Pesach is a time of inclusion but it is also a time of grief.

On seder night, there are two moments where we metaphorically open our doors and invite others in. One is at the opening of the Magid portion of the seder, when we say, “All who are hungry come and eat.” There is a beautiful message here: we were once slaves; poor and hungry, and we remember our redemption by sharing what we have with others.

The other, comes towards the end of the seder, when we have the custom of pouring a fifth cup of wine, which we claim is for Elijah the Prophet. This is a statement of faith, a statement that says that although we are a free people, our redemption is not yet complete, and we believe that it will come.

From the most downtrodden to the most celebrated, the message is clear: everyone is welcome and everyone is necessary. Why is it that we go out of our way to include all at our seder table? Perhaps it is because when we make room for others, we have the opportunity to make room for ourselves as well. In fact, the Mishnah (Pesahim 10:5) teaches us that: In every generation a person is obligated to see themselves as if they left Egypt

In the time between last Seder and this Seder, our beloved planet has lost more than two and a half million people to a virus which has laid bare so many of the difficulties, discriminatory structures, and pressure points in our world and its economies and varied governments. Even with movements for justice around the world continuing and taking on even more and new missions during this time, our grief cannot be ignored. 

It is difficult to embark on an ultimately celebratory holiday ritual without recognizing this. We cannot ever be asked or ask each other to leave our grief at the door. If anything has become clear over the last year it's that our grief accompanies us wherever we go -- and if we've only learned this in the last year let us reflect on how even that is a sign of privilege. 

Like anything, grief can be a powerful tool, a (terrible) lesson in empathy, perhaps even a call to action. 

And so this year it feels appropriate to set aside some time for our grief. Whether we need to name it and set it aside or use it as a guide through this evening's ritual, or something completely else -- grief is nothing if not individualized and mysterious --  let us give it the respect it deserves. 

The Mourners' Kaddish has been said for centuries by the living on behalf of the dead in which the dead and death are not mentioned even once. It is a prayer for divinity and for peace. 

While many only say the Mourner's Kaddish when they are ritually and personally in mourning, the ritual has been claimed by many to recognize the ways that grief lives in our everyday lives, so if you are moved to, please feel free. Let's take a moment to collect, quietly and individually, the things that we are mourning. Feel free to type these things into the chat. 

יִתְגַּדַּל וְיִתְקַדַּשׁ שְׁמֵהּ רַבָּא. [  קהל:   אמן]
בְּעָלְמָא דִּי בְרָא כִרְעוּתֵהּ וְיַמְלִיךְ מַלְכוּתֵהּ בְּחַיֵּיכון וּבְיומֵיכון וּבְחַיֵּי דְכָל בֵּית יִשרָאֵל בַּעֲגָלָא וּבִזְמַן קָרִיב, וְאִמְרוּ אָמֵן: [  קהל:   אמן]
קהל ואבל:   יְהֵא שְׁמֵהּ רַבָּא מְבָרַךְ לְעָלַם וּלְעָלְמֵי עָלְמַיָּא:
אבל:   יִתְבָּרַךְ וְיִשְׁתַּבַּח וְיִתְפָּאַר וְיִתְרומַם וְיִתְנַשּא וְיִתְהַדָּר וְיִתְעַלֶּה וְיִתְהַלָּל שְׁמֵהּ דְּקֻדְשָׁא. בְּרִיךְ הוּא. [  קהל:   בריך הוא:]
לְעֵלָּא מִן כָּל בִּרְכָתָא   בעשי”ת: לְעֵלָּא לְעֵלָּא מִכָּל   וְשִׁירָתָא תֻּשְׁבְּחָתָא וְנֶחֱמָתָא דַּאֲמִירָן בְּעָלְמָא. וְאִמְרוּ אָמֵן: [  קהל:   אמן]
יְהֵא שְׁלָמָא רַבָּא מִן שְׁמַיָּא וְחַיִּים עָלֵינוּ וְעַל כָּל יִשרָאֵל. וְאִמְרוּ אָמֵן: [  קהל:  אמן]
עושה שָׁלום   בעשי”ת: הַשָּׁלום   בִּמְרומָיו הוּא יַעֲשה שָׁלום עָלֵינוּ וְעַל כָּל יִשרָאֵל וְאִמְרוּ אָמֵן: [  קהל:   אמן]

Translation (by Lab/Shul): 

May our lives reflect the greatness of divine mystery everywhere, sparks within the process of creation 

May the world be ruled by our highest aspirations, soon, in our lifetimes, and so we say: Amen 

May the divine be known as a fountain of blessings: praised, honored, beautified, elevated, and exalted beyond any song or description that has ever been honored, and so we say: Amen 

May an all-embracing peace shower down from the heavens refreshing the lives of all beings on earth. 

May the source of peace inspire us to find and create peace for ourselves and for our community and for all beings on earth, and so we say: Amen

God’s order, as communicated through his beloved prophet, Moses, is placed in Exodus 13:8. Moses says, “You shall tell your son on that day, ‘It is because of what the Lord did for me when I came out of Egypt.’” 

Given the clear mandate in the Torah to tell the story of the Exodus, the structure of the book that enables us to do so should be clear enough.

We tell the story of the Exodus, therefore, through a book that essentially curates the Greatest Hits of Jewish Thought with sources long before and after the great event itself. This alone constitutes a radical interpretation of the Exodus. Constructing it this way, the authors of the Haggadah were saying that the Exodus was not an event that began and ended but one that previous Jewish experience was spent preparing for and all subsequent Jewish experience is still living.

Ruth is a fundemental part of the passover story, as in The Book Of, as in the great-grandmother of King David, and she was part of an interfaith marriage. Ruth welcomes everyone to the Seder table and honors the growing diversity of the Jewish people – those who were born Jewish, those who converted, those who are not Jewish, and those who just came for the singing and wine.

TOGETHER: May everyone who shares in a Jewish life feel welcome and integrated. We lovingly acknowledge the diversity of our community and are deeply grateful for the love and support you provide by opening your heart to Judaism, no matter how big or small a part it is in your day. 

Your presence at this Jewish experience is valued. It is not taken for granted because not everyone in this broken world will sit at a Shabbat dinner or attend a Passover Seder. We are a very small people and history has made us smaller. As we once again see a rise in hatred and hear fear in the voices of our community, we are grateful for your presence. We pray with all our hearts that all you give to the Jewish people will come back to you and fill your life with joy. Amen.

- Adapted From Rabbi Janet Marder


haggadah Section: Introduction