Oppression can be a physical thing -- a shackle on an ankle, bars on a cell, the long sleeves a woman is forced to wear for fear of catcalls. But it can also be a feeling, an encumbrance that clouds our days and degrades our psyches, digging into our souls and denying us the truest and fullest expression of the freedom we are owed by virtue of our humanity.

Many words in Hebrew share common roots, which suggest common meanings, and which in turn illuminate the significance of their example. In the story of Passover, God delivers the Israelites from Egypt, which in Hebrew is מצרים - "Mitzrayim". The Jewish mystic text called the Zohar notes another word with the exact same root: מצרים, "m'tzarim", or "narrow straits". And while the deliverance from Egypt freed the Israelites from their physical bondage, it took decades for the painful memory of enslavement to give way to the true potential of freedom. The oppressions of prejudice, of indifference, and of self-doubt we suffer today may not be as literal as those we suffered millennia ago, but they constrain and limit us nonetheless.

We are fortunate today to live in a society which, we hope, mostly succeeds at protecting our liberties; which safeguards the expression of our innermost selves, in identity, word and, deed; which acknowledges and respects us as individuals and communities. But Passover calls us also to turn a critical eye to the comfort of that fortune and examine its insufficiencies. We must question why we have tolerated circumstances that have afforded us such freedoms while denying them to others.

When people are denied legal recognition of their love, they are oppressed. When people are rejected from our country because of where they were born, they are oppressed. When someone is arrested, harmed, or killed by police because of the color of their skin, they are oppressed. When a child suppresses who they are because of the judgements of their peers or lack of support from adults, they are oppressed. When a person seeking community is turned away because they are unlike the majority, they are oppressed. And when we ignore, deny, or contribute to these actions, we are the oppressors. Until all oppression ends, we must remember that we too are oppressed, because there is no true freedom until we are all free.

Tonight, we celebrate the freedoms we enjoy, and remember that others are not as fortunate; and we pledge that in the next year, we will seek freedom for everyone, without reservation.


haggadah Section: Nirtzah
Source: David Litvak, Biscuit Factory Haggadah 2017