D’var Torah: Passover prayer recalls ancestors’ need for dew | Wisconsin Jewish Chronicle

D’var Torah: Passover prayer recalls ancestors’ need for dew

   My mother-in-law Connie, of blessed memory, enjoyed the Weather Channel. She was often captivated by reports of thunderstorms, heavy snowfall and tornados.

   And while she always hoped for pleasant weather, she couldn’t help getting excited in an anxious way, watching dramatic footage of severe weather conditions.

   But of all the meteorological phenomena that piqued her interest, the dew point, a staple of daily weather reports, was not one of them. And I am certain there are many people out there who sympathize with her lack of zeal for water vapor condensation.

   We tune into the weather to find out if it’s going to be sunny or rainy so we know whether or not we can go to the beach. We want to find out if school will be canceled because of snow.

   But who cares about dew? Not only is it unexciting to watch (it’s up there with watching paint dry), but it can be downright annoying, as when it turns into frost on your car windshield.

   While today we may be indifferent to dew, our ancestors had a keen understanding of its significance. The Bible contains many references to dew as a life-sustaining force.

   Zechariah prophesied that “The vine will produce its fruit, the ground shall produce its yield, and the heavens shall provide their dew” (Zechariah 8:12). Isaac’s blessing of Jacob included the words: “May God give you of the dew of the heaven and the fat of the earth, abundance of new grain and wine” (Genesis 27:28).

   Dew can even be associated with resurrecting powers as when Isaiah proclaims, “Let Your dead revive; their bodies arise. Awaken and shout for joy, you who dwell in the dust, for Your dew is like the dew of the morning, and the earth shall bring to life the shades” (Isaiah 26:19).

 

Indispensable service

   So what’s the big deal with dew? How did it get associated with such lofty concepts as fertility, wealth and even resurrection?

   In arid regions like Israel, in the dry months, the land becomes dependent upon dew to provide water in the absence of rain. Therefore, the seemingly mundane dew provides an indispensable service.

   The ancient fascination with dew has been maintained today in the annual recitation of the piyyut — liturgical poem — known as “Tal,” the Hebrew word for dew, on the first day of Passover.

   Composed by Rabbi Eleazar Ha-Kallir in the eighth-century in the land of Israel, “Tal” contains multiple stanzas, each with four lines. The first part of each stanza speaks of our reliance on dew to sustain agricultural prosperity before shifting to a plea for the rebuilding of Jerusalem and an end of the exile.

   The latter theme is connected to Passover, linking the Israelites’ redemption from Egyptian bondage with a future redemption of the Jewish people.

   The first theme underscores the fact that Passover marks the end of the rainy season in Israel, when dew accumulation is most pressingly needed.

   At one time, the recitation of “Tal” was an annual highlight, with synagogue sanctuaries filled with congregants eager to hear the haunting, centuries-old melody, as the cantor chanted its plea for physical and spiritual prosperity.

   But just as dew fails to make headlines, so has “Tal” faded into near obscurity in many synagogues. Why so?

   Does dew no longer capture our attention amidst reports of hurricanes, floods and blizzards? Are we too tired the day after the first seder to savor the extended recitation of liturgical poetry? The answer may be a combination of the two as well as other considerations.

   But if we ignore or rush through this prayer, we deny ourselves a chance to look through the eyes of our ancient forebears who felt awe and wonder at the moisture that broadly covers the ground yet so quickly disappears.

   We also miss the opportunity to share our ancestors’ understanding of our dependence on the natural, healthy course of the seasons, and the enduring existential human desires for health and vitality.

   “Tal” reminds us of the prominent role that dew plays in supporting a healthy ecosystem, and our responsibility to maintain it.

   And while many of us would not consider ourselves to be living in “exile,” given the financial comfort and spiritual freedom we enjoy in this country, “Tal” nevertheless reminds us of our deep love for Israel, and our responsibility to pray for it and act on its behalf.

   It is easy to take dew for granted or forget about it completely. “Tal” reminds us that we must not.

   Hazzan Jeremey Stein is cantor of Congregation Beth Israel Ner Tamid.