Fire from heaven, then silence. Parashat Shemini asks what happens when joy and grief arrive on the same day — and the table has to hold both.

Four cups of wine mark four promises of liberation. The fifth cup — Elijah's — sits untouched, poured for a promise not yet fulfilled. Some of us are still mid-journey.

The first seder was eaten in danger — sandals on, staff in hand, ready to flee. This year, that detail requires less imagination than usual.

A perpetual fire, the Torah says, shall not go out. But perpetual doesn't mean self-sustaining. Someone has to show up and lay the wood.