Tonight, we gather together to celebrate Passover. Passover is a holiday commemorating the Israelites’ liberation from slavery and their exodus from Egypt, as told in the beginning of the Book of Exodus in the Hebrew Bible. Following the command that the story should always be taught to the next generation, Jews across time and space have celebrated this joyful holiday. As you might imagine, there are many aspects of the Passover celebration that have withstood the millennia of observance, and many traditions have been added, taken away and changed over time.

Tonight, we will eat a great meal together, enjoy four glasses (at least!) of wine, and tell the story of our ancestors’ liberation from slavery. We welcome all our guests to reflect with us on the meaning of freedom in each of our lives, traditions and histories. We will have the opportunity to consider our blessings, pledge to work harder at freeing those who still suffer, and try to cast off the things in our own lives that feel oppressive.

As we get started, get comfortable! Find a pillow to help you recline. In ancient times, eating while lounging on a pillow or couch was a sign of freedom. We anticipate this seder should take about 45 minutes from start to dinner. Enjoy!

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 cups and drink. 

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם
בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הַגָּפֶן:     

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

We praise you, Adonai, our God, Ruler of the universe, who creates the fruit of the vine.

We praise you, Adonai, our God, Ruler of the universe, who created a heritage that endures through the ages, ever changing and ever meaningful. We thank You for the many opportunities for holiness as we celebrate this joyous holiday of matzah together, remembering the liberation, the Exodus from Egypt. We praise you, God, who makes us holy in our celebration.

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 you, Adonai, our God, Ruler of the universe, who has given us life, sustained us, and brought us to this joyous season.

Drink the first glass of wine!

As in many world cultures and religions, water is a symbol of purification in Judaism. We will wash our hands twice during our seder—now, with no blessing, to get us ready for the rituals to come, and then again later, with a blessing, to prepare us for the meal, which Judaism thinks of as a ritual in itself. (The Jewish obsession with food is older than you thought!) 

To wash your hands, you don’t need soap, but you do need a cup to pour water over them. Pour water on each of your hands three times, alternating between them.

Celebrating Passover gives us all the opportunity to pause and reflect on what brings us together. 

Discussion Question

Let’s take a moment to consider what we hope to get out of our evening together. Go around the table and share one hope or expectation you have, or something you want to learn at tonight’s seder.

Passover, like many Jewish holidays, combines the celebration of an event from Jewish history and memory, as well as the continued cycle of our natural world. As we remember the Israelites’ liberation, we also welcome the beginning of spring, the budding of new plants and rebirth happening in the world around us. We now take a vegetable, representing our joy at the dawning of spring after our long, cold winter. Many use a green vegetable such as parsley or celery, but some people, primarily from Eastern Europe, have a tradition of using a boiled potato since greens were harder to come by at Passover time. Whatever symbol of spring and sustenance we’re using, we now dip it into salt water, a symbol of the tears the Israelites shed as slaves. 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 you, Adonai, our God, Ruler of the universe, who creates the fruits of the earth.

We look forward to spring and the reawakening of flowers and greenery. They haven’t been lost, just buried beneath the snow, getting ready for reappearance when we most need them. 

Discussion Question

We all have aspects of ourselves that sometimes get buried under the stresses of our busy lives. What has this winter taught us? What elements of our own lives do we hope to revive this spring?

[in Just-]

BY E. E. CUMMINGS

in Just-spring         

when the world is mud-

luscious the little

lame balloonman

whistles          far          and wee

and eddieandbill come

running from marbles and

piracies and it's

spring

when the world is puddle-wonderful

the queer

old balloonman whistles

far          and             wee

and bettyandisbel come dancing

from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

it's

spring

and

         the

                  goat-footed

balloonMan          whistles

far

and

wee

Around the hill on which we stand are ringed the woods,

Deep, deep into the valley below,

And stretch until in fringing green encroach

Upon the fields which roll beyond

The utmost margin of our view to where

The ranks of toothed hills stand row on row,

Green blueing into gray until the last

Is but a cloud.

David E. Goldberg, age 23, 1939

There are three pieces of matzah stacked on the table. We now break the middle matzah into two pieces. Our host will wrap up the larger of the pieces and, at some point between now and the end of dinner, hide it. This piece is called the afikoman, literally “dessert” in Greek. After dinner, all of us will have to hunt for the afikoman, and whoever finds it will win a prize!

We eat matzah, unleavened bread, to remind us that when the Israelites were finally freed, they fled Egypt so quickly that their bread did not have time to rise. 

Uncover and hold up the three pieces of matzah and say:

This is the bread of poverty that our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt. Let all who are hungry come and eat; all who are needy come and celebrate Passover with us. This year we are here; next year we will be in Israel. This year we are slaves; next year we will be free.

While we recline and enjoy our Passover celebration, we are reminded not only of the history that we commemorate, but also of our obligation to make our world better for those still enslaved, whether in bondage or by poverty or circumstance. We are commanded to seek out those who are hungry, to share in our bread of affliction, as we seek to ensure that the story of slavery is our past, not our present or future.

Discussion Question

Unfortunately, slavery exists in many forms in our world and for each of us. How can we take these words to heart this Passover?

We eat matzah in memory of the quick flight of our ancestors from Egypt. As slaves, they had faced many false starts before finally being let go. So when the word of their freedom came, they took whatever dough they had and ran with it before it had the chance to rise, leaving it looking something like matzah.

We uncover and hold up the three pieces of matzah and say:

This is the bread of poverty which our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt. All who are hungry, come and eat; all who are needy, come and celebrate Passover with us. This year we are here; next year we will be in Israel. This year we are slaves; next year we will be free.

These days, matzah is a special food and we look forward to eating it on Passover. Imagine eating only matzah, or being one of the countless people around the world who don’t have enough to eat.

What does the symbol of matzah say to us about oppression in the world, both people literally enslaved and the many ways in which each of us is held down by forces beyond our control? How does this resonate with events happening now?

Pour your second glass of wine.

The Haggadah doesn’t tell the story of Passover in a linear fashion. We don’t hear of Moses being found by the daughter of Pharaoh; actually, we don’t hear much of Moses at all. Instead, we get an impressionistic collection of songs, images and stories of both the Exodus and from Passover celebrations through the centuries. Some say that minimizing the role of Moses keeps us focused on the miracles God performed for us. Others insist that we keep the focus on the role that every member of the community has in bringing about positive change.

If there is no struggle, there is no progress.

Those who profess to favor freedom, and yet depreciate agitation, are men who want crops without plowing up the ground. They want rain without thunder and lightning. They want the ocean without the awful roar of its many waters.

This struggle may be a moral one; or it may be a physical one; or it may be both moral and physical; but it must be a struggle. Power concedes nothing without a demand. It never did and it never will.

Frederick Douglass

God’s hand in the world

Is like my mother’s hand in the bowels

Of a slaughtered chicken

On Sabbath eve.

What does God see outside the window

While his hands are shoved inside the world?

Well, what does my mother see?

Yehuda Amichai

עֲבָדִים הָיִינו.
עַתָּה בְּנֵי חוֹרִין:    

Avadim hayinu.
Ata b’nei chorin.

We were slaves.
Now we are free.

