This may take up to thirty seconds.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Welcome!
We start with a song: Hineh Ma Tov
Let's welcome the ancestors and anyone who could not be with us today.
Lets take a few minutes to really arrive, to ground, and connect with ourselves and the earth.
Sing Circle Round for Freedom.
Circle Round for freedom, circle round for peace For all of us imprisoned, circle for release.
Circle for the planet, circle for each soul, For the children of the children, keep the circle whole
Passover is a holiday of community and remembrance. As we reflect on the Jewish Exodus, we hold space for those fleeing persecution, violence, and unstable living conditions today. We acknowledge the ground beneath our feet as occupied Native territory, and mourn the construction of walls built to separate families from one another. This meal is held in memory of not only the Jewish people who were freed from enslavement, but all those who have been marginalized and made to feel unsafe in their place of origin. We understand that oppression is not a relic of the past, and hope that this gathering will invigorate our sense of social obligation as Jews and people of conscience to make the world more welcoming to the stranger.
Written by Justine Orlovsky-Schnitzler
Contributed By Ellie Schindelman
Prayer for Ukraine (and for the people of Russia too)
Hear our prayers, Schekhina,
Hear the prayers of the parents,
the prayers of the children
longing for safety.
Source of life, our Shelter,
Bring peace.
Let it rain down from the heavens like a mighty storm.
Let it wash away all hatred and bloodshed.
Peace, Spirit of the Universe. Please, Schekhina. Amen.
Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech haolam, asher kid'shanu b'mitzvotav, v'tzivanu l'hadlik ner shel Shabbat v'shel Yom Tov.
Blessed are You, Source of Life and Blessings! We honor the mitzvah to sanctify this day by kindling the lights of Shabbat and Passover.
Blessed is the light in the world, Blessed is the light within humanity, Blessed is the light of Shabbat and Passover.
Barukh ha-or ba-olam
Barukh ha-or ba-adam
Barukh ha-ror ba-Pesakh
Sing ‘This Little Light’
*This little light of mine I’m gonna let it shine *Everywhere I go, I’m going to let it shine...
*At the Pesakh table, I’m going to let it shine
I breathe in and take in this light and its warmth and comfort. I breathe out and release the tension that has collected in my body and spirit. I acknowledge this transition into sacred time and the peace and rest it brings. I pray for that peace and rest to linger, past this moment, and to integrate itself into our daily lives. I am thankful for the presence of my loved ones, both those who are here physically and those who are here spiritually. May our hearts be open to recieve this light and may its warmth bring us closer.
Generations ago our ancestors responded to the call for freedom. In every generation, we ought to view ourselves as though we have been personally liberated from slavery. Today that call continues, obligating us to work for an era when all people will be liberated. Let us drink the first cup of wine to celebrate the liberation of peoples from tyranny.
(pour first cup of wine and raise cups)
בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הַגָּפֶן
Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, borei p’ree hagafen.
We praise God, spirit of the universe, who creates the fruit of the vine.
To mark this special and meaningful occasion, we all join together in the words of the Shehecheyanu:
בָרוּךְ אַתָה יְיָ אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם שֶהֶחֱיָנוּ וְקִיְמָנוּ
וְהִגִּיעָנוּ לַזְמַן הַזֶה
Baruch atah, Adonai, eloheinu melech ha’olam, shehecheyanu v’kiy’manu v’higiyanu lazman hazeh.
Blessed are you, Spirit of the universe, who has kept us alive, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this moment.
Drink the wine or juice.
Too often during our daily lives we don’t stop and take the moment to prepare for whatever it is we’re about to do. Let's pause as we wash our hands to consider what we hope to get out of our evening together.
Passover, like many of our holidays, combines the celebration of an event from our Jewish memory with a recognition of the cycles of nature. As we remember the liberation from Egypt, we also recognize the stirrings of spring and rebirth happening in the world around us. The symbols on our table bring together elements of both kinds of celebration.
We now take a vegetable, representing our joy at the dawning of spring after our long, cold winter. Most families use a green vegetable, such as parsley or celery, but some families from Eastern Europe have a tradition of using a boiled potato since greens were hard 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 our ancestors shed as slaves. Before we eat it, we recite a short blessing:
בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הָאֲדָמָה
Baruch Atah Schechina Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, borei p’ree ha-adama.
