During the Passover seder, everyone sings a song entitled “Dayeinu” as a way of expressing gratitude for the Lord’s generosity during our time in bondage. Translated from the Hebrew, “dayeinu” means “enough” – the idea is this: if the Lord had only shown half as much generosity, it would have sufficed.
On this, the second day of the Passover festival, Dave and I decided to make a pilgrimage. Unbelievable as it may seem, Dave had actually never set foot on Seton Hall’s glorious campus – like the land of Canaan, it was a mere far-away dream world for him. But today, that all changed. Touring around campus, we checked out the grounds, the beautiful dormitories. We drove down dead-ends, and performed K-turns, flawlessly. All-in-all, a wonderful experience! Dayeinu!!
But of course, the Pope’s visit would prove major dividends for us, as on this day, we struck true holiness – we actually ran into Okosun!! He was walking into Walsh Gym, carrying a basketball, listening to his iPod (shuffle?!?!?!?!)
Now, for those who don’t know, Okosun is pretty much our favorite player. His work ethic is unparalleled, and his patriotism, inspiring. There is no one I wanted to see more than my good (Facebook) friend, Augustine Okosun. So when we spotted him entering the gym, we had to follow.
Unfortunately, neither of us have swipe access. After ruminating for a while in the lobby, catching our breath, we decided to call it quits. As we were leaving, however, we noticed an open door on the side of building. Following the school motto (Hazard Zet Forward) we chose to “Hazard,” making our way boldly into the athletic center.
We desperately tried to find the gymnasium, but it was no avail. We kept finding ourselves getting lost in random corridors that led to nowhere, not unlike Seton Hall’s recruiting efforts with local four-star prospects. Our dream of practicing footwork with the big man, perhaps even lobbing alleyoop passes, trading smiles, laughs, was sadly not to be. Ultimately, we got trapped in a stairwell, leaving us with no choice than to leave through the emergency exit, activating the “alarm” as we fled like young rams. (2:13)
When we reached the car, we pretty much broke down and cried. I was physically exhausted, and Dave was overcome with emotion. When Dave said the word “emotion,” it sounded to me like “Okosun.” When I said, “Let’s get out of here,” Dave couldn’t hear me because the alarm was still quite loud, even though we had run very far.
On our way out of campus, we realized it had been a great day. Dave had seen Seton Hall for the first time, and we got to see Okosun, even if for only a second. And how great to see the big guy practicing in the off-season! Dayeinu!!!!
But wait!! Who are those two students walking on the sidewalk? Could it be – Brandon Wawa and Paul Gause??!?!?! Jackpot numero duo!!! Rolling down the window, Dave flashed them a quick wave, to which they did not immediately respond. After we found ourselves faced with yet another dead-end, however, forcing us to turn around yet again, we passed them a second time, and they definitely saw us for sure. Even though Paul kept dribbling his basketball, and Brandon kept looking forward, I’m pretty sure they noticed. Also, they looked startled by the sound of a distant alarm.
The story of the exodus is not one to be taken lightly. It’s a story that demands retelling, because it’s essential to the freedoms we currently enjoy. On this Passover, Dave and I didn’t just retell the story – we enacted it, sounding the bell of freedom loud and clear.