We were slaves to Pharaoh, and God took us from there with a strong hand and outstretched arm. Had God not brought our ancestors out of captivity, then even today we and our children and our grandchildren would still be slaves. Even if we were all wise and the most knowledgeable scholars, we would still be obligated to tell the story of the Exodus.

The Four Questions

מַה נִּשְׁתַּנָּה הַלַּיְלָה הַזֶּה מִכָּל הַלֵּילוֹת?

שֶׁבְּכָל הַלֵּילוֹת אָנוּ אוֹכְלִין חָמֵץ וּמַצָּה, הַלַּיְלָה הַזֶּה – כֻּלּוֹ מַצָּה.

שֶׁבְּכָל הַלֵּילוֹת אָנוּ אוֹכְלִין שְׁאָר יְרָקוֹת – הַלַּיְלָה הַזֶּה (כֻּלּוֹ) מָרוֹר

. שֶׁבְּכָל הַלֵּילוֹת אֵין אָנוּ מַטְבִּילִין אֲפִילוּ פַּעַם אֶחָת – הַלַּיְלָה הַזֶּה שְׁתֵּי פְעָמִים.

שֶׁבְּכָל הַלֵּילוֹת אָנוּ אוֹכְלִין בֵּין יוֹשְׁבִין וּבֵין מְסֻבִּין – הַלַּיְלָה הַזֶּה כֻּלָּנוּ מְסֻבִּין

Ma nishtanah halailah hazeh mikol haleilot?

Sheb’khol haleilot anu okhlin hametz umatzah; halailah hazeh, kuloh matzah.

Sheb’khol haleilot anu okhlin sh’ar y’rakot; halailah hazeh, maror.

Sheb’khol haleilot ein anu matbilin afilu pa’am ehat; halailah hazeh, shtei f’amim.

Sheb’khol haleilot anu okhlin bein yoshvin uvein m’subin; halailah hazeh, kulanu m’subin.

Why is this night different from all other nights?

On all other nights we eat leavened products and matzah, and on this night only matzah.

On all other nights we eat all vegetables, and on this night only bitter herbs.

On all other nights, we don’t dip our food even once, and on this night we dip twice.

On all other nights we eat sitting or reclining, and on this night we only recline.

Jewish tradition tells of four children with unique ways of understanding Passover: the wise child, the wicked child, the simple child and the silent child. Yet we know that no child is all wise, all wicked, all simple or incapable of asking anything. At different points in our lives, we have been each of these children.

What does the wise child say? 
The wise child asks diligently, “What are the testimonies and laws which God commanded you?”

What does it mean to be the wise child? 
It means to be fully engaged in the community, to know the limits of your understanding, to be able to search for the answers to that which you do not know. 

At different points in our lives, we have been this child—inquisitive, caring, eager to learn and to understand, wiling to ask for information we do not have, hopeful that an answer can be found.

What does the wicked child say? 
The wicked child asks, “What does this service mean to you?”
To you and not to himself or herself. 

What does it mean to be the wicked child? 
It means to stand apart from the community, to feel alienated and alone, depending only on yourself, to have little trust in the people around you to help or answer your questions.

At different points in our lives, we have been this child—detached, suspicious, challenging.

What does the simple child say? 
The simple child asks, “What is this?”

What does it mean to be a simple child? 
It means to see only one layer of meaning, to ask the most basic of questions, to be too innocent or impatient to grasp complicated questions.

At different points in our lives, we have all been this child—simply curious and innocently unaware of the complexities around us.

What about the child who doesn’t know how to ask a question? 
Help this child ask. Start telling the story: “It is because of what God did for me in taking me out of Egypt.”

What does it mean to be the silent child? 
This can be the indifferent child, no longer willing to engage. It can be the passive child, who just shows up. Or it can be the child whose spiritual life is based on faith, not rational arguments, the child who hears something deeper than words, who knows how to be silent and to listen to the surrounding silence.

At different points in our lives, we have all been this child—unable to articulate, quiet, searching for the right words, listening in silence.

Discussion Question

We have asked the cleverest of questions; we have challenged provocatively; we have simply wanted to know the answer; and we have been so confused that we could not speak. We have been all of these children. Which one are you tonight?

Our story starts in ancient times with Abraham, who followed God’s command and became the very first believer. The idea of one God, invisible and all-powerful, inspired him to leave his family and begin a new people in Canaan, the land that would one day bear his grandson Jacob’s adopted name, Israel. 

God made a promise to Abraham that his family would become a great nation, but this promise came with a vision of the troubles along the way: “Your descendants will dwell for a time in a land that is not their own, and they will be enslaved and afflicted for four hundred years; however, I will punish the nation that enslaved them, and afterwards they shall leave with great wealth.”

Raise your glass of wine and say:

וְהִיא שֶׁעָמְדָה לַאֲבוֹתֵֽינוּ וְלָֽנוּ.

V’hi she-amda l’avoteinu v’lanu.

This promise has sustained our ancestors and us.

For not only one enemy has risen against us to annihilate us, but in every generation, there are those who rise against us. But God saves us from those who seek to harm us.

Put down your glass of wine.

In the years our ancestors lived in Egypt, our numbers multiplied, and soon the family of Jacob became the People of Israel. Pharaoh and his advisers became alarmed by this great nation flourishing within their borders, so they enslaved us. We were forced to perform hard labor, perhaps even build pyramids. Our oppressors feared that even as slaves, the Israelites might grow strong and overthrow them, so Pharaoh decreed that Israelite baby boys should be drowned in the Nile.

But God heard the cries of the Israelites. And God brought us out of Egypt with a strong hand and outstretched arm, with great awe, miraculous signs and wonders. God brought us out not by angel or messenger, but through God’s own intervention. 

The Song of The Beggar
by Rainer Maria Rilke

I am always going from door to door,
whether in rain or heat,
and sometimes I will lay my right ear in
the palm of my right hand.
And as I speak my voice seems strange as if
it were alien to me,

for I'm not certain whose voice is crying:
mine or someone else's.
I cry for a pittance to sustain me.
The poets cry for more.

In the end I conceal my entire face
and cover both my eyes;
there it lies in my hands with all its weight
and looks as if at rest,
so no one may think I had no place where-
upon to lay my head.

Refugee
by Emily Dickinson

These Strangers, in a foreign World,
Protection asked of me―
Befriend them, lest Yourself in Heaven
Be found a Refugee―

As we rejoice at the Israelites’ deliverance from slavery, we acknowledge this freedom was hard-earned. We regret that freedom came at the cost of others’ suffering, for we are all made in the image of God. Therefore, we take away just a little bit of our joy of wine by placing a drop of it on our plates as we recite each of the Ten Plagues. 

Dip a finger or a spoon into your wine glass to get a drop for each plague.

דָּם    dam     Blood
צְפַרְדֵּֽעַ     tzfardeiya     Frogs
כִּנִּים     kinim     Lice
עָרוֹב     arov     Beasts
דֶּֽבֶר     dever     Cattle disease
שְׁחִין     sh’chin     Boils
בָּרָד     barad     Hail
אַרְבֶּה     arbeh     Locusts
חֹֽשֶׁךְ     choshech     Darkness
מַכַּת בְּכוֹרוֹת     makat b’chorot     Death of the firstborn

Discussion Question

The Ten Plagues wreaked havoc on the country of Egypt and all its inhabitants, including the mighty Pharaoh. They ruined livestock and agriculture, water and health, staples in ancient society as well as today. While the plagues in our story have a clear message and purpose, they are still often things that plague our world today. What else might you add to this list? What are the plagues of our day? What work can we do to rid our world of them?

