Creative Uses of High Tech When Quarantined for Passover

“In an age of social distancing, am I still allowed to open the door for Elijah the Prophet?”

Although this question may be amusing, the fear that 2020 will pass over Passover is no joke. On all other Passover nights, millions of my brethren welcome their families, and strangers, into their homes to make known the story of Divine liberation that links us to our ancestors. But this night is different. Enslaved by the zenith of this pandemic, the liberation on Passover from this plague will come via self-isolation.

Hence, everyone from the UJA Federation to DansDeals.com has offered their suggestions for the best online resources for a “DIY Passover.” There’s even a controversy among the rabbis (Oh great, another argument!) concerning whether halachah (Jewish law) permits the use of video conferencing to host a seder.

I felt like the wicked son as questions percolated in my mind like matzo balls floating in soup. Was the miraculous tablet my generation worshipped to access limitless wisdom not made of stone with a connection to God but rather made of silicone reinforced polycarbonate with a connection to Google (the “Other Big G”)? Was the serpent pranking me by branding my favorite high tech with the logo of the forbidden fruit? (It even has that fateful biblical bite!) Would it be possible for me to survive COVID-19 without my internet and smartphone?

Then I thought of the fact that Victor Frankl survived a concentration camp and wrote a book afterward. I shook my head and spluttered in true post-maror-consumption fashion. If I was to become the wise son, I needed a better fourth question. I decided my 2020 afikomen quest was to find out what is the best use of high tech for a “quarantined Passover.”

So I called my good friend Chaim Haas. Haas has worked as a technology public relations professional (Bloomberg, Skype, etc.) for more than 20 years. Every year, he helps steward the Bloomberg Data for Good Exchange, a conference that brings together hundreds of data scientists to brainstorm how to use data science to solve problems at the core of society. He is also a respected lay leader of his synagogue, the Riverdale Jewish Center in New York. When we spoke, I promised him that answering my question would be easier and shorter than answering the Four Questions.

“Technology gives people license to try new things,” Haas told me on the phone. He gave me a quick laundry list of websites he is using to “stay connected Jewishly.” His friend, Dani Klein, has a website, “YeahThatsKosher.com,” which is constantly providing resources for how, when and where to order kosher food. “Just last night, I got a reminder on WhatsApp from them giving me a discount code and a reminder to order meat for my seder.” Additionally, Klein has been promoting a new initiative called “Kosher19,” which will support medical workers who are fighting the coronavirus pandemic in hospitals by providing them with kosher food. Another friend, who is a physician, has used YouTube to instruct people on how to make DIY face shields that people can make at home using easy-to-purchase supplies. Haas also likes MyZmanim.com and Tefillos.com.

“Of course, any of the assorted video-calling apps are a must have,” he remarked. He related how he was having Zoom conversations with his rabbi, WhatsApp calls with friends in Israel, Skype meetings for Torah classes and more. “I think there’s a different type of connection happening now.” Usually, Haas runs into people at work in the hallways. “Now, those same serendipitous moments don’t happen so I have to work harder to make them happen.” He felt the same can be applied to any relationship — work or familial — that is under siege of social distancing. We spoke about the negative impact that social distancing guidelines can have on people with mental health struggles. “That’s a real risk,” Haas lamented. But he was quick to add, “But there’s an opportunity here for becoming more creative in how to create more authentic communication.”

I believe Haas’ message resonates perfectly with the theme of the parsha (weekly Torah reading) that will be read on the Shabbat ha-Gadol (the Great Shabbat) this year before Passover. The name of the parsha is Tzav, often translated as “commandment” or “good deed.” But the kabbalists teach that mitzvot are not simply things we do because we are subservient to a higher command nor in order to feel good. Rather, mitzvah is a derivative of tzavta (“connection”) because mitzvot bridge the impossible distance — that ultimate “social distancing” — between the finite mortal human and the Infinite, Immortal Being (Sefer Hayom Yom, Cheshvan 8). Mathematically, the only one way for an assignable quantity — mere specks in the oceans of time and space — to have a relationship with the Infinite is when She reaches out Her hand in 613 ways to offer that “connection.”

But the “high tech” of mitzvot goes much further than just creating that ultimate social connection. Mitzvot don’t simply “connect” us with the Creator, they empower us to become creators ourselves (Talmud, Bava Metzia 59b and Shabbat 119b). This is why the Torah doesn’t say the Creator’s work was “created and done” but “created to do” (Genesis 2:3), for the act of creation is a process we can partner in.

I learned this lesson from a Passover seder in Nashville, Tenn., When I was younger, I’d regularly visit my sister and brother-in-law, who are the co-directors of the Chabad House at prestigious Vanderbilt University. Every Passover, they regularly host a grand Passover seder for upward of 300 college students. One year, the fraternities and sororities scheduled a slew of boat parties over the week of Passover. My sister and brother-in-law sent them off with a “Seder-to-Go Kit” complete with everything they would need to fulfill the mitzvot of the seder.

I was angry. As the students came by their house to pick up their free “Seder-to-Go” bags, I pulled my brother-in-law aside. “How can you be so happy about this? Scheduling a boat party on Passover is disrespectful. Plus, without the Greek houses, the grand seder will have half as many people.” As any university chancellor will tell you, numbers and stats mean something!

What happened next changed my life. My brother-in-law calmly replied, “No matter how charismatic or inspiring I could hope to be at our seder, it pales in comparison to the impact leading their own seder will have on their Jewish future. When they stand up on that party boat in front of all their friends, pull out a matzo, drink four cups of grape juice, and recount the liberation of our people by our Father in Heaven, it will reach deeper into their souls than anything they will hear as bystanders of our grand seder here.” Shlomo, with the wisdom of his namesake, then put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Your sister and I did not take this mission to create great events, but to empower greatness in our students.”

This is the powerful opportunity of this upcoming Passover. While the world bemoans the social distancing, we can use Passover not just to create more social connectivity but to create more social empowerment. Think about it. There will be more individual blessings being made, more individual mitzvot being done, and more individual sparks of holiness being created this Passover than in any Passover in recent history. This year is an opportunity for us to empower greatness in all those who will be leading a seder for the first time.

This Passover can also give us time to reflect on a sobering reality. While we look at all the empty chairs around our “socially distant Seder tables,” perhaps we can hold a space for all the “fifth sons” in our communities who — with a 70% assimilation rate — have stopped attending Passover seders altogether. Is there any greater social distancing than that?

I pray that this Passover sees us using high tech to empower one another. I pray that God, with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, mercifully heals all those who are ill and suffering. And I pray that when I open the door for Elijah during my seder in quarantine, I remember the famous liturgical words, “May the Merciful One send us Elijah the prophet, may he be remembered for good, to bring good tidings, deliverance, and consolation.”

And let us all say amen!

Rabbi Levi Welton is a chaplain in the  United States Air Force and spiritual leader at Lincoln Park Jewish Center