We praise Schechina, Spirit 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 ground, getting ready for reappearance just when we most needed them.
There are three pieces of matzah stacked on the table. Usually, we would break the middle matzah into two pieces, and hide the larger of the pieces - the afikomen, literally “dessert” in Greek. And then the children would search for it- well, next year!
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.
(Sing together)
הָא לַחְמָא עַנְיָא דִי אֲכָלוּ אַבְהָתָנָא בְּאַרְעָא דְמִצְרָיִם. כָּל דִכְפִין יֵיתֵי וְיֵיכֹל, כָּל דִצְרִיךְ יֵיתֵי וְיִפְסַח. הָשַׁתָּא הָכָא, לְשָׁנָה הַבָּאָה בְּאַרְעָא דְיִשְׂרָאֵל. הָשַׁתָּא עַבְדֵי, לְשָׁנָה הַבָּאָה בְּנֵי חוֹרִין
Ha lachma anya d’achaloo avhatana b’ara d’meetzrayeem. Kol dichfeen yay-tay vi’yachool, kol deetzreech yay-tay viyeesfsach. Hashata hach. Li’shana ha-ba-aa bi’arah di’yeesrael. Hashata av’day, li’shana ha-ba a bi’nay choreen.
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 in need, come and celebrate Passover. Today, we are here. Next year, in the land of Israel. Today, we are slaves. Next year, we will be free.
___________
Written in Aramaic, this statement begins the narration of the Seder by inviting the hungry to our table. Aramaic, Jewish legend has it, is the one language which the angels do not understand. Why then is Ha Lachma spoken in Aramaic? To teach us that where there is hunger, no one should rely upon the angels, no one should pray to the heavens for help. We know the language of the poor, for we were poor in the land of Egypt. We know that we are called to feed the poor and to call them to join our celebration of freedom.
Maggid
The courage to let go of the door, the handle.
The courage to shed the familiar walls whose very
stains and leaks are comfortable as the little moles
of the upper arm; stains that recall a feast,
a child’s naughtiness, a loud blattering storm
that slapped the roof hard, pouring through.
The courage to leave the place whose language you learned
as early as your own, whose customs however dan-
gerous or demeaning, bind you like a halter
you have learned to pull inside, to move your load;
the land fertile with the blood spilled on it;
the roads mapped and annotated for survival.
The courage to walk out of the pain that is known
into the pain that cannot be imagined,
mapless, walking into the wilderness, going
barefoot with a canteen into the desert;
stuffed in the stinking hold of a rotting ship
sailing off the map into dragons’ mouths,
Cathay, India, Siberia, goldeneh medina2
leaving bodies by the way like abandoned treasure.
So they walked out of Egypt.3 So they bribed their way
out of Russia under loads of straw; so they steamed
out of the bloody smoking charnelhouse of Europe
on overloaded freighters forbidden all ports—
out of pain into death or freedom or a different
painful dignity, into squalor and politics.
We Jews are all born of wanderers, with shoes
under our pillows and a memory of blood that is ours
raining down. We honor only those Jews who changed
tonight, those who chose the desert over bondage,
who walked into the strange and became strangers
and gave birth to children who could look down
on them standing on their shoulders for having
been slaves. We honor those who let go of every-
thing but freedom, who ran, who revolted, who fought,
who became other by saving themselves.
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.
As all good term papers do, we start with the main idea:
ּעֲבָדִים הָיִינוּ הָיִינו. עַתָּה בְּנֵי חוֹרִין
Avadim hayinu hayinu. Ata b’nei chorin.
We were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt. Now we are free.
We were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt, and God took us from there with a strong hand and outstretched arm. Had God not brought our ancestors out of Egypt, then even today we and our children and our grandchildren would still be slaves. Even if we were all wise, knowledgeable scholars and Torah experts, we would still be obligated to tell the story of the exodus from Egypt.
At Passover each year, we read the story of our ancestors’ pursuit of liberation from oppression. When confronting this history, how do we answer our children or our contacts when they ask us how to pursue justice in our time?
WHAT DOES THE REVOLUTIONARY CHILD ASK?