We have tried you good people of the public and we have found you wanting.

Every year thousands of us are maimed. The life of men and women is so cheap and property is so sacred.

But every time the workers come out to protest against conditions which are unbearable, the strong hand of the law is allowed to press down heavily upon us. The strong hand of the law beats us back into the conditions that make life unbearable.

I can't talk fellowship to you who are gathered here. Too much blood has been spilled. I know from my experience it is up to the working people to save themselves. The only way they can save themselves is by a strong working-class movement.

Rose Schneiderman, April 1911, protest rally for 146 women killed in the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire.

The plagues and subsequent redemption are but one example of the might and protection of God. As we tell this story of triumph, we sing the words of Dayeinu (“It would have been enough”), for just a single act of love from God would have sufficed, and yet God continues to show us compassion. 

אִלּוּ הוֹצִיאָֽנוּ מִמִּצְרַֽיִם,
דַּיֵּנוּ:    

Ilu hotzianu mi-mitzrayim, 
Dayeinu

If God had only taken us out of Egypt, 
that would have been enough!

אִלּוּ נָתַן לָֽנוּ אֶת־הַתּוֹרָה
 דַּיֵּנוּ:

Ilu natan lanu et ha-Torah, 
Dayeinu

If God had only given us the Torah, 
that would have been enough!

Dayeinu tells the entire story of the Exodus from Egypt as a series of miracles God performed for us. It also reminds us that each of our lives is the cumulative result of many blessings, small and large.

If God had taken us out of Egypt and not judged the Egyptians— Dayeinu.
If God had judged the Egyptians, and not their idols— Dayeinu.
If God had judged their idols, and not killed their firstborns— Dayeinu.
If God had killed their firstborns, and not given us their wealth— Dayeinu.
If God had given us their wealth, and not torn the sea in two— Dayeinu.
If God had torn the sea in two, and not let us through it on dry land— Dayeinu.
If God had let us through on dry land, and not drowned our enemies— Dayeinu.
If God had drowned our enemies, and not sustained us with manna in the desert for 40 years— Dayeinu.
If God had fed us manna, and had not given us Shabbat— Dayeinu.
If God had given us Shabbat, and had not brought us to Mount Sinai— Dayeinu.
If God had brought us to Mount Sinai, and had not given us the Torah— Dayeinu.
If God had given us the Torah, and had not brought us to the land of Israel— Dayeinu.
If God had brought us to the land of Israel, and not built the Temple for us— Dayeinu.

Discussion Question

What are the blessings in your life? Go around the table and share the things you feel grateful for in your life, both small and large.

We have now told the story of Passover…but wait! We’re not quite done. There are still several symbols on our seder plate we haven’t explained. Rabban Gamaliel would say that whoever didn’t explain the shank bone, matzah and maror (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. During the final plague, the Israelites were instructed to smear lamb’s blood on the lintel of their homes so the angel of death would pass over their homes. The sacrifice and now the shank bone are called pesach, from the Hebrew word meaning “to pass over,” because God passed over the houses of the Israelites when inflicting plagues upon their Egyptian oppressors.

The matzah on our table reminds us that when the Israelites were finally freed from bondage, they rushed to leave Egypt before Pharaoh could change his mind. As they fled, the dough they made for bread did not have time to fully rise, so they ate flat matzah instead. During Passover, we also eat matzah and refrain from eating anything that is leavened or can rise.

The bitter herbs symbolize the bitterness of slavery, the life of hard labor the Israelites experienced.

During our Passover seder, we are reminded over and over again to tell this important story of freedom to each other and to those who will come after us. We do this to remember, to feel a connection to the story of the Israelites so we will never take our freedom for granted. Every generation is plagued with different challenges to freedom, and our story takes on new meanings throughout hundreds and hundreds of years. In the modern era, alongside the symbols of old, newer elements have been added to many seder plates to remind us of present-day struggles and triumphs.

So how was it that the orange found its place on the seder plate as a symbol of feminism, egalitarianism and those who are often marginalized?

The story has it that scholar Susannah Heschel, daughter of Abraham Joshua Heschel, a preeminent modern Jewish philosopher, was inspired by the abundant new customs expressing women’s viewpoints and experiences and started placing an orange on the seder plate.

At an early point in the seder, she asked each person to take a segment of the orange, make the blessing over fruit and eat the segment in recognition of all those in our midst who feel marginalized in the Jewish community. She encouraged each guest to spit out the seeds in their orange segment to reject hatred and homophobia. The bright and vibrant orange suggests the fruitfulness for the whole community when everyone is a valued and respected member. 

בְּכָל־דּוֹר וָדוֹר חַיָּב אָדָם לִרְאוֹת אֶת־עַצְמוֹ,
כְּאִלּוּ הוּא יָצָא מִמִּצְרָֽיִם:    

B’chol dor vador chayav adam lirot et-atzmo,
k’ilu hu yatza mimitzrayim.

In every generation, everyone is obligated to see themselves
as though they personally left Egypt.

The seder reminds us that it was not only our ancestors whom God redeemed; God redeemed us too along with them. That’s why the Torah says, “God brought us out from there in order to lead us to and give us the land promised to our ancestors.”

We praise you, Adonai, our God, Ruler of the universe, who redeemed us and our ancestors from slavery, enabling us to reach this night and eat matzah and bitter herbs. May we continue to reach future holidays in peace and happiness. 

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם
בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הַגָּפֶן:     

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

We praise you, Adonai, our God, Ruler of the universe, 
who creates the fruit of the vine.

Drink the second glass of wine!

We still have a long, long way to go before we reach the promised land of freedom. Yes, we have left the dusty soils of Egypt, and we have crossed a Red Sea that had for years been hardened by a long and piercing winter of massive resistance, but before we reach the majestic shores of the promised land, there will still be gigantic mountains of opposition ahead and prodigious hilltops of injustice.

Let us be dissatisfied until the tragic walls that separate the outer city of wealth and comfort from the inner city of poverty and despair shall be crushed by the battering rams of the forces of justice.

Let us be dissatisfied until those who live on the outskirts of hope are brought into the metropolis of daily security.

Let us be dissatisfied until men and women will be judged on the basis of the content of their character, not on the basis of the color of their skin. Let us be dissatisfied.

Let us be dissatisfied until from every city hall, justice will roll down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream.

Let us be dissatisfied until that day when the lion and the lamb shall lie down together, and every man will sit under his own vine and fig tree, and none shall be afraid.

Martin Luther King Jr.

As we now transition from the formal telling of the Passover story to the celebratory meal, we once again wash our hands to prepare ourselves. In Judaism, a good meal together with friends and family is itself a sacred act, so we prepare for it just as we prepared for our holiday ritual, recalling the way ancient priests once prepared for service in the Temple.

Some people distinguish between washing to prepare for prayer and washing to prepare for food by changing the way they pour water on their hands. For washing before food, pour water three times on your right hand and then three times on your left hand. After you have poured the water over your hands, recite this short blessing.

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם
אֲשֶׁר קִדְּשָֽׁנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתָיו 
וְצִוָּנוּ עַל נְטִילַת יָדָֽיִם:    

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam,
asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav 
v’tzivanu al n’tilat yadayim.

