Leader: Tonight, we celebrate the Passover holiday, one of the major festivals of Judaism. The long history of the Jews is one of contrasts — freedom and slavery, joy and pain, power and helplessness. The celebration of Passover reflects these contrasts. Tonight as we celebrate our freedom, we remember the slavery of our ancestors, and reflect upon the fact that many people are not yet free.

Leader: Each generation changes — our ideas, our needs, our dreams, our celebrations. In this way, Passover too has changed over many centuries. Our nomadic ancestors gathered for a spring celebration when the sheep gave birth to their lambs. Theirs was a celebration of the continuation of life. Later, when our ancestors became farmers, they celebrated the arrival of spring in their own fashion. Eventually these ancient spring festivals merged with the story of the Exodus from Egypt and became a new celebration — a celebration of life and freedom.

Leader: As each generation gathered around the table to retell the old stories, the symbols took on new meanings. New stories of slavery and liberation, oppression and triumph were added, taking their place next to the old. Tonight, we gather in remembrance not only of our people's ancient enslavement and liberation, but also in remembrance of the countless generations who have maintained this memory — who have passed it on to their children, and they to children of their own; we celebrate those who followed Moses and those who have kept the tradition alive these thousands of years.

The Candle lighting celebration begins by honoring light

We light the candles and say…

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם
אֲשֶׁר קִדְּשָנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתָיו וְצִוָּנוּ לְהַדלִיק נֵר שֶׁל יוֹם טוֹב

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheynu Melech Ha’Olam
Asher Kidishanu B’Mitzvotav V’Tzivanu L’Hadlik Ner Shel Yom Tov.

Blessed are You, Lord, our God, Ruler of the universe,
Who sanctifies us with commandments, and commands us to light the candles on this holiday.

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בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, שֶׁהֶחֱיָנוּ וְקִיְּמָנוּ וְהִגִּיעָנוּ לַזְּמַן הַזֶה

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheynu Melech Ha’Olam
Sheche’hiyanu V’Keymanu V’Higiyanu Lazman Ha’Zeh.

Blessed are You, Lord, our God, Ruler of the universe,
Who has kept us alive, sustained us, and brought us to this season.

Traditionally Passover celebrates…

The Jewish people’s freedom from Egyptian bondage that took place approximately 3,500 years ago, as told in the first 15 chapters of the Book of Exodus. Before the Jewish people were known as Jewish or Jews – names that were derived from the Kingdom of Judah where they lived from 922 BCE until 587 BCE – they were known as either Israelites or Hebrews. “Hebrews,” “Israelites,” or the “Children of Israel” were names that collectively described the descendants of the Hebrew patriarch Jacob (also known as Israel). The Hebrews and Israelites eventually established and lived in both the Kingdom of Judah and the Kingdom of Israel.

The events of Passover written about in the Book of Exodus occurred at a time before the Jewish people were known as Jewish or Jews, and so we refer to the Jewish people as either Hebrews or Israelites in the Passover story that follows. Interestingly, the Hebrew word for Egypt is Mitzrayim, and means either “constriction” or “narrow straits.” This is in reference to the Israelites being in a state of constriction while toiling as slaves in the land of Goshen, an area of ancient Egypt. As slaves, the Israelites were building cities such as Pithom and Ra’amses which were used as supply centers for the Pharaohs of Egypt.

Karpas is the dipping of the vegetables in the salt water.

Each person takes a piece of the parsley and dips it in the salt water, and proclaims that this serves as a reminder of my enslaved ancestors in Egypt’s tears.We need to re-taste the breaking labor of Egypt to liberate ourselves from it once again. It was this labor that prepared us for freedom. It was this labor that gave us a humble spirit to accept wisdom.

The reason we use parsley is because it represents the grass of spring. Some people believe that we should use roots that come from the ground.

Annie's tradition- Instead of using parsley, my family also uses potatoes.

The blessing that goes along with this ritual is: 

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הָאֲדָמָה

 Blessed are You, Lord our G-d, King of the universe, Who creates the fruit of the land.

Baruch atah A-donay, Elo-heinu Melech Ha’Olam borei pri ha-adamah.

Discussion Question:
What other vegetables can we use for this ritual?

