So here we are. The "virtual" Seder. It's weird. It's allowed to feel weird. 

We love each other enough to gather through and past the weirdness. We love each other enough to protect one another's health by staying apart. But it's weird.

The word “Mitzrayim” means Egypt. It also means the narrow, squeezed, or confined place. This year, for the first time in our lives, we experience Passover from Mitzrayim.

The rabbis tell us we’re supposed to experience the Seder as if we ourselves are slaves in Mitzrayim; that we’re supposed to journey, this evening, from captivity to liberation. This, then, may be the truest Seder we have ever had.

Not eating chametz—bread—during Passover is supposed to teach us that we can do without life’s basics when we have to. This, too, is true for us now.

Barukh Atah Adonay Eloheynu Melekh ha-Olam asher kid'shanu b'mitzvotav v'tzivanu l'hadlik neyr shel Yom Tov.

.בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם אֲשֶׁר קִדְּשָׁנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתָיו וְצִוָּנוּ לְהַדְלִיק נֵר שֶׁל יוֹם טוֹב

Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Ruler of the Universer, who commands us to light these Holiday candles.

All Jewish celebrations, from holidays to weddings, include wine as a symbol of our joy – not to mention a practical way to increase that joy. The seder starts with wine and then gives us three more opportunities to refill our cup and drink.

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הַגָּפֶן

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, borei p’ree hagafen.

We praise God, Ruler of Everything, who creates the fruit of the vine.

We praise God, Ruler of Everything, who chose us from all peoples and languages, and sanctified us with commandments, and lovingly gave to us special times for happiness, holidays and this time of celebrating the Holiday of Matzah, the time of liberation, reading our sacred stories, and remembering the Exodus from Egypt. For you chose us and sanctified us among all peoples. And you have given us joyful holidays. We praise God, who sanctifies the people of Israel and the holidays.

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם
 שֶׁהֶחֱיָנוּ וְקִיְּמָנוּ וְהִגִּיעָנוּ לַזְּמַן הַזֶּה

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam,
she-hechiyanu v’key’manu v’higiyanu lazman hazeh.

We praise God, Ruler of Everything,
who has kept us alive, raised us up, and brought us to this happy moment.

Drink the first glass of wine!

Pikuach Nefesh (the preservation of human life) is hands-down, the most important value in Judaism. As Jews, we declare that reason, as it pertains to our well-being, presides over religious mandate. For example, we all know we're supposed to fast on Yom Kippur, but if that is a medically unwise choice for you, you don’t get points for doing it anyway. The mitzvah is to eat.

This year, as we come together as Jews the best we can during this plague, sacred handwashing takes on a new meaning.

At the Seder we have always washed symbolically for Urchatz. This year when we wash our hands, it is an act of lifesaving; it is a mitzvah.

Miriam’s Cup

On the table is a cup filled with water known as Miriam’s Cup, in honor of the prophetess Miriam. We place Miriam's Cup on our Seder table to honor the important role of Jewish women in our tradition, our history, and our lives.

But why do we fill Miriam's cup with water and not wine?

We fill Miriam’s Cup with water to symbolize Miriam’s Well, the source of water for the Jews during their journey through the desert.

God gave Miriam the well to honor her bravery and devotion to the Jewish people. Both Miriam and her well were spiritual oases in the desert, and sources of sustenance and healing. We fill Miriam's cup with water to honor her role in ensuring the survival of the Jewish people. Like Miriam, Jewish women in all generations have been essential for the continuity of our people.

We recite the following prayer in honor of Miriam:

"You abound in blessings, God, Creator of the universe, Who sustains us with living water. May we, like children of Israel leaving Egypt, be guarded and nurtured and kept alive in the wilderness, and may You give us wisdom to understand that the journey itself holds the promise of redemption.” (Rabbi Susan Schnur)

Everyone takes a vegetable, usually parsley, but use whatever you have, and dip it in salt water. 

Before we eat it, we recite a short blessing:

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הָאֲדָמָה

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, borei p’ree ha-adama.