We praise you, Adonai, our God, Ruler of the universe, 
who made us holy through obligations, commanding us to wash our hands.

We mark the start of our meal with the Motzi blessing, perhaps familiar from Shabbat. Because we are using matzah instead of bread, we add a blessing celebrating this Passover holiday.

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם
הַמּוֹצִיא לֶֽחֶם מִן הָאָֽרֶץ:     

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

We praise you, Adonai, our God, Ruler of the universe, 
who brings forth bread from the earth.

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 you, Adonai, our God, Ruler of the universe, 
who made us holy by commanding us to eat matzah.

Distribute the top and middle matzah for everyone to eat.

In creating a holiday about the joy of freedom, we turn the story of bitter history into a sweet celebration. We recognize this by dipping our bitter herbs into the sweet charoset. As we taste the bitterness of the herb, we are grateful for the sweetness of our delicious charoset. 

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

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

We praise you, Adonai, our God, Ruler of the universe, 
who made us holy by commanding us to eat bitter herbs.

Blessed is the match that was burned, yet kindled flames.
Blessed are the flames that blazed in the secret depths of hearts.
Blessed are the hearts that knew how to cease with honor.
Blessed is the match that was burned, yet kindled flames.

Hannah Senesh, 1944

When the Temple stood in Jerusalem more than a thousand years ago, the most important sacrifice was the pesach, or lamb sacrifice. The great sage Hillel would put the lamb meat in a sandwich made of matzah, along with some of the bitter herbs. While Jews no longer make sacrifices, we honor this custom by eating a sandwich of the remaining matzah and bitter herbs. Many will also include charoset in the sandwich to remind us again of the sweetness of freedom.

Relax, eat and enjoy friends, family and guests! But remember, when we’re done eating we’ve got a little more seder to go, including the final two cups of wine.

The fun and silliness of searching for and hopefully finding the afikoman reminds us that we balance our difficult collective memories of slavery with a joyous and grateful celebration of freedom. As we eat the afikoman, our dessert and our last taste of matzah for the evening, we are grateful for these moments with our friends and family.

Refill your wine glass.

We now say the blessing after the meal, thanking God for the food we have eaten. On Passover, we continue celebrating our joy of freedom by finishing this blessing with our third glass of wine:

We praise you, Adonai, our God, Ruler of the universe, whose goodness sustains the world. You are the origin of love and compassion, the source of sustenance for all. We praise God, source of sustenance for all. 

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 spirits in our time. We praise you, God, who centers us. May the source of peace grant peace to us, to the house of Israel, and to the entire world. Amen. 

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 you, Adonai, our God, Ruler of the universe, 
who creates the fruit of the vine.

Drink the third glass of wine!

We now refill our wine glasses one last time and open the front door to invite the prophet Elijah to join our seder and drink from his glass of wine with us. 

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 brought directly up to God on a chariot. Some believe Elijah will return to herald a new era of peace, so we set a place for Elijah, hopeful that he may join us and bring peace to the whole world.

אֵלִיָּֽהוּ הַנָּבִיא, אֵלִיָּֽהוּ הַתִּשְׁבִּי,
אֵלִיָּֽהוּ, אֵלִיָּֽהוּ,אֵלִיָּֽהוּ הַגִּלְעָדִי.
בִּמְהֵרָה בְיָמֵֽנוּ יָבוֹא אֵלֵֽינוּ
עִם מָשִֽׁיחַ בֶּן דָּוִד, 
עִם מָשִֽׁיחַ בֶּן דָּוִד.    

Eliyahu hanavi, Eliyahu hatishbi
Eliyahu, Eliyahu, Eliyahu hagiladi
Bimheirah v’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.

RITUAL OF REMEMBRANCE

On this night of the Seder, we remember with reverence and love the six million of our people who perished at the hands of a tyrant more wicked than Pharoah. Come, said he to his minions, let us cut them off from being a people, that the name of Israel may be remembered no more. And they slew the blameless and pure, men and women and little ones, with vapors of poison and burned them with fire. But we abstain from dwelling on the deeds of the evil ones lest we defame the image of God in which man was created.

Now, the remnants of our people who were left in the ghettos and camps of annihilation rose up against the wicked ones for the sanctification of the Name, and slew many of them before they died. On the first day of Passover, the remnants in the ghetto of Warsaw rose up against the adversary, even as in the days of Judah the Maccabee. They were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in their death they were not divided, and they brought redemption to the name of Israel through all the world.

And from the depths of their affliction the martyrs lifted their voices in a song of faith in the coming of the Messiah, when justice and brotherhood will reign among men.

They sang “Ani Ma’amin” (“I Believe”), the song of the martyrs in the Ghettos and liquidation camps.

“I believe with perfect faith in the coming of the

Messiah; and though he tarry, none the less do I believe.”

Ani Ma’amin, Ani Ma’amin, Ani Ma’amin

Be’emuna shleyma, be’emuna shleyma

Beviat hamashiach, beviat hamashiach, Ani Ma’amin

Ve’af al pi sheyit-mameya, Im kol zeh Ani Ma’amin

Rufus Learsi

This is the time set aside for singing. Some of us might sing traditional prayers from the Book of Psalms. Others take this moment for favorites like “Let My People Go” or ”Chad Gadya.” To celebrate our freedom, we might sing songs from the civil rights movement, or other songs of triumph over struggle. Or perhaps someone at the table has some parody lyrics about Passover to the tunes from a musical or a Beatles song! We’re at least three glasses of wine into the night, so just roll with it!

As we come to the end of the seder, we drink a final glass of wine. With this last cup, we give thanks for the experience of celebrating Passover together, for the traditions that remind us to be grateful for all we have, for celebrating with friends and family and seeking to make the world a better place, where all are free. 

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם
בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הַגָּפֶן:     

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

We praise you, Adonai, our God, Ruler of the universe, 
who creates the fruit of the vine.

Drink the fourth and final glass of wine!

I came not for fortune, nor for fame.

I seek not to add glory to an unknown name.

I did not come under the shadow of night.

I came by day to fight for what’s right.

I shan’t let fear, my monstrous foe

Conquer my soul with threat and woe.

Here I have come and here I shall stay

No amount of fear my determination shall sway.

But tomorrow surely must come

And your enemy will still be there with the rising sun.

He’ll be there tomorrow, as all tomorrows in the past

And he’ll follow you into the future if you let him pass.

You’ve turned me down to humor him.

Ah! Your fate is sad and grim.

For even though your help I ask

Even without it I’ll finish my task.

Joyce Brown, age 16,

Freedom School, McComb, Mississippi, 1965

You, who are on the road,
Must have a code that you can live by.
And so, become yourself
Because the past is just a goodbye.

Teach your children well
Their father's hell did slowly go by
And feed them on your dreams
The one they pick's the one you'll know by.

Don't you ever ask them, "Why?"
If they told you, you would cry,
So just look at them and sigh
And know they love you

And you, of tender years
Can't know the fears that your elders grew by.
And so, please help them with your youth
They seek the truth before they can die.

And teach your parents well
Their children's hell will slowly go by,
And feed them on your dreams.
The one they pick's the one you'll know by.

Don't you ever ask them, "Why?
If they told you, you would cry
So just look at them and sigh
And know they love you.

