Tag: traditions

This week we invited three other families with young children to join us for a very simplified version of a Christian Seder. The evening was designed to engage our kids in the telling of redemption’s Story, so as to situate their own lives in the broader context of that continuing drama. If you aren’t familiar with this tradition, I’ve explained it more fully here.

Thus, eight adults and seven (very young!) children gathered around our dinner table, Thursday evening. One key aspect of a Seder is that the youngest child asks four questions which provide the framework for telling the Story. In keeping with the spirit of this tradition, we had assigned one question to each of our three year olds. So candles lit and table set, we joined other families around the world in detailing how this night is different than all other nights.

“Why do we drink wine and grape juice tonight?” Piper began. “Tonight we drink wine and grape juice,” I explained, “because at the last supper Jesus gave wine to his disciples, promising that someday he’d drink with them, again, at the marriage supper of the lamb! Until then, though, we drink remembering the new covenant—God’s promise of forgiveness—established through Jesus’ blood. And so we drink both in anticipation and in remembrance of him.”

And then came my son, “Why do we eat unleavened bread, tonight?” I’d assigned him this question knowing that we’d have just baked the bread together 2 hours prior. And so I explained what he already knew. “Normally we let our bread spend all day rising before we bake it into a nice, puffy loaf,” I smiled. “But tonight we eat unleavened—or unrisen—bread to remember how when the Israelites were freed from Egypt they had to leave quickly, not even having time for their bread to rise! Yeast has also come to represent sin, so on this night we remember Jesus, the sinless one, who said, ‘I am the bread of Life’ and ‘This is my body, broken for you.’ And so we eat, recalling both the Israelites’ freedom and Jesus’ love.”

Kai was next to ask, “Why are we eating bitter herbs, tonight?” Furrowing my brow I responded, “tonight we remember the bitterness of Pharaoh’s cruel slavery when the Israelites were in Egypt, as well as the bitterness of our bondage to sin.” Here my expression lightened and I tried to smile while explaining that we get to eat the bitter herbs with a sweet apple salad called charoset because God, who works all things together for the good of those who love him, can bring sweetness even out of the most bitter circumstances.

Finally it was Evy’s turn to wonder, “Why are we dipping our herbs twice, tonight?” Again, I tried to communicate yet another tension in our faith. “This salt water reminds us of the Israelites tears, whereas the parsley represents new life. We, too, experience sadness in this broken world, but Jesus promised that just as he was resurrected to new life, someday he will come back and make us new. In this day he will wipe away all of our tears and we will live with him forever!”

After these four questions we enjoyed a hearty meal of lamb, chicken, mashed potatoes, and roasted carrots (provided by all of the women present; when people offer to contribute I generally don’t refuse!). Toward the end of dinner I explained that about 40 years after Jesus died Jerusalem was attacked and the Jewish people were scattered into all different countries where they lived in exile for almost 1900 years. It was only 70 years ago, this spring, that they were finally able to go home. While  in these foreign countries, they ended each Passover meal by expressing the hope, “Next year in Jerusalem!” “We, too, are living as foreigners,” I reminded those around my table, “away from our eternal home with Jesus. So let us conclude with our own toast, ‘Next year in the New Jerusalem!’” And with that we toasted and ate dessert.

I felt really good about the night! The entire dinner lasted just over an hour, which was perfect for our little ones. I think the formative value in such a tradition isn’t so much the experience, in and of itself, but feeling included in a larger group and the repetition through the years. If you read my post about the crucifixion, you’ll appreciate that described some elements using language that would most likely go over young children’s heads, while allowing the evening to be meaningful for family members of all ages. I would have loved to incorporate more space for silent reflection, but with so many little ones we moved things along pretty quickly. Please feel free to use anything in this post that you find helpful! I developed my script borrowing from several websites, as well as my own sense of the story. The blog that I relied on most heavily was Ann Voskamp. Her liturgy is stunningly beautiful. I would love to borrow even more of it when our kids get a bit older, but given our context I didn’t feel I could be quite that poetic. But please check hers out!

He is Risen!