“The Torah tells me, ‘Justice, justice you shall pursue,’ but how can I pursue justice?”
What would you say?
WHAT DOES THE SKEPTICAL CHILD ASK?
“How can I solve problems of such enormity?”
What would you say?
WHAT DOES THE INDIFFERENT CHILD SAY?
“It’s not my responsibility.”
What would you say?
AND THE UNINFORMED CHILD WHO DOES NOT KNOW HOW TO ASK...
What would you say?
Before we tell the Passover story, let's sing a traditional spiritual.
Let My People Go
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 to Egypt land
Tell old Pharaoh To let my people go!
And God told Moses what to do
Let my people go!
To lead the children of Israel through
Let my people go!
Go down Moses,
Way down to Egypt land
Tell old Pharaoh
To let my people go!
Now is when we answer these questions with a little story.
-
The Israelite community emerged in Egypt as a result of Joseph, son of Jacob. As an interpreter of the Pharaoh’s dreams, he was able to predict oncoming feasts and famines, saving the Egyptians from starvation. As a result, his family was invited to settle in Egypt, and they flourished, becoming known as the Israelites, or the descendants of Jacob (also known as Israel, which means “wrestling with God”).
-
Eventually, a new Pharaoh came to power who did not remember Joseph or what he had done for Egypt. All he knew was that the Israelites were too numerous, and that threatened him, as he feared that these outsiders would rise up against him. As a result, he enslaved the Israelites, who were forced to build monuments. The worst decree of all- all Israelite baby boys were ordered to be drowned in the Nile.
-
One Israelite woman, Yocheved, gave birth to a baby boy. She could not bear to drown him, so she hid him in her home. Eventually, however, his cries became too loud, so she put him in a basket and placed him in the Nile. His sister, Miriam, watched over him until the Pharaoh’s daughter found the basket and took him in to be raised, naming him Moses, or “he who was drawn from the water.”
-
Miriam approached Pharaoh’s daughter, telling her that she could find her a wet nurse- an Israelite woman named Yocheved! Thus, Moses was allowed to be raised in his own home and learn about his identity until he was older. Then, he was given back to the Pharoah’s daughter, who raised him like a son.
-
Moses grew up in luxury in the palace, but he could not ignore the suffering of his people forever. One day, he left the palace and saw an Egyptian slavemaster beating an Israelite slave, which infuriated him so much that he killed the slave master. Horrified at what he’d done, Moses fled Egypt for the land of Midian.
-
One day, Moses came across a bush that, although burning, was not consumed by the fire. From this bush he heard God’s voice telling him to return to Egypt and free the Israelites from slavery. Moses objected, as he had a speech impediment and doubted his abilities. However, he eventually gave in on the conditions that God will help and guide him the whole way and that his brother Aaron be his spokesman.
Go tell it on the mountain, over the hill and everywhere, Go tell it on the mountain, to let My people go.
Who's that yonder dressed in red, let My people go
Must be the children that Moses led, let My people go
Who's that yonder dressed in red,
Must be the children that Moses led
Go tell it on the mountain, to let My people go.
Who's that yonder dressed in white, let My people go
Must be the children of the Israelite, let My people go
Who's that yonder dressed in white,
Must be the children of the Israelite
Go tell it on the mountain, to let My people go
On Passover, Jews are commanded to tell the story of the Exodus and to see ourselves as having lived through that story, so that we may better learn how to live our lives today. The stories we tell our children shape what they believe to be possible—which is why at Passover, we must tell the stories of the women who played a crucial role in the Exodus narrative.
In Exodus, God has many partners, first among them, five brave women.
There is Yocheved, Moses’ mother, and Shifra and Puah, the famous midwives. Each defies Pharaoh’s decree to kill the Israelite baby boys. And there is Miriam, Moses’ sister.
Finally, there is Pharaoh’s daughter Batya, who defies her own father and plucks baby Moses out of the Nile. The Midrash reminds us that Batya knew exactly what she doing:
When Pharaoh’s daughter’s handmaidens saw that she intended to rescue Moses, they attempted to dissuade her, and persuade her to heed her father. But transgress she did.
These women had a vision leading out of the darkness shrouding their world. They were women of action, prepared to defy authority to make their vision a reality bathed in the light of the day.