Graham Nash

We have come to the end of our seder. We hope to have the opportunity in the years to come to continue telling this story of freedom with our loved ones. We pray this coming year brings health and healing, joy and liberation, gratitude and wonder to all the people of the world.

And we say:

לְשָׁנָה הַבָּאָה בִּירוּשָׁלָֽיִם:

L’shana haba-ah biy’rushalayim!

NEXT YEAR IN JERUSALEM!

1. What do you consider your “promised land,” or heaven on earth?

2. In Hebrew, the word for Egypt is “Mitzraim,” which literally means “narrow place.” What is one way that you wish for our society to be more open?

3. Moses is considered one of the greatest leaders in our history — he is described as being smart, courageous, selfless and kind. Which of today’s leaders inspires you in a similar way?

4. Miriam was a prophetess and the sister of Moses who, after crossing the Red Sea, led the women in song and dance with tambourines. She is described as being courageous, confident, insightful and nurturing. Which musician or artist today inspires you in a similar way?

5. More recent and ongoing struggles for freedom include civil rights, GLBTQ equality, and women’s rights. Who is someone involved in this work that you admire?

6. Is there someone — or multiple people — in your family’s history who made their own journey to freedom?

7. Freedom is a central theme of Passover. When in your life have you felt most free?

8. If you could write an 11th commandment, what would it be?

9. What’s the longest journey you have ever taken?

10. How many non-food uses for matzah can you think of? Discuss!

11. Let’s say you are an Israelite packing for 40 years in the desert. What three modern items would you want to bring?

12. The Haggadah says that in every generation of Jewish history enemies have tried to eliminate us. What are the biggest threats you see to Judaism today?

13. The Passover seder format encourages us to ask as many questions as we can. What questions has Judaism encouraged you to ask?

14. Israel is central to the Passover seder. Do you think modern Israel is central to Jewish life? Why or why not?

15. The manna in the desert had a taste that matched the desire of each individual who ate it. For you, what would that taste be? Why?

16. Let’s say you had to swim across the Red Sea, and it could be made of anything except water. What would you want it to be?

17. If the prophet Elijah walked through the door and sat down at your table, what’s the first thing you would ask him?

18. Afikoman means “dessert” in Greek. If you could only eat one dessert for the rest of your life, what would it be?

19. What is something you wish to cleanse yourself of this year? A bad habit? An obsession or addiction?

20. The word “seder” means “order.” How do you maintain order in your life?

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Download the PDF here: https://www.jewishboston.com/20-table-topics-for-your-passover-seder/

Over the years, the Passover story has evolved from a story just about Moses and Aaron to include their female counterparts. We set aside a cup of water for Miriam, celebrate Shifrah and Puah for their act of bravery and comment on Pharaoh’s daughter’s defiant move. As we commemorate the leadership of matriarchs in the Exodus story, the questions about our contemporary relationship to women’s rights and liberation come to the fore. These questions contemplate how our future can be more equitable and just for all women. 

What is a feminist?

We’ve heard the word before. Feminist. But the meaning of the word seems…controversial. Is a feminist someone who hates men? To be a feminist, do you have to burn your bra and not shave your armpits? Is Lena Dunham really a feminist?

Simply put, being a feminist means you believe in the social, political and economic equality of women. So why is it such a dirty word? What makes this such a “hot topic”?

Ask around the table: What does it mean to you to be a feminist? Do you identify as a feminist? Why or why not?

Why is it essential that feminism be intersectional?

The term “intersectional,” coined by scholar and activist Kimberlé Crenshaw, is the idea that multiple identities intersect to create a whole; in order to fully understand someone’s identity, we must think of each separate identity as linked to all the others. As an example, a white Jewish woman is all three parts of her identity; she cannot simply separate her race, religion and gender when these identities intersect and interplay with one another constantly.

So why is this important in relation to feminism? Because if our concept of equality doesn’t include the liberation of women of color, queer women, disabled women, then what are we fighting for? If we don’t name these identities explicitly in our struggle, we leave out the essential experience and strength they bring.

Do you think your feminism is intersectional? Do you think it’s important that feminism be intersectional? Have you thought about intersectional feminism before?

How can we better include trans women in our fight for gender equality?

Speaking of intersectionality, as trans issues have come into the media spotlight over the past few years, it’s essential we think about how we can improve our inclusion of trans women in feminism. When we consider the wage gap, are we talking about anyone besides white cisgender (i.e. non-transgender) women? When we fight for health care, are we accounting for the needs of trans women within that system? When we talk about reproductive justice, do we conflate being a woman with having a uterus? Do our women’s events have space for trans women to feel comfortable using the restroom? Jewish women’s spaces often center on bat mitzvah or Rosh Chodesh; can we expand these rituals and events to meaningfully include trans women?

How do you think we can better include trans women in our fight for gender justice? And beyond the fight for women’s rights, how is your Jewish community inclusive of the trans community?

What are some concrete ways we can fight for gender equality?

It’s easy to be theoretical when we talk about the struggle for justice. While it’s great to use our brains and hearts sometimes, we must use our hands as well. Not every act of rebellion needs to be a huge march or protest. Not everyone can call or march, not everyone can strike or boycott, not everyone is safe enough to speak up; however, everyone can take some action.

Go around the table and share one way you will fight against the patriarchy this year. Make a public commitment to those at your seder table and tell everyone about how you can make a difference.

With gratitude and love to Gracie Bulleit, Annie Kee, Andrea Krakovsky, Jordyn Rozensky and Joanna Ware for their input and help.

Written by Emilia Diamant for JewishBoston, March 2017.

When we think of the Exodus, we recall that our ancestors were slaves in Egypt. While we often believe that slavery has been eradicated in our day, many of the same oppressive conditions under which the Israelites lived in Egypt can be found in our own country today. Workers often live perilous lives in unsafe working conditions. Housekeepers and janitors handle toxic chemicals without any protections or training. Day laborers may have their wages withheld without explanation. Hourly workers may never see overtime pay, or are forced to work “off the clock.” Without a living wage, and without basic benefits like paid leave and health care coverage, many workers today must work multiple jobs, giving up valuable time with their families.

Like slaves, many workers have no say in their working conditions. Like slaves, workers give up their dignity to serve the bottom line.

Passover is an ideal time to engage in the struggle for workers’ rights and economic justice. We can look at what is going on with people who work in all kinds of jobs, including our own. This holiday calls us to become involved in advancing the dignity of workers.

Judaism values work and workers. Go around the table: What kind of work do you do, and do you feel respected at work?

We spend much of our lives working, so it’s important that people are respected for their work, no matter their position. Respect for one’s work is demonstrated in many ways, such as paying workers decent wages, listening to how they think the work could best be done and allowing time and flexibility for people to pay attention to their families and their own health. At the Jewish Labor Committee, we understand that low-wage workers and middle-class workers are often taken advantage of, and that it’s important to stand up for all workers. We work in the Jewish community to gather support for workers.

Many people who have jobs don’t get paid enough to pay for basic needs or work in unsafe conditions. What are the ways that unions, government policy and consumer demand can help change workers’ conditions?