We praise God, Ruler of Everything, who creates the fruits of the earth.

(Hold up the matzah)

This is the bread of affliction which our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt.

Normally we open the door. This year, we are socially distant.

Normally, we say, "Let all who are hungry come and eat." This year, we pray that hunger is assuaged everywhere, but do not invite the stranger in.

The mitzvah of feeding the stranger is also the mitzvah of caring for others, not just ourselves. This year, we care for others by staying distant from them. Let's have this truth be in our hearts -- that this sometimes uncomfortable isolation is a healing gift we contribute to the world. 

Now we are here virtually; next year may we be with one another, hugging and enjoying the same space.

Now we are slaves; next year may we be free.

(Break a middle matzah and wrap the larger half in a cloth; it is the afikoman.)

Maggid, the Hebrew word for “story,” is at the root of the word haggadah. In re-telling the story of the Exodus, we speak ourselves into our communal past.

A Story About Stories

When the founder of modern Hasidism, the Baal Shem Tov, saw misfortune threatening the Jews, it was his custom to go into a certain part of the forest to meditate. There he would light a special fire, say a special prayer, and the trouble would be averted.

Later, when his disciple, the Rabbi Maggid of Mezritch, had occasion for the same reason to intercede with heaven, he would go to the same place in the forest and say: "Master of the Universe, listen! I cannot light the fire, but I know the place and I can say the prayer."

Still later, Rabbi Moshe-Leib of Sasov, in order to save the Jewish people, would go into the forest and say: "I cannot light the fire, I do not know the prayer, but I know the place."

Then it fell to Rabbi Israel of Rizhyn to overcome misfortune. Sitting in his house, his head in his hands, he spoke to God: "I am unable to light the fire and I do not know the prayer; I cannot even find the place in the forest. All I can do is tell the story, and this must be sufficient." And it was sufficient.

The formal telling of the story of Passover is framed as a discussion with lots of questions and answers. The tradition that the youngest person asks the questions reflects the centrality of involving everyone in the seder. The rabbis who created the set format for the seder gave us the Four Questions to help break the ice in case no one had their own questions. Asking questions is a core tradition in Jewish life. If everyone at your seder is around the same age, perhaps the person with the least seder experience can ask them – or everyone can sing them all together.

מַה נִּשְׁתַּנָּה הַלַּֽיְלָה הַזֶּה מִכָּל הַלֵּילות

Ma nishtana halaila hazeh mikol haleilot?

Why is this night different from all other nights?

שֶׁבְּכָל הַלֵּילוֹת אָֽנוּ אוֹכלין חָמֵץ וּמַצָּה  הַלַּֽיְלָה הַזֶּה כֻּלּוֹ מצה  

Shebichol haleilot anu ochlin chameitz u-matzah. Halaila hazeh kulo matzah.

On all other nights we eat both leavened bread and matzah.
Tonight we only eat matzah.

שֶׁבְּכָל הַלֵּילוֹת אָֽנוּ אוֹכְלִין שְׁאָר יְרָקוֹת הַלַּֽיְלָה הַזֶּה מָרוֹר

Shebichol haleilot anu ochlin shi’ar yirakot haleila hazeh maror.

On all other nights we eat all kinds of vegetables,
but tonight we eat bitter herbs.

שֶׁבְּכָל הַלֵּילוֹת אֵין אָֽנוּ מַטְבִּילִין אֲפִילוּ פַּֽעַם אחָת  הַלַּֽיְלָה הַזֶּה שְׁתֵּי פְעמים

Shebichol haleilot ain anu matbilin afilu pa-am echat. Halaila hazeh shtei fi-amim.

On all other nights we aren’t expected to dip our vegetables one time.
Tonight we do it twice.

שֶׁבְּכָל הַלֵּילוֹת אָֽנוּ אוֹכְלִין בֵּין יוֹשְׁבִין וּבֵין מְסֻבִּין.  :הַלַּֽיְלָה הַזֶּה כֻּלָּֽנוּ מְסֻבין

Shebichol haleilot anu ochlin bein yoshvin uvein m’subin. Halaila hazeh kulanu m’subin.

