Today I was welcomed into the home of Donna and Mel, Jay’s parents, to celebrate Passover with their family. And whilst the family approached the event with a humorous cynicism reserved for those about to hear the same mildly funny jokes of the umpteenth time, I was actually looking forward to it.

Passover is a special time in the Jewish calendar as it is about remembering the struggles of the Jews as slaves of the Egyptians, and the tough time in the desert that followed. They eat bitter herbs to signify these bitter struggles (horseradish, in our case), unleavened bread to signify the poor food available in this tough time, and a variety of things dipped in salt water to signify the tears wept. I’m skirting over the details slightly, as you can look into the celebration for yourself if you’re interested, and I would absolutely encourage you to do so.

One of my missions is to pray with people from a number of different backgrounds, and this is the first. Listening to the prayers, both spoken and sung, in Hebrew was wonderful. It’s a beautiful language, with depth and tone that most modern languages lack. But what I really enjoyed about the celebration was the feeling of togetherness, oneness that you get when a group of people sing, chant or speak in unison.

More than once I felt a tingle run down my spine. Whether that was God, another spirit, or simply a connection with the people, the wonderful souls that I was honoured to share a table with, I cannot say. But for me, it was a special evening.

The message of Passover was not just about the struggle of the Jews, but a time to reflect on all the people that have faced struggles and oppression, and those that still face struggle and oppression. It reminded me of those fleeing Syria and other unstable countries today. It is unfathomable, to me, just how awful life must be for people to leave their home, their country, possibly their family. To leave behind everything they’ve ever known, with no idea whether what they’re walking into will be any better. Only a hope that it will be better.

And hot on the heels of that reflection is the realisation that you have it pretty darn good in this world.

There was one particular message in the Passover story that stood out to me. It was that to be free, to achieve freedom, requires two things: hard work and idealism. It is not the American dream; it is not freedom being a right, or inherently deserved. It is about earning freedom, dreaming freedom, fighting for freedom.

Every person around the table this evening played a role in this beautiful ceremony. From eating the foods, to reading passages about the plagues, this was a family affair. Without even realising it, they embraced me as one of their family, and that is a gift I will treasure.