For the better part of a century, the Jewish Labor Committee has worked to engage the Jewish community in supporting union campaigns, legislation and consumer boycotts that have improved the lives of thousands of people. When businesses and legislators see that the Jewish community takes a stand on worker issues, it makes a significant difference. In the past year, the New England Jewish Labor Committee supported Verizon workers, janitors and Harvard University dining-hall workers to win union contracts that improved their wages, provided job security and improved or continued their health-care benefits. Currently, in the Massachusetts Legislature, we are working to pass an increase of the minimum wage to $15 an hour, as well as pass the Paid Family and Medical Leave Act to help employees when they or their family members are ill, or when a new child comes into the family.

The story of Passover teaches us that slavery is wrong. Where does slavery currently exist in the U.S. and in the world, and what’s being done to stop it?

It’s hard to imagine that slavery exists today, but it does, even in the United States—on farms, in prisons and in homes. In recent years, the Coalition of Immokalee Workers, whose work the Jewish Labor Committee has been involved with for the past five years, exposed and halted slavery on farms in Florida. There are also domestic workers across the U.S. and in Massachusetts who are not allowed to leave the households where they work because their employers have taken their passports and cell phones to prevent them from leaving. The Massachusetts Coalition of Domestic Workers, along with the New England Jewish Labor Committee, is one of the groups fighting against this.

Our criminal-justice system does not protect prisoners from working for nothing or almost nothing, producing large profits for corporations in much the same way African-American slaves worked as slaves in the U.S. before the Civil War. We have many social-action groups in Massachusetts synagogues that are working for criminal-justice reform. There are also organizations, such as the National Council of Jewish Women, who are working to stop the practice of girls and young women being taken into the sex industry against their will.

In our society, people who have different work lives than we do may be invisible to us. What might we gain, as individuals and as a society, by getting to know people who earn their living in different ways than we do?

Part of the reason our country is experiencing such a big political divide is that we don’t have much real contact with people of different socio-economic classes than our own. As economic inequality has grown, we have less easy opportunities to build relationships with people who have different kinds of jobs. Reaching out to people and hearing each other’s stories will help bridge that divide. This helps everyone feel more connected, hopeful and less alone.

Written by New England Jewish Labor Committee for JewishBoston, March 2017.

The world faces many challenges, and for one of them—climate change—the time available to reverse the current trend is limited. In the midrash, God tells us: “See to it that you do not spoil and destroy My world; for if you do, there will be no one else to repair it.” The reality is that we are spoiling and destroying the world, but if we act now, with passion and a sense of purpose, we can still make a difference in the future of the planet. On Passover, we are each to consider that we ourselves are coming out of bondage and into freedom, and freedom brings responsibility. Quite appropriately, in the words of the sage Hillel, “If not now, when?” 

Why is this night different from all other nights?

Until this night, we paid little heed to the effect of fossil fuel consumption on the planet.

We’ve only been able to accurately measure the level of carbon in the atmosphere since the 1960s, when it was found to be 315 ppm; 350 ppm is considered safe for the future of the planet, but currently carbon levels exceed 400 ppm. Ninety-seven percent of all climate scientists understand that consuming fossil fuels such as coal, oil and natural gas, along with other human actions, will continue to change the world into a less and less hospitable home for our children and grandchildren.

Until this night, we ignored the impact of our actions on the health of the planet and the viability of all species.

All our choices—from the goods and materials we buy, use and throw away to the choices about what food we eat, what type of transportation we use and how we invest our money—impact the environment in terms of water, land, air pollution and greenhouse gases. More sustainable personal and communal choices can lessen this impact. When we understand that we and all other living and nonliving things are part of God’s sacred creation, it’s easier for us to treat it with love and respect.

Until this night, we disregarded the consequences of our food choices on our carbon footprint.

The entire global food system, from manufacturing fertilizer to growing, harvesting, storing, packaging and transporting food, is responsible for up to 30% of all human-caused greenhouse gas emissions. Switching from meat-rich meals to vegetarian ones significantly reduces an average person’s carbon footprint.

Until this night, we left others in charge of caring for the planet while we sat by, dazzled by the conveniences of our modern economy.

The majority of people in the world believe climate change is a serious or very serious problem. The intensity of concern varies across the world, and Latin Americans and sub-Saharan Africans are more worried than Americans and Chinese, whose countries have the highest overall carbon dioxide emissions. In the United States, although most people believe climate change is a serious issue, few give high priority to combating it. In the meantime, parts of Pacific Island nations are disappearing under rising sea levels.

As you travel to freedom this Passover, what new responsibility toward protecting creation and future generations are you willing to take on as an expression of your newfound personal freedom? Areas of your life to consider are food, transportation, plastics and other goods and materials, renewable energy, advocacy, self and community education, and personal finances. What can you do in your own life to live more sustainably? Who else can you help to change—your work, house of worship, extended family, elected officials?

Aldo Leopold said: “A thing is right when it tends to preserve the integrity, stability and beauty of the biotic community. It is wrong when it tends otherwise.” What do you see in your actions that are right and wrong by this standard?

Birds, mammals, reptiles, amphibians and fish are dying 72 times faster than normal. Eliminating biodiversity threatens to disrupt the pollination of flowers, water purification and the food chain. How does this affect you and your community? How close do you live to the ocean? Have you thought about how the increasing sea rate rise will affect you, your children and your grandchildren?

The Amazon rainforest is called the “lungs of the world” because more than 20 percent of the world oxygen is produced there. Yet 150 acres are cut down each day, vanishing at 20,000 square miles a year. As this trend continues, how do you think it will affect you?

A relationship to land that is strictly economic is based on privileges and not obligation. And yet the midrash said, “See to it that you do not spoil and destroy My world.” What other ways can we have a relationship to land that is more ethical?

Every year, 180 million tons of toxic waste is dumped into rivers, lakes, streams and oceans by mining companies. This waste can contain arsenic, lead, mercury, cyanide and over 30 other dangerous chemicals. This environmental damage affects us all. How do you think you are affected?

Air transportation is responsible for 3 percent of the total carbon dioxide emissions of the United States. Aircraft also contribute to ozone and water vapor, both harmful to the environment. The Environmental Protection Agency has acknowledged that airplane pollution disrupts the climate and endangers human welfare. Can you think of ways to reduce your air travel in the future?

Written by Jewish Climate Action Network for JewishBoston, March 2017.

We are taught to tell the story of Passover as if each of us individually were enslaved in Egypt, and each of us individually were liberated. In that way, the work of dismantling white supremacy calls on each of us to realize we are personally implicated. It is not enough to agree with the idea of equality. Judaism consistently asks us to go beyond beliefs into action. Tonight, we ask ourselves about our own actions—and we also ask the friends, family and community gathered together at the seder about our collective actions. Situated within the racial history and racial hierarchy of the U.S., we start with questions about anti-black racism. 

What are we doing to pursue the Movement for Black Lives platform?

The good news about doing anti-racist actions in the U.S. is that we don’t have to guess about what needs to be done. The Movement for Black Lives is a coalition of more than 50 organizations fighting for black liberation and for the end of state-sanctioned violence against black people and communities. The platform is divided into six sets of demands: end the war on black people; reparations; invest-divest; economic justice; community control; and political power. Each specific demand includes local, state and federal policy recommendations. Where do you have influence? What can you do to ensure that we, collectively, meet these demands?

What are we doing to support black trans women?

