We were holding our seder in a Jerusalem that was very much part of chol, though also part of the holy—we were at the table, in my apartment, in the city of Jerusalem, it felt different than when we do the same thing in Cleveland. Yet, we still long each year, for the transcendent Jerusalem.
How do you relate to the city, a place so complicated and so engrossing, when you don’t even know your way around? How am I supposed to figure out the colloquialism of New England navigation, if I can’t figure out the basic coordinates?
I’d like to argue, though, that there is more here than just a seasonal shift — that a more cosmic confluence exists between Passover, Easter, and baseball that enriches and enlivens why so many of us love so dearly this age-old American pastime. Here, I want to turn to Jacques Barzun.