On all other nights we eat either sitting normally or reclining.
Tonight we recline.

The wise child asks: How can I learn more about our people?  To that child you shall direct our wealth of literature so that they may seek out this knowledge for themself.

The simple child asks: What is this all about?  To that child you shall say simply , because we had faith we were redeemed from slavery.

The wicked child asks: What good is this to you?  To that child you shall say, do not exclude yourself by saying "to you" but say instead "to us", for only together can we succeed.

The innocent child does not know how to ask.  For this child you shall tell them that we were taken out of Egypt so that we could be free.

Say to all of the children, that you may know who you are, get wisdom, get understanding and it shall preserve you, love it and it shall keep you.

This year, Passover falls smack in the middle of the coronavirus pandemic in America. It's not just the timing of the holiday that feels off. It's that every aspect of its story and rituals now seems almost cruelly ironic. And yet, there will still be Passover. Passover is the stem cell of the Jewish people, a reserve of core source material with the proven ability to generate new meaning and solace in circumstances even more extreme than what we are living through now. 

We're disappointed because we can't celebrate the way we're used to. But we eat matzah because we rushed out of our homes before bread could rise. Passover glorifies a moment when life unfolded in very unexpected ways. 

One thing is conspicuously missing from the Haggadah—the story of the exodus itself.  Reading the exodus is for the already free.

Most Jews throughout history have not been free, whether from murderous regimes or famines or pandemics. What we have been is devoted to the idea that we deserve to be. "The Haggadah's purpose is not, in fact, to present a narrative," Rabbi Mendel Herson explained, "It's a how-to guide to finding our own personal liberation."

The text of the Haggadah is not a retelling of the liberation story itself but a record of agreements and disagreements among its interpreters, because it is not the God-driven part of the story that we should be focused on, but the human-driven one. God will come to help when God comes to help; the question is what we do between now and then.

This is why Jews observed Passover in the basement "cantinas" of righteous friends during the Inquisition; they kept it during the Crusades, and they kept it throughout the Holocaust—in ghettos and concentration camps and forests. 

This year, we will do what millions of Jews have done before us: manifest our hope for liberation.

That is our obligation, and our privilege. All the more so in moments when the taste of freedom—from oppression, from want, from disease—is not yet ours. 

Midrash tells us that

When the waters of the Sea of Reads came rushing back over the Egyptian soldiers who were chasing the Israelites, angels in heaven made songs of joy and praise to celebrate, God hushed and rebuked them, saying "How can you sing songs of joy when my people are drowning?"  

We are reminded that we are all God's children, all part of something much larger thean ourselves.  As a token of sorrow at the loss of Egyptian life and loss to Egypt's ecosystem experienced in the Israelites' exodus to freedom, we dip our fingers to remove a bit of wine from our cups with a recitation for each of the ten plagues.

Reader

As we rejoice at our deliverance from slavery, we acknowledge that our freedom was hard-earned. We pour out a drop of wine for each of the plagues as we recite them.

Dip a finger or a spoon into your wine glass for a drop for each plague. These are the ten plagues which G-d brought down on the Egyptians:

Cong. in English and Hebrew

Blood | dam | דָּם

Frogs | tzfardeiya | צְפַרְדֵּֽעַ

Lice | kinim | כִּנִּים

Beasts | arov | עָרוֹב

Cattle disease | dever | דֶּֽבֶר

Boils | sh’chin | שְׁחִין

Hail | barad | בָּרָד

Locusts | arbeh | אַרְבֶּה

Darkness | choshech | חֹֽשֶׁךְ

Death of the Firstborn | makat b’chorot | מַכַּת בְּכוֹרוֹת

IT WOULD HAVE BEEN ENOUGH

One of most beloved songs in the Passover Seder is "Dayeinu". Dayeinu commemorates a long list of miraculous things God did, any one of which would have been pretty amazing just by itself. For example, “Had God only taken us out of Egypt but not punished the Egyptians – it would have been enough.” Dayeinu, translated liberally, means, “Thank you, God, for overdoing it.”