Retelling the heroic stories of Yocheved, Shifra, Puah, Miriam and Batya reminds our daughters that they can carry forward the tradition those intrepid women launched.
The Passover story recalls to all of us that with vision and action we can join hands with others, kindling lights along paths leading out of the darkness.
Sadly, there is no archaeological evidence of the story itself, in either Egypt or Sinai.The bible account is internally inconsistent and is clearly a mixture of several traditions and myths. That does not mean that there aren't kernels of truth in it, but it is not clear how many events are covered by the Exodus story and what times those various events took place, or if any of the characters involved were real people. What is clear is that the story was written LONG after the events it claims to describe took place, which is common for ancient legends.
It seems that the story of the exodus was one of the founding texts of the Northern Kingdom (Israel) and that it came to Judah after the destruction of Israel. It is possible that in the later days of Judah, a time of approaching confrontation with Egypt, the story expressed hope, showing a clash with mighty Egypt of the distant past, in which the Children of Israel prevailed. Later the story held a message of hope for those exiled in Babylon, that it was possible to overcome exile, cross a desert and return to the land of the forefathers. Above all, the story of Exodus has been an eternal metaphor for escaping slavery for freedom, in Jewish and other traditions.
EXODUS FROM COVID
One of the things that’ll make this Passover (5782/2022) different, is the Exodus from Covid. Ah, you might say, Covid isn’t totally eradicated yet! That helps the analogy, because the Exodus from Egypt wasn’t finalized when they left. The Jews still had residual Egypt, traces of it, variations you might say, that took 49 Days of semi-isolation (spiritual preparation & growth) in the Wilderness, leading up to Sinai.
Indeed, as the Alter Rebbe insists, we are still on that journey, continuing to exit & transcend our personal & collective Egypts, Passing-Over our limitations & boundaries (which share the same Hebrew root word as Egypt) shedding the viral load of exile, & working our way, step by step, mitzvah by mitzvah, and Passover by Passover, towards the ultimate Redemption.
Many Egyptians perished, and their suffering was great. Each time a plague appeared, Pharaoh agreed to let the Jews go. But each time the plague vanished, Pharaoh relented. These are the ten plagues which God brought down on the Egyptians:
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
Finally, amidst great sorrowing over the death of his first-born, Pharaoh ordered Moses to take his people out of the land. And Moses did, and the people arose from the midst of their oppressors, and fled from their bondage. As we rejoice at our deliverance from slavery, we acknowledge that our freedom was hard-earned. We regret that our freedom came at the cost of the Egyptians’ suffering, for we are all human beings.
בְּכָל־דּוֹר וָדוֹר חַיָּב אָדָם לִרְאוֹת אֶת־עַצְמוֹ, כְּאִלּוּ הוּא יָצָא מִמִּצְרָֽיִם
B’chol dor vador chayav adam lirot et-atzmo, k’ilu hu yatzav 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 God, Ruler of Everything, who redeemed us and our ancestors from Egypt, 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 God, Ruler of Everything, who creates the fruit of the vine.
Drink the second glass of wine!
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!
Dai, da-ye-nu (x8)
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!
Dai, da-ye-nu (x8)
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!
Dai, da-ye-nu (x8)…
Had he brought all of us out from Egypt, then it would have been enough.
Had he judged just the Egyptians, not their idols, then it would have been enough.
Had he destroyed all the idols, and not smitten their first-born, then it would have been enough…
A dayenu for our times
https://www.ritualwell.org/ritual/dayeinu-our-time
Dayeinu is the most well-known Passover song, probably because of its simple refrain and rollicking tune. But it actually makes no sense. Would it really be enough if God had taken us out of Egypt but had not divided the sea for us? Wouldn’t the pursuing Egyptians have re-enslaved us? Would it really have been enough for God to have brought us to Mount Sinai but hadn’t given us the Torah? What would have been the point?
Dayeinu is actually suggesting an important spiritual principle of enough-ness. We live our lives with ambitions and hopes. Some are fulfilled. Some never happen. With the passage of time, some fade away or are lost. Even as we mourn the losses, we are to remember the blessings that we have. Dayenu is not just striving for an acceptance of what we have. It is more than not being greedy or envious. It is coming to a sense of sufficiency—enough-ness.
