Unlocking the Door for Elijah

Passover has many names: Pesach, the Festival of Matzah, the Festival of Freedom, and the Festival of Spring. This year, however, I noticed that Torah also calls the night of Passover, “Leil Shimmurim,” the Night of Watching.

As a symbol of our hope for the Messianic Age, tradition calls us to unlock our doors and “watch” for Elijah, who Jewish scholars say represents a zealous, unrelenting compassion for the poor, the widow, the stranger, and all who stand at the margins of society. Given the tumultuous times we are living in, perhaps this Passover, the “Night of Watching” applies to us, to our capacity to watch over one another?

It is a question I’ve been reflecting on lately since my visit to the Dominican Republic as part of American Jewish World Service’s Global Justice Fellowship a few weeks ago. Together, with other clergy, I met grassroots activists fighting for equality and human rights. We heard from young leaders taking on racist government policies, including mass deportations of Dominicans of Haitian descent, violence against the LGBTQIA+ community and women, as well as extreme and hateful nationalism. We visited with a dozen different grantee partners and were inspired by their resilience and bravery; and now I can’t help but think that any one of them, with their “zealous, unrelenting compassion,” could have been Elijah.

Get The AJT Newsletter by email and never miss our top stories Free Sign Up

We met Estefany, a Dominican of Haitian decent, whose Dominican birth certificate was invalidated by the government and is now considered stateless. This means she is unable to legally attend university, find a job, even open a bank account. Under this constant threat of deportation, even a simple trip to the grocery store could destroy her life and that of her family. Estefany is among more than 200,000 Dominicans enduring this same injustice. Yet, fueled by hope and determination, she and other activists are working daily to find solutions to reclaim their citizenship.

We met with people like Carlos, an intersex man, who is facing violence due to extreme homophobia. Yet he is bravely pushing back by crafting policy that would protect him and others and by providing safe spaces for the community to gather and just be.

We also met Annabelle, who like many teen girls was forced by poverty and sexism to get married and have children at a very young age and never got a real chance to advance her life. Through a Black doll making business, however, Annabelle and her peers are learning about their power as self-advocates and entrepreneurs. They are starting small businesses and finding their voices.

Each activist we met was driven by a determination to chart a new life trajectory. Their confidence and joy could fuel an entire world. More profoundly, they understood that a redeemed world, a world in which they are safe, is directly connected to their willingness to fight for it.

This Passover, as I reflect on the many similar challenges we face here in the United States, I am taking inspiration from these incredible human rights defenders. The tradition of unlocking our doors teaches us that we must be prepared for our redemption, and that redemption relies in large part on our attention to the most vulnerable among us. An open door for Elijah also reminds us that our desire to see a world perfected depends entirely on our willingness to rush out to perfect the world. And so, my hope is that we each find a door that we can open; that the “Night of Watching” allows us to also see our challenges and their solutions more clearly. And may we bravely run out to welcome Elijah through our acts of “zealous compassion.”