Dayeinu is a reminder to never forget all the miracles in our lives. When we stand and wait impatiently for the next one to appear, we are missing the point of life. Instead, we can actively seek a new reason to be grateful, a reason to say “Dayeinu.”

אִלּוּ הוֹצִיאָֽנוּ מִמִּצְרַֽיִם, דַּיֵּנוּ

Ilu ho-tsi, Ho-tsi-a-nu, Ho-tsi-a-nu mi-Mitz-ra-yim, Ho-tsi-a-nu mi-Mitz-ra-yim, Da-ye-nu!
If he had brought us all out of Egypt, it would have been enough!

CHORUS: .. Dai, da-ye-nu, .. Dai, da-ye-nu, .. Dai, da-ye-nu, .. Da-ye-nu, da-ye-nu, da-ye-nu!

אִלּוּ נָתַן לָֽנוּ אֶת־הַתּוֹרָה, דַּיֵּנוּ

Ilu na-tan, na-tan la-nu, Na-tan la-nu et-ha-Sha-bat, Na-tan la-nu et-ha-Sha-bat, Da-ye-nu!
If he had given us Shabbat it would have been enough!

CHORUS: .. Dai, da-ye-nu, .. Dai, da-ye-nu, .. Dai, da-ye-nu, .. Da-ye-nu, da-ye-nu, da-ye-nu!

Ilu na-tan, na-tan la-nu, Na-tan la-nu et-ha-To-rah, Na-tan la-nu et-ha-To-rah, Da-ye-nu!
If he had given us the Torah it would have been enough!

CHORUS: .. Dai, da-ye-nu, .. Dai, da-ye-nu, .. Dai, da-ye-nu, .. Da-ye-nu, da-ye-nu, da-ye-nu!
.. .. Dai, da-ye-nu, .. Dai, da-ye-nu, .. Dai, da-ye-nu, .. Da-ye-nu, da-ye-nu!

We have now told the story of Passover…but wait! We’re not quite done. There are still some symbols on our seder plate we haven’t talked about yet. Rabban Gamliel would say that whoever didn’t explain the shank bone, matzah, and marror (or bitter herbs) hasn’t done Passover justice.

The shank bone represents the Pesach, the special lamb sacrifice made in the days of the Temple for the Passover holiday. It is called the pesach, from the Hebrew word meaning “to pass over,” because God passed over the houses of our ancestors in Egypt when visiting plagues upon our oppressors.

The matzah reminds us that when our ancestors were finally free to leave Egypt, there was no time to pack or prepare. Our ancestors grabbed whatever dough was made and set out on their journey, letting their dough bake into matzah as they fled.

The bitter herbs provide a visceral reminder of the bitterness of slavery, the life of hard labor our ancestors experienced in Egypt.

Hand-washing     רַחְצָה   (second time, with blessing)

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ מֶֽלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם אֲשֶׁר קִדְּשָׁנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתָיו וְצִוָנוּ עַל נְטִילַת יָדָיִם

barukh atah Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha-olam asher kiddeshanu b’mits-vo-tav v’tsivanu al n’ti-lat ya-da-yim

Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Ruler of the Universe, who makes us holy with commandments and commands us to wash our hands.

The blessing over the meal and matzah |   motzi matzah  | מוֹצִיא מַצָּה

The familiar hamotzi blessing marks the formal start of the meal. Because we are using matzah instead of bread, we add a blessing celebrating this mitzvah.

בְָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ מֶֽלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, הַמּוֹצִיא לֶֽחֶם מִן הָאָֽרֶץ:

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, hamotzi lechem min ha-aretz.

We praise Everyone and Everything, who brings bread from the land.

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ מֶֽלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, אֲשֶׁר קִדְּשָֽׁנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתַָיו וְצִוָּֽנוּ עַל אֲכִילַת מַצָּה:

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu al achilat matzah.

We praise Everyone and Everything, bringing us here us to eat matzah.

