is unfinished and redemption is still awaited.

So no, this was not merely a lovely evening.

It was a statement of identity.

A statement of continuity.

And a statement of faith.

Gratitude

I would be remiss if I did not pause and express my deepest gratitude to the many people who made this extraordinary evening possible.

First, to the Congregation Ocean Reef Board and the Seder Committee, thank you. They worked tirelessly to ensure that the many details of the evening came together with grace, dignity, and care. Their work went far beyond the meal itself. They attended to the table seating, the check-in process, the order of service, and the many moving parts that guests may never fully see, but from which everyone benefited. Evenings such as this do not happen by accident. They happen because people of faith and commitment quietly do the work.

I am also deeply grateful to Rabbi Anne Feibelman and our Chaplain-in-Residence, Dr. Dan Meyer, whose collaboration throughout the season in our monthly Lunch and Learns helped bring Jews and Christians together to explore our shared Scriptures and better understand what they mean within both faith traditions. That beautiful effort culminated, in many ways, in this year’s Seder, which included such meaningful Christian participation. That is something beyond beautiful. It is something deeply hopeful. It brings us closer together as children of the Book—bound not by sameness, but by reverence, friendship, and a shared desire to know G-d more deeply.

I would also be remiss if I did not thank the extraordinary catering and food team, including all the servers and bar staff who helped make the evening so special. From beginning to end, it was like watching a well-oiled machine—gracious, attentive, seamless, and warm. Their professionalism and hospitality elevated the evening in every respect.

And finally, at the core of Judaism is joy. Not shallow happiness, but holy joy. Joy in our liberation from slavery. Joy in learning who we are. Joy in becoming not merely a collection of individuals, but a people, a community, and ultimately a nation. Through the music we sang, so beautifully led by Cantorial Soloist Adina Scharfstein, and through the videos we shared throughout the evening, that joy filled the room. It reminded us that Passover is not only about what we escaped from, but what we were called to become.

We look forward to doing this again next year—with even more joy, splendor, and faith—as we continue to carry out the command from G-d that in every generation we are to teach our children the meaning of Passover, liberation, and freedom.

For those of you who could not attend, please click on the link below to view a video of the evening. We hope you will join us next year for an even more meaningful and joyful telling of the story of Passover.

Final Reflection

There is a quiet lesson in this week for me personally.

I sent the right Parsha at the wrong time. And perhaps that, too, carries meaning. Even when we stumble in sequence, grace allows us to return to purpose.

Passover is, after all, a festival of return: return to memory, return to gratitude, return to the understanding that none of us frees ourselves alone. We are carried by G-d, by tradition, by family, by community, and by the enduring commandment to tell the story from one generation to the next.

So this week, I offer both a correction and a thank you.

A correction for the calendar.
A thank you for the community.
And a prayer that the spirit of Passover remains with us long after the final cup is poured and the last song is sung.

May we never become too comfortable to remember the afflicted.
May we never become too distracted to teach our children.
May we never become too proud to admit error.
And may we always prove worthy of the freedom G-d has placed in our hands.

Chag Pesach Sameach.
With gratitude, humility, and hope,

Michael L. Weiss, Ph.D., HCCP
President, Congregation Ocean Reef