While we're taking out our Purim costumes, Pesach is already knocking at our doors, and there's nothing better than our most ancestral holiday for properly understanding the meaning of this characteristic object--the door--among our people.
Didn't Pesach begin with closing doors, painting the lamb's blood on the doorposts and lintels to keep the tenth plague from striking our ancestors in Egypt? The narrowness of Mitzraim shown in all its splendor: impossible even to leave the house. Immobile, enclosed, imprisoned.
And from then on? We celebrate Pesach with doors that open, as the sea did. For anyone who is hungry and alone, at the start of the Seder, and at its end, so that the Prophet Elijah, symbol of redemption, can enter. Doors that keep on opening: to the neighbor who needs us, and to an active hope that has been calling us together for centuries. Chag sameach!