Leader: We come now to the first element of the Seder Plate: Karpas, the green vegetable.

Reader: The Karpas is a symbol of the Spring. It represents the reawakening of life and reminds us that beneath the snow, the earth is not dead, but dormant. It signifies the life-sustaining crops of our ancestors, and with this blessing, we make favorable their growth.

Reader: The parsley is also historically symbolic of the biblical herb, ezov. It was this plant the Hebrews used to sprinkle the blood of the sacrifical lamb on their doorposts so that they would not be sticken by the 10th plague, the slaying of the first-born.

Leader: We temper this symbol of hope and rebirth by dipping it in salt water, symbolic of the tears of our enslaved forefathers. For without sorrow, how can we know joy? Without struggle, how can we know strength of will?

Take a sprig of parsley, and dip it in salt water.

All: Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha’olam, borei p’ri ha’adamah.

(Blessed art thou, the LORD our God, King of the Universe, who createth the fruit of the earth)

Eat the parsley.

This is the bread of affliction which our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt.  Let all who are hungry come and eat; let all who are needy come and celebrate the Passover with us.  Now we are here; next year may we be in the Land of Israel. Now we are slaves; next year may we be free.

We break the matzah as we broke the chains of slavery, and as we break chains which bind us today. We will no more be fooled by movements which free only some of us, in which our so - called “freedom” rests upon the  enslavement or embitterment of others.

Traditionally, seders require three matzot. Why three?   Three are our patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.  Three  are the segments of the people Israel, Kohen, Levi and Yisrael.  The three matzot could even represent thesis, antithesis and synthesis: the two opposites in any polarized situation, and the solution which bridges them.

The opportunities and the need to create a less violent, less oppressive world are enormous. But cruelty and apathy are still with us — across the ocean, across the border, across the street. It is up to each of us, each day, in small but profound ways to move our world one step closer to its potential.

(Lift matzah)

This is the bread of affliction,

the bread which our ancestors ate in Egypt.

All who are hungry — come and eat.

All who are needy — come share our Passover

dream, a dream which only we can create.

Ha lach-ma an-yah di-a-cha-lu

av-ha-ta-na b’ar-ah d’mitz-ra-yim.

Kol dich-fin yay-tay v’yay-chul,

kol ditz-rich yay-tay v’yif-sach

Ha-sha-tah ha-cha la-sha-nah ha-ba-ah

b’ar-ah d’yis’ra-el, ha-sha-tah

av-day, la-sha-nah ha-ba-ah b’nay chor-rin.

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.

There is  something else hidden tonight in addition to the Afikoman.

We generally think of the Four Children as distinct individuals, or personalities, or types.

Each asks (or doesn't ask) a different type of question and in a different tone. (This is the Haggadah's way of explaining why the Torah seems to say we should tell our children about the Exodus from Egypt in different words, and in differing levels of detail. The Book of Proverbs tells us to "teach a child in the way s/he can understand (appropriate to each age, intellectual and interest level), and as s/he grows older that knowledge will remain."

But just flip the list upside down, and a different picture emerges.

Suddenly, we see ourselves at all the stages of our human development from childhood to adulthood and beyond, reflected in this passage.

The one who doesn't know what or how to ask is too young - perhaps a pre-schooler, or simply incapable of asking.

The simple one. Simple questions from a young child just learning about life - just learning how to read and reason - require simple, declarative if not definitive, answers, without equivocation and as factual but unfrightening as we can make them.

The rebellious one - (often erroneously referred to as wicked) - that's us as teenagers, challenging authority, seeking our own answers, trying to make sense of things we now summarily reject out of hand that once we had accepted as revealed truth.

The wise one. Then, IF we survive our teenage rebelliousness, we FINALLY emerge into adult maturity, and hopefully, attain wisdom or something akin to it, that enables us to function in, if not make sense of, the world we inhabit. 

If we are lucky, this last stage lasts a lifetime.

(For many, however, the ladder UP eventually becomes the staircase DOWN again, as we pass through the wisdom of adulthood, back to a a cantankerous stubbornness or rebelliousness, to simplicity, and finally, sadly, to the silence of no longer knowing how, or caring what, to ask.)