Mesha Caldwell, Jamie Lee Wounded Arrow, Jojo Striker, Jaquarrius Holland, Tiara Lashaytheboss Richmond, Chyna Doll Dupree and Ciara McElveen are seven transgender women of color known to have been murdered this year alone (by the time we are writing this in March 2017). Five of them were black. And there are countless more black trans women who are still alive. What are you doing to support them? They are creating beautiful art and running amazing advocacy organizations and building fiercely loving relationships and need money and jobs and housing and health care and need to not be killed by acts of racist-transmisogynist violence. They need to not be dehumanized. Trans women are women and black trans lives matter.

What are we doing to follow the leadership of black women and femmes?

Trust black women. This includes black trans women. This includes black femmes, as in people who embody femininity, feminine expression and/or femme identity. Black Lives Matter was founded by Alicia Garza, Patrisse Cullors and Opal Tometi—three black women. Tamika Mallory is a national organizer of the Women’s March on Washington. Ayanna Pressley has served on the Boston City Council since 2009. Janet Mock. Laverne Cox. Angela Davis. So many more. Listen when they speak, take in their words and push yourself to do what they are asking of you. When was the last time you did something that black women asked you to do? What are the black women in your community asking you to do? What are Jewish black women asking you to do?

Good news again—there is still plenty of guidance out there, in this case particularly for white folks trying to answer the above questions. Check this out, by Leslie Mac and Marissa Jenae Johnson, two black women activists: “Safety Pin Box is a monthly subscription box for white people striving to be allies in the fight for black liberation. Box memberships are a way to not only financially support black femme freedom fighters, but also complete measurable tasks in the fight against white supremacy.” Money raised from monthly subscriptions goes to individual black women and femmes working for black liberation. How can white people step into the roles black people are asking us to fill? What would it take for you to sign up for Safety Pin Box?

What are we ready to risk?

Ava DuVernay (another brilliant black woman) in her documentary “13th” highlights that the 13th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution outlawed slavery, “except as punishment for a crime.” As we tell the story of our own liberation from slavery, we see too that mass incarceration is slavery, and it is racial violence. Police brutality, vigilante murders and the criminalization of protests, immigration and addiction are all part of this system of abuse and control. When we say “Never again,” how can we mean it if it’s happening right now? Race-based violence is so deeply woven into our social structures that we need to deeply change our social structures in order to end race-based violence. That means now. That means urgently.

What will you put on the line to demand these changes? How much time, energy and money will you contribute? Are you willing to risk relationships to call people out on racism? Are you willing to risk your reputation within your field or workplace? For white folks, are you willing to risk the layers of safety that come with whiteness? Supporting black people means risking all that comes with the whiteness status that Ashkenazi Jews have gained. It means using power and privilege to advance goals perhaps alien to your own. What does whiteness mean to you, how does it shape your life and what will it take to leverage its power? Are you willing to risk your body by showing up to a Black Lives Matter protest? Are you willing to risk your own individual life goals? What will it look like for you to make racial justice a priority?

Written by Mimi Arbeit and Marc Dones for JewishBoston, March 2017.

The centrality of Israel to the Jewish faith and experience is central to the holiday of Passover. The Passover story is one of wandering and redemption. It is the story of a people yearning for a homeland. In fact, each Passover seder concludes with the words, “Next year in Jerusalem.”

This year, 2017, is a year of great significance in Israel’s modern history. These four questions look at the significant anniversaries in the history of modern Israel in an attempt to answer, “Why is 2017 different from all other years?”

What is the significance of the First Zionist Congress?

One-hundred-twenty years ago (August 1897), the First Zionist Congress convened in Switzerland. Led by Theodor Herzl, the three-day meeting included an estimated 200 participants representing 17 countries. Herzl was elected president of the Zionist Organization at the meeting, during which the congress established means to obtain the creation of a Jewish homeland in Israel. It took 51 years for that dream to become a reality.

What does the existence of a Jewish state mean to you?

What is the significance of the Balfour Declaration?

One hundred years ago (November 1917), British Foreign Secretary James Balfour sent a letter to Baron Lionel Walter Rothschild, Britain’s most famed Jewish citizen. The letter, which came to be known as the Balfour Declaration, declared for the first time the British government’s support for a Jewish homeland in Palestine: “His Majesty’s Government view with favor the establishment in Palestine of a national home for the Jewish people, and will use their best endeavors to facilitate the achievement of this object, it being clearly understood that nothing shall be done which may prejudice the civil and religious rights of existing non-Jewish communities in Palestine, or the rights and political status enjoyed by Jews in any other country.” The Balfour Declaration paved the way for the U.N. Partition Plan, which led to the establishment of the Jewish state.

How do you think the Balfour Declaration shaped modern Jewish history?

What is the significance of the U.N. Partition Plan?

Seventy years ago (November 1947), the United Nations voted to create two states—one Jewish, one Arab—in the British Palestine Mandate. Resolution 181, as it was called, required Britain to withdraw from the territory and draw boundaries for the two states. Jews in Palestine accepted the plan; the Arabs, backed by regional Arab states, rejected it. While it predated the birth of modern Israel by one year, the 1947 U.N. partition marked the beginning of an era of animosity between Israel and surrounding Arab states.

The U.N. Partition Plan created a divided land. What is the significance of a divided state? The Arab rejection of an Israeli state in the Middle East has led to wars, boycotts, animosity and terrorism against Jews in Israel and around the world. How do you think the conflict can be resolved? Can it ever be resolved?

What was the significance of the Six-Day War?

Fifty years ago (June 1967), there was a short but monumental conflict between Israel and its Arab neighbors. The Six-Day War saw a stunning military victory for the only 19-year-old modern Jewish state, one which altered the course of its history. In addition to liberating Jerusalem—and allowing Jews to access the Western Wall for the first time since the establishment of the modern state—Israel pushed Jordanian troops completely out of the West Bank and ousted Egypt from the Sinai Peninsula. Israel’s land area more than tripled, and Israel was established as the most powerful military force in the region. At the same time, Israel became an occupying force in the West Bank, populated at the time by nearly 600,000 Palestinians. It also marked the beginning of the official policy of Israeli settlement building in the West Bank, though the area has a long Jewish history dating back to biblical times. Today, more than 400,000 Israelis reside in the West Bank.

Does Israel have an obligation to either maintain territories in the West Bank that have religious/historical significance to the Jewish faith? Or does Israel have an obligation to trade land for peace to the Palestinians? Are there times when you feel conflicted discussing Israel, settlements or peace with friends or family? What do you think the significance of a unified Jerusalem is to the Jewish people and Jewish faith?

Written by Dan Seligson for Israel and Global Jewish Citizenship at Combined Jewish Philanthropies for JewishBoston, March 2017.

Parenting Through a Jewish Lens (PTJL) believes in meeting parents “where they're at,” creating supportive, non-judgmental experiences that help families—both children and adults—make choices informed by Jewish teachings and traditions that feel authentic and meaningful to them. Here are four questions to help every parent on their journey. 

Why does parenting today seem harder than in the past?

In the era of 24/7 social media, parents often feel confused and pressured by the deluge of parenting opinions and advice. How do I prevent and handle temper tantrums? What about sibling fights? How do I parent in the age of social media? How can I fortify my child to bounce back from pitfalls and setbacks? How do I raise my child to be a mensch?

