Pass the matzah balls and the gravy, y’all

Friday, March 22, 2002 | by

RACHEL POMERANCE



For Macy Hart, who grew up in the only Jewish family in Winona, Miss., the second seder was always reserved for ministers and community leaders. "People looked forward, from one year to the next, to get the invitation," says Hart, president of the Goldring/Woldenberg Institute of Southern Jewish Life in Jackson, Miss.

Now a resident of Jackson, Hart has continued the tradition of using the seder for interfaith education.

The once-thriving Jewish community in Natchez, Miss. holds a seder attended by about as many non-Jews as Jews.

Natchez native Jerry Krouse described a "reawakening" of interest among non-Jews who believe "that the Last Supper of Jesus was the seder."

In recent years, the Passover meal has become a hot ticket in Natchez.

At its peak around the turn of the 20th century, Natchez was home to several hundred Jews. Now, like so many other small towns that welcomed Jewish immigrants who came through Southern ports, Natchez's community is withering, with only 13 remaining members of its synagogue.

Jews came to the South as early as the late 17th century. Now a new immigration pattern has taken hold.

Mirroring the rest of the country, Southern Jews have fled rural areas for the city. One of the disappearing communities is Natchez, where Passover has changed its tone over the years, but "it still feels like the seder," says Krouse, who called their service "ultra-Reform."

Ruth Adele Lovitt, a non-Jew who's attended the Natchez community seder for at least 15 years, loves the festive occasion.

"I enjoy going to services that Jesus went to when he was young," Lovitt says.The Christian take on the traditional Jewish meal doesn't offend Krouse, whose concern has more to do with the dwindling Jewish presence.

Hollace Ava Weiner, president of the Southern Jewish Historical Society, views such interfaith community seders as "a time for sharing what we have in common."

The seder in Natchez carries on its own traditions like matzah balls with gravy. Krouse says participants engage in an "unspoken competition" for the best tasting version of that delicacy.

And like any good Southern seder, the charoset is made with pecans, not walnuts. "Pecans just work better," Krouse says.

In Indianola, Miss., they've begun holding the second seder at the local Chinese restaurant.The aging and diminishing community felt too tired to assemble a second production for the synagogue seder. So the Jewish women handed their traditional recipes over to the restaurant owners, and the nearly 70 participants luxuriate in being a guest at the second seder.

Meanwhile, in Vidalia, Ga., home of the famous "sweet onion," the community takes great pains to preserve a purely Orthodox seder at their synagogue.

The community began with 14 members in 1969. Now, only seven members remain to carry the heavy load of producing a kosher Passover, which draws about 30 people—many of whom come from neighboring towns.

Synagogue president Ben Smith and his wife, Sarah, drive more than two hours to the kosher butcher in Savannah, Ga., to buy meat for the community seder.

"The fact is that people go all-out to try to stay true to that holiday," Hart says.