Host: Now for the symbolic eating. Matzoh is a symbol of the simple bread of poverty. For one week each year, matzoh becomes the symbol of those days when people had little, reminding us that our lives are much more than the material things we have our own.
Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu al achilat matzah.
Blessed are You God, Spirit of the universe, who made us holy through obligations, commanding us to eat matzoh.
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.
.
Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu al achilat maror.
Everyone together: We praise God, Queen of the universe, who made us holy by asking us to eat bitter herbs.
The sage Hillel began the tradition of eating a sandwich of bitter maror and sweet charoset between two pieces of matzah. For the literal-minded, this fulfills the letter of the commandment to eat these things together. For those who prefer symbolism, we are reminded that bitterness and sweetness come side by side in life.
This use of charoset also recalls its connection to the bricks and mortar made by enslaved Jews in Egypt. Though the charoset is sweet, the act of spreading it on the matzah takes us for a moment to the life of a laborer spreading mortar with a trowel, not at a festival of liberation but over and over again under the hot sun without a break. Then, as we eat the sandwich, we fast-forward to the time of Hillel, in 100 BCE when the Temple still stood. We may even have a dizzying moment of imagining being Hillel as he imagines being enslaved in Egypt. Feel the layers of nearly six thousand years of Jewish history all atop one another and mingled together, like the charoset and maror layered over the matzah.
Pete Seeger Beautiful version of "Ode to Joe" a Peace song for all people.
Build the road of peace before us,
Build it wide and deep and long
Speed the slow & remind the eager,
Help the weak and guide the strong.
None shall push aside another,
None shall let another fall
Walk with me, or my sisters and brothers,
All for one and one for all
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.
The story has always been told of a miraculous well of living water which has accompanied the Jewish people since the world was spoken into being. The well comes and goes, as it is needed, and as we remember, forget, and remember again how to call it to us. In the time of the exodus from Mitzrayim, the well came to Miriam, in honor of her courage and action, and stayed with the Jews as they wandered the desert. Upon Miriam’s death, the well again disappeared.
With this ritual of Miriam’s cup, we honor all Jewish women, transgender, genderqueer, intersex people whose histories have been erased. We commit ourselves to transforming all of our cultures into loving welcoming spaces for people of all genders and sexes.
Tonight we remember Miriam and ask: Who on own journey has been a way-station for us? Who has encouraged our thirst for knowledge? Who sings with joy at our accomplishments?
Let us share an act of courage or resistance you have seen from another, and pour water into Miriam's cup until it overflows. (popcorn style)
|
|
|||||
By the rivers of Babylon,
By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down
Ye-eah we wept, when we remembered Zion
When the wicked carried us away in captivity
Required from us a song, now how shall we sing
The Lord's song in a strange land
Let the words of our mouth and the meditations of our heart
Be acceptable in thy sight here tonight
By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, Ye-eah we wept, when we remembered Zion
Your task is not to seek love
But merely to seek and find all the barriers
That you have built against it.
The same can be said of freedom; we build barriers against it, barriers born of fear-fear of death, fear of not having enough, fear of not being enough, fear of being happy. An antidote to these fears is gratefulness; when we cultivate our awareness of life as a gift freely given, instead of our enslavement to greed we learn the liberating power of gratitude; we recognize our thankfulness for who we are rather than being trapped by the compulsion to be perfect; rather than the fear of and the fixation on tomorrow, we feel the joy of the moment; we discover the capacity to shed the chains of paralyzing guilt and embrace instead the redeeming possibilities of gratefulness as the impetus for doing the good and the compassionate in life.
Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos into order, and confusion into clarity. It turns problems into gifts, failures into success, the unexpected into perfect timing, and mistakes into important events. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today and creates a vision for tomorrow.
More Sacred Questions for our seder tonight: (for our dinner conversation)
- What miracles have you witnessed this year?
- What freedoms are you grateful for?
- Do you believe we can eventually eradicate wars, poverty, and starvation?
- Passover can be viewed as an opportunity for a spring cleaning for the soul. How do you want to cleanse your life this Passover?
- What is one wild hope and vision for wholeness you have for the world this time, next year? ..