Distribute and eat the top and middle matzah for everyone to eat

As we have turned this bitter story into a sweet celebration, we mix our sweet charoset with the with the bitter maror.  In both cases sweetness does not eradicate the bitter but the combo adds something.  

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ מֶֽלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, אֲשֶׁר קִדְּשָֽׁנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתָיו וְצִוָּֽנוּ עַל אֲכִילַת מרוֹר

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu al achilat maror.

We praise God, Ruler of Everything, who made us holy through obligations, commanding us to eat bitter herbs.

Eating a sandwich of matzah and bitter herb | koreich | כּוֹרֵךְ

When the Temple stood in Jerusalem, the biggest ritual of them all was eating the lamb offered as the pesach or Passover sacrifice. The great sage Hillel would put the meat in a sandwich made of matzah, along with some of the bitter herbs. While we do not make sacrifices any more – and, in fact, some Jews have a custom of purposely avoiding lamb during the seder so that it is not mistaken as a sacrifice – we honor this custom by eating a sandwich of the remaining matzah and bitter herbs. Some people will also include charoset in the sandwich to remind us that God’s kindness helped relieve the bitterness of slavery.

ביצה

The Egg

Our meal begins with the eating of a hard-boiled egg dipped in the salt water. The salt water symbolizes the tears of the Jewish people during their enslavement. The hard-boiled egg symbolizes Spring and the renewal of life. The egg also reminds us of the Jewish midwives who refused to carry out the Pharaoh's order to kill the male babies and thus ensured the survival of the Jewish people.

Virtual Find the Afikoman

20 questions: "Place" -- Where in the World is the Afikoman?

Refill everyone’s wine glass.

We now say grace after the meal, thanking God for the food we’ve eaten. On Passover, this becomes something like an extended toast to God, culminating with drinking our third glass of wine for the evening:

We praise God, Ruler of Everything, whose goodness sustains the world. You are the origin of love and compassion, the source of bread for all. Thanks to You, we need never lack for food; You provide food enough for everyone. We praise God, source of food for everyone.

As it says in the Torah: When you have eaten and are satisfied, give praise to your God who has given you this good earth. We praise God for the earth and for its sustenance.

Renew our spiritual center in our time. We praise God, who centers us.

May the source of peace grant peace to us, to the Jewish people, and to the entire world. Amen.

The Third Glass of Wine

The blessing over the meal is immediately followed by another blessing over the wine:

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הַגָּפֶן

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, borei p’ree hagafen.

We praise God, Ruler of Everything, who creates the fruit of the vine.

Drink the third glass of wine!

The Cup of Elijah

We now refill our wine glasses one last time and open the front door to invite the prophet Elijah to join our seder.

In the Bible, Elijah was a fierce defender of God to a disbelieving people. At the end of his life, rather than dying, he was whisked away to heaven. Tradition holds that he will return in advance of messianic days to herald a new era of peace, so we set a place for Elijah at many joyous, hopeful Jewish occasions, such as a baby’s bris and the Passover seder.

אֵלִיָּֽהוּ הַנָּבִיא, אֵלִיָּֽהוּ הַתִּשְׁבִּיאֵלִיָּֽהוּ, אֵלִיָּֽהוּ,אֵלִיָּֽהוּ הַגִּלְעָדִי

בִּמְהֵרָה בְיָמֵֽנוּ יָבוֹא אֵלֵֽינוּ

עִם מָשִֽׁיחַ בֶּן דָּוִד

עִם מָשִֽׁיחַ בֶּן דָּוִד

Eliyahu hanavi
Eliyahu hatishbi
Eliyahu, Eliyahu, Eliyahu hagiladi
Bimheirah b’yameinu, yavo eileinu
Im mashiach ben-David,
Im mashiach ben-David

Elijah the prophet, the returning, the man of Gilad:
return to us speedily,
in our days with the messiah,
son of David.

Next year in good health

Next year in social closeness

Next year in the same room

Next year without masks

Next year without gloves

Next year in freedom.