Welcome to Soulful Jewish Living: Mindful Practices for Every Day with me, Josh Feigelson.
I’m grateful you’re here, and I hope you benefit from our time together.
When I was growing up, every year on erev Pesach—that is, the day the Seder would happen—the doorbell would ring and a delivery person would hand my Mom a beautiful flower arrangement. The flowers were from my Uncle Melvin who lived in Minneapolis. Years later, when my wife and I were making Pesach for our own family, the doorbell would ring and our own flowers would appear—our own gift from Uncle Mel.
Uncle Mel passed away a couple years ago, and it makes me happy to think about him and share this memory with you. Because Mel was a true ba’al chesed, a genuinely loving person who let his love for other people flow. And though the flowers from him have stopped, I notice that whenever his daughter, my cousin Natalie, comes over for Shabbat dinner (she lives near me in Chicago), she brings wine and dessert—and a flowering potted plant. In fact, right now I’m looking at some daffodils she brought a couple weeks ago. As my own father liked to say, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Nat has that same hesed in her as Mel did.
Passover is many things. For all of us, it’s a holiday of freedom. For many, it’s a repository of memories. According to the Jewish mystical tradition, it’s also the moment of the year when hesed, the unbounded, loving generosity of the universe, is most present and accessible.
The Sefat Emet, one of the Hasidic masters of the 19th century, teaches that while spiritual growth usually requires “awakening from below”—our own hard work and merit—the night of the Seder is different. He explains that Seder night is a time of unbounded Hesed, an “awakening from Above” that flows freely regardless of whether we’re “ready” or “fit” to receive it. In his view, the “haste” of the Exodus wasn’t just about leaving Egypt quickly; it was about the speed of Divine kindness rushing in to meet us exactly where we are.
The Sefat Emet goes on to teach that the symbols of the Seder are just historical markers; they are physical conduits for this Divine generosity. He points specifically to the Matzah, which he calls the “Bread of Faith.” Because Matzah is baked in “haste”—denying the ego-driven time required for dough to rise—it becomes a direct link to that Divine Hesed that’s always flowing. By eating it, we aren’t just performing a ritual; we are physically ingesting a kindness—mainlining Hesed, as it were. Even the Four Cups of Wine serve a purpose here, acting as tools to expand our consciousness, widening our internal gates so we can actually contain the flow of love that defines the night.
Now, I’ll be honest and share that saying all of this, this year in particular, feels challenging. Jews worldwide are being attacked. Israeli Jews are having seders in bomb shelters. Personally, I’ve been feeling a lot of constriction lately, as though my body is carrying around the heaviness of the moment we’re in. And that comes on top of years of other heavy moments. These don’t exactly feel like ideal conditions to experience unbounded Divine love.
But then I remind myself that the very first Seder, the one we recall and re-enact at our own tables, wasn’t held in the best situation either. Our ancestors were still slaves to Pharaoh. Huddled in their houses, they were relying on an unseen God to see the blood they had painted on their doorposts and protect them as the Angel of Death went through Egypt.
And maybe that’s the point: that even under those conditions—and frankly, even under worse than that—in every generation at Passover, Jews have managed not only to survive, but to actually experience hesed she’ba’hesed, God’s unbounded, embracing love.
Here’s a meditation practice to try.
First, take a meditation posture: upright, dignified. Imagine your spine as Jacob’s ladder, reaching up toward heaven while rooted in the ground.
Turn your gaze inward or close your eyes. Take a deep breath. Notice anywhere in your body you may be carrying the tension of the current moment—perhaps constriction in your chest or weight in your shoulders. Don’t try to push it away; simply name it as your own personal Mitzrayim—your narrow place, your Egypt in this moment.
See if you can take a quick inhale, and then let out a long, slow exhale. The Sefat Emet teaches that the Exodus happened in “haste” because Divine kindness doesn’t wait for us to be perfect. As you breathe, imagine that you don’t have to “earn” this meditation. You don’t have to be “ready.” The Love is already rushing toward you.
Now, I invite you to visualize a gate within your heart. In times of struggle, we might have a natural tendency to pull the bolt and lock the gate to stay safe. But tonight, the “Attribute of Hesed” is knocking. Imagine the gate beginning to glow with a soft, amber light. You might think of this as the gate “awakening from above.” It’s calling to you, inviting you in.
Bring to mind the matzah you’ll eat at the Seder. It is “Bread of Faith,” the “Bread of Healing.” Imagine a spark of that unbounded love entering your system. It isn’t a fire that burns; it is a cooling, embracing flow. Let it move from your heart into those heavy spaces in your body, softening the constriction.
As we conclude, imagine your internal space widening. Like the Four Cups of Wine, let your perspective expand beyond the immediate “narrowness” of the world. Hold the paradox: the world is heavy, yet you are currently held in a love that is larger than the heaviness.
Passover invites us to remember that this love is all around us—not just now, but all the time. When I look at the daffodils my cousin Natalie brought, or when I remember the doorbell ringing with Uncle Mel’s flowers, I realize that these weren’t just nice gestures. They were physical conduits of that same ‘awakening from above’ that the Sefat Emet describes. Uncle Mel didn’t wait for us to do something to deserve those flowers; the kindness just flowed, in its own kind of holy haste.
On Pesach we can remember that even when the world feels constricted and heavy, the gates of hesed can still be nudged open by a simple, flowering plant. That the unbounded love of the universe often arrives exactly like a surprise delivery: unearned, perfectly timed, and ready to soften our narrow places.
Chag kasher v’sameach – Blessings for a happy and liberating Passover. Know that celebrating with you.
Thank you for joining us for Soulful Jewish Living: Mindful Practices for Every Day, a production of Unpacked, a brand of OpenDor Media, and the Institute for Jewish Spirituality. This episode is sponsored by Jonathan and Kori Kalafer and the Somerset Patriots: The Bridgewater, NJ-based AA Affiliate of the New York Yankees. If you like this show, subscribe, share this episode with a friend, give us five stars on Apple Podcasts. Check out our website, unpacked.media for everything Unpacked-related, and subscribe to our other podcasts, and check out the Institute for Jewish Spirituality. Most importantly, be in touch–about what you heard today, what you’d like to hear more about, or to dedicate an episode. Write to me at josh@unpacked.media.
This episode was hosted by me, Rabbi Josh Feigelson. Audio was edited by Rob Pera and we’re produced by Rivky Stern. Thanks for joining us.