Discipline may also confound parents; with yelling described as the new spanking, parents can feel confused and guilty. Talking about challenges with a friend or a group of supportive parents can help us realize that we are not alone in feeling unsure about our parenting decisions. Many of us find comfort in accepting that we don’t need to—and indeed cannot be—perfect, and aim instead for being “good enough” parents.

Why do kids ask such hard questions?

Young children challenge us with their amazing questions: Where is God? What happens when people die? Why do I have to die? Why don’t we celebrate the same way that my friends and cousins do? Or they may just keep asking, “Why?” Parents want advice on what to say, especially if they don’t consider themselves spiritual or religious. And in interfaith families, questions about practices and beliefs may feel particularly loaded. Honest conversations between parents about these tough queries can be hard to come by, even for parents who are affiliated with a congregation or a Jewish day school. Parents can benefit from processing their own concerns with other thoughtful adults. Having a chance to figure out their views and discern their values before the hard questions come up can be extremely valuable.

Does parenting get easier as your children get older?

It gets…different. Parents of tweens and teens need support too, just in a different way. According to a recent study, mothers of middle school-age students suffer from depression more than mothers of children of any other ages—even more than parents of newborns. With tweens and teens beginning the process of separation, parents struggle with how to respond; like their children, parents undergo their own identity shifts. In Parenting Your Tween Through a Jewish Lens we introduce the concept of tzimtzum, which literally means “contraction.” According to tradition, God contracted to make space for creation. We encourage parents to consider how to consciously “contract” in a way that works for them, and at the same time honors their tweens’ and teens’ growing independence.

How can Jewish tradition inform our parenting today?

The idea that Jewish tradition offers thousands of years of wisdom can comfort today’s parents, who are relieved to be reminded that parenting challenges date back millennia. After all, Adam and Eve didn’t have the easiest job with their kids.

In the first session of PTJL, we explore the “joys and oys” of parenthood—allowing parents to acknowledge their challenges while also exploring traditional Jewish teachings to bring joy into our parenting lives. For one father, the chaos of getting small children fed and out the door in the morning became the unlikely chance to pause and reflect on gratitude. One mother shared that participating in PTJL was like "hitting reset" on her day-to-day life; she created a “Blessing for the Home” that reflected her family’s unique needs and ideals, and helped them keep their core values more present in their home. For other parents, hearing how different families observed Jewish practices helped them be more confident in what they did—or didn’t do—for Shabbat.

Written by Erica Streit-Kaplan of Parenting Through a Jewish Lens at Hebrew College for JewishBoston, March 2019.

At Passover every year, we read the story of our ancestors’ pursuit of liberation from oppression. It’s difficult to tell that story and not feel compelled to help others who are being oppressed. There are numerous social-justice themes in the Exodus story, including hunger, homelessness, oppression and redemption. Oppression still exists in society today, and it’s important as Jews to focus on how to help others and take an active role in our community, country and world.

In what ways are people in our society discriminated against or treated unequally?

What are examples of recent discrimination? What groups are targeted? How can we advocate for more equal treatment? How can we prevent future generations from being victims of discrimination?

Is it our responsibility to support displaced people who have been forced to flee their homes because of violence or persecution?

Deuteronomy says, “You must befriend the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” What does this mean to you when you think about refugees and immigrants today? What could you do to help? Have you spoken to your elected officials about your thoughts on refugees and immigrants?

Why on this night do we invite the hungry and vulnerable to share our meal?

Is this an important part of Passover to you? Psalms 145:16 says, “You give [food] open-handedly, feeding every creature to its heart’s content.” What does this mean in your life? Have you invited or been invited to share a meal with others you don’t know well in the past? If so, how did it feel?

How can we address hunger and homelessness in our community this year?

Is there something you could do in your community to help those who are hungry and homeless? Proverbs teaches: “Speak up for the mute, for the rights of the unfortunate. Speak up, judge righteously, champion the poor and the needy.” What does this mean for you?

Here’s a fifth question, courtesy of American Jewish World Service:

How can we make this year different from all other years?

This year, this Passover, let us recommit to that sacred responsibility to protect the stranger, particularly those vulnerable strangers in faraway places whose suffering is so often ignored. Let us infuse the rituals of the seder with action: When tasting the matzah, the bread of poverty, let us find ways to help the poor and the hungry. When eating the maror, let us commit to help those whose lives are embittered by disease. When dipping to commemorate the blood that protected our ancestors against the angel of death, let us pursue protection for those whose lives are threatened by violence and conflict. When reclining in celebration of our freedom, let us seek opportunities to help those who are oppressed.

With excerpts from American Jewish World Service, Repair the World, Union for Reform Judaism and Religious Action Center.

Written by JCRC’s ReachOut! for JewishBoston JewishBoston, March 2017.

“When Israel was in Egypt land, let my people go”
“Oppressed so hard they could not stand, let my people go”
Go down, Moses, way down in Egypt land
Tell old Pharaoh, let my people go

“Thus saith the Lord,” bold Moses said, “Let my people go”
“If not I’ll smite your firstborn dead, let my people go”
Go down, Moses, way down in Egypt land
Tell old Pharaoh, let my people go

“No more shall they in bondage toil, let my people go”
“Let them come out with Egypt’s spoils, let my people go”
Go down, Moses, way down in Egypt land
Tell old Pharaoh, let my people go

“When people stop this slavery, let my people go”
“Soon may all the earth be free, let my people go”
Go down, Moses, way down in Egypt land
Tell old Pharaoh, let my people go

חַד גַּדְיָא, חַד גַּדְיָא
דְזַבִּין אַבָּא בִּתְרֵי זוּזֵי, 
חַד גַּדְיָא, חַד גַּדְיָא.
Chad gadya, chad gadya
My father bought for two  zuzim
Chad gadya, chad gadya

Then came the cat that ate the kid
My father bought for two  zuzim
Chad gadya, chad gadya

Then came the dog that bit the cat
That ate the kid
My father bought for two  zuzim
Chad gadya, chad gadya

Then came the stick that beat the dog
That bit the cat
That ate the kid
My father bought for two  zuzim
Chad gadya, chad gadya

Then came the fire that burnt the stick
That beat the dog
That bit the cat
That ate the kid
My father bought for two  zuzim
Chad gadya, chad gadya

Then came the water that quenched the fire
That burnt the stick
That beat the dog
That bit the cat
That ate the kid
My father bought for two  zuzim
Chad gadya, chad gadya

Then came the ox that drank the water
That quenched the fire
That burnt the stick
That beat the dog
That bit the cat
That ate the kid
My father bought for two  zuzim
Chad gadya, chad gadya

Then came the butcher that killed the ox
That drank the water
That quenched the fire
That burnt the stick
That beat the dog
That bit the cat
That ate the kid
My father bought for two  zuzim
Chad gadya, chad gadya

Then came the Angel of Death
Who slayed the butcher that killed the ox
That drank the water
That quenched the fire
That burnt the stick
That beat the dog
That bit the cat
That ate the kid
My father bought for two  zuzim
Chad gadya, chad gadya

Then came the Holy One, Blessed Be He
Who destroyed the Angel of Death
Who slayed the butcher that killed the ox
That drank the water
That quenched the fire
That burnt the stick
That beat the dog
That bit the cat
That ate the kid
My father bought for two  zuzim
Chad gadya, chad gadya
Chad gadya, chad gadya