Passover is over but, before we proceed with the rest of the year, a moment of reflection is in order. Speaking of order, the word “Seder” literally means “order” but a Seder sometimes can devolve into disorder, especially when it comes to figuring out whose turn it is to read. Did this happen at your Seders this year? For many Jews, last week’s Passover Seders were like Hollywood table-readings. That is because many Jews subscribe to the tradition of reading the Haggadah by committee, a menschy merry-go-round that works its way around the Seder table, usually paragraph by paragraph, until a song needs to be sung. Around and around it goes, with each participant offering a momentary monologue while others sit in quiet judgment of their reading skills. The rotisserie reading primarily occurs before the meal because the second half of the Seder features lots of a cappella group singing that could fairly be described as Passover Pitch Perfect.

Of course, as you may have experienced, not every guest is a willing participant in the roundabout reading of the Haggadah. Some at the Seder table, may have refused, refuse to read aloud and they might even feign illness or plead the Fifth. Others who refused to read aloud may have suffered from stage fright or a fear of public speaking. A few may have turned down participation because they considered themselves unworthy, they took a vow of silence, they completely lost their nerve or they wanted to maintain the lowest of profiles because they are in a witness protection program.

A person who refused to read aloud at a Seder certainly should not be judged or criticized. Every person has the right to keep their mouth shut just like every person technically has the right to stare, sniff or eavesdrop. (Every person also has the right to sleepwalk but you really should not do so when you are on (i) someone else’s property, (ii) an airport runway or (iii) stilts.)

Reading aloud at the Seder is not required so I certainly hope that nobody experienced anything like the following hypothetical scenario:

Jew #1: O.K., whose turn is it to read?

Jew #2: Actually, it’s my turn but if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll pass.

Jew #1: Don’t be silly. Everyone gets a chance to read aloud on Passover. It’s a family tradition.

Jew #2: The last thing in the world that I want to do is offend you…

Jew #1: Well then, if that is true, go ahead and read!

Jew #2: It is true but I still must humbly, respectfully and regretfully decline.

Jew #1: I don’t think you’re understanding me so let me make myself perfectly clear. On Passover, in this house, everybody reads! And I do mean everybody, no exceptions! Even the dog reads! Do you understand?

Jew #2: Yes I do, which is why declining your request is so incredibly painful.

Jew #1: Why on earth can’t you read aloud like everyone else? Do you require braille?

Jew #2: No.

Jew #1: Are you illiterate?

Jew #2: No.

Jew #1: Are you a professional nudnik?

Jew #2: No, not a professional one.

Jew #1: Well then why can’t you read aloud like everyone else?

Jew #2: If you must know, I choose not to read aloud because I tend to read the Haggadah so beautifully and flawlessly that I’m worried about making everyone else here feel insanely inferior and unbearably ashamed.

Jew #1: O.K., I’ve heard enough. Who invited this guy to our Seder?

Jew #2: Actually, your daughter did. I’m her new fiancé. Surprise… Dad!!!

Jew #1: I think I’m going to need all four cups of wine… all at once… right now!!!

On Passover, it also was important for children to participate in the Seders but not without appropriate supervision. On that note, hopefully nobody experienced anything like the following hypothetical situation:

Mother: Oh my goodness! Why is there a foot of sand on the dining room floor and why are their camels in the living room?

Child: Mommy, don’t be silly. It’s Passover!

Mother: Yes, Tatele, I know that it’s Passover but how does that explain the sand and camels in our house?

Child: Because in every generation, we are supposed to view the Exodus from Egypt as though it was happening to us today.

Mother: That is true, but I think you have taken that notion a bit too literally.

Child: Well, there is some good news. I decided against building a replica of the Pyramids in the family room.

Mother: That actually is good news.

Child: Yeah, I decided against it because the ceiling in the family room is way too low, which is why I recreated the Pyramids in the foyer.

Mother: Oy vey!

Bottom-line: Here’s a Passover joke to use for next year: What do you call someone who goes from house to house selling Haggadahs? A Dor-va-Dor salesman.

By Jon Kranz