Editorial

The fifth cup

April 17, 2008

One of the eeriest symbols of the Passover table is Elijah’s cup, a goblet of wine that sits full and untouched throughout the seder. We bless four other cups of wine; this one is barely acknowledged (except, perhaps, by the children, who check to see if Elijah has at last come for a sip). When the seder ends, it goes right back in the bottle.

Elijah, of course, is the prophet whose arrival will signal that redemption is at hand. Therefore, his untouched cup is a symbol of unfulfilled hopes, unreached potential, and unresolved anticipation.

That seems an appropriate theme for this Passover, when our cups seem so full and yet so much seems incomplete. Israel, at 60, continues to amaze us with its prosperity and creativity, its booming economy, and its rich spiritual and intellectual life. Its very existence hints at redemption. And yet it also seems mired in anxiety, facing external threats and internal exhaustion.

American Jewry too, for all of its historical success, is feeling somehow incomplete. No Jewish community has ever been more secure, more accepted, more able to express itself in ways it, and only it, sees fit. And yet with freedom comes a challenge to the notion of peoplehood — we are a fine wine that is growing less distinct as its character becomes more diluted.

Elijah’s cup is a reminder of all that is missing from the seder table, and what could be if we only seize the opportunities. It is a call for helping Jews everywhere achieve the security and peace they have long worked and prayed for and — despite the odds — continue to hope for. It’s a reminder to leave the world a better place than we found it. And it’s a cue to mind our own tables, to take hold of Jewish tradition, and to make sure its symbolism speaks to the next generation and the next.

Elijah’s cup is our future: Full and sweet, if we have the courage to recognize our own unfinished business and pledge to make it whole.

From the staff of the NJJN, a sweet and fulfilling Pesach.