How can you blame a calf for being a calf, some protested? What kind of privileged arrogance is it to tell the calf to be like a swallow and learn to fly – because it can’t. The discussion generated by “Dona, Dona” was all of the above. I love the discussions that pop up at our Seders – they’re always plentiful, interesting, sometimes passionate, frequently provocative.
We assume the calf does not look forward to his fate, as the farmer tells it to stop complaining, for “who told you a calf to be?” The farmer, or an offstage narrator, reminds us that: Late in the order of the Seder (“Seder” actually means “order”), after we have re-experienced the exodus, savored our meal, and opened the door to welcome in Elijah, we sing “Dona, Dona.” If you don’t know the song, which was made famous by Joan Baez in the 1960s (as “Donna, Donna”) it relates the story of a farmer “bound for market” with a calf destined for the slaughter house. We all read from a Haggadah that a colleague and I compiled and have edited over many years, with additions that call attention to events of the past year that have a particular resonance with Passover as a celebration of liberation, a call to struggle, and a reminder that we are to treat the “strangers” among us with the dignity that all humans deserve since not only were we once slaves in the land of Egypt, but we remain morally compromised and metaphorically enslaved until all are free.
Here, I want to talk about the Seder we hosted for many friends and family on the first night on Passover and the interesting conversation that unfolded during the gathering.
The Family Seder, The Sister Haggadah (Barcelona, mid-14th-century)
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