The Exodus: A Personal Coming Out, In Every Generation

“In our tradition leaving Egypt wasn’t an historical event alone. In our tradition, it was a personal and existential leaving as well.

"בְּכָל דּוֹר וָדוֹר חַיָּב אָדָם לִרְאוֹת אֶת עַצְמוֹ\עַצְמָהּ כְאִלּוּ הוּא יָצָא\ה מִמִּצְרַיִם”
(In every generation a person must regard themselves as though they personally had gone out of Egypt)

Whenever we leave a narrow place, a place of constriction, painful servitude, a place where we are not authentically who we are, that leap taking, that transitioning, is an exodus. A freedom walk.

Rabbi David Ingber, Romemu

The tradition teaches us, that not only is coming out something that is acceptable in our tradition, but it is something to admire, to strive for, and to some extend, we have an obligation in every generation to take that leap, and Come Out!

הִגָּלֶה נָא וּפְרוֹס חֲבִיבִי עָלַי אֶת סֻכַּת שְׁלוֹמֶךָ

Please, be revealed and spread the covering, beloved, Upon me, the shelter of your tranquility.

Yedid Nefesh - ידיד נפש

As we start the evening, let's keep this in mind. Let us understand that resistance in our tradition isn't merely acceptable, but an obligation. It is something that we have learned through thousands of years, and resistance is what gave us the power to overcome relentless oppression.

Orange - The orange on the Seder plate has come to symbolize inclusion in modern day Judaism for those who were traditionally not seen as full participants or leaders in Jewish life and traditions, especially women and the lgbt+ community. Initially, and for some still, people see the orange as originating as a response to sexism and exclusion of women. The tale was that a man once said that women don’t belong leading aspects of worship in Judaism by saying “A woman on the bimah is like an orange on the Seder plate.” (The bimah is a podium where people stand to read from the “Torah”). Some responded by celebrating the orange, by placing it in the center the Seder plate showing that since women belonged on the bima, so must an orange on the Seder plate.

Jewish celebrations usually include wine as a symbol of joy.

Wine sanctifies an occasion and makes it holy.

During the Passover Seder we drink four cups of wine, why four?

In the Book of Exodus, God convinced the Jews to leave Egypt using four statements:

I shall take you out
I shall rescue you
I shall redeem you
I shall bring you

We toast each of these statements with a cup of wine.

Pour and raise your first cup of wine/grape juice. This cup is dedicated to the renewal of spring, to the renewal of ourselves.

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 your first cup of wine/grape juice!

In washing our hands, we also think of those who don't get to share in the basic human right of abundant, clean water

of people deprived of water by the weather in Somalia, in India, in Texas

and those deprived of water by human action in places like Flint, Michigan

as well as those whose homes have been ravaged by wind and water in Colombia, in California, and here in New Jersey.

We wash our hands and accept our responsibilities to those threatened by the presence and absence of water

and pray that those with the human power to change things do not wash their hands of what the world needs them to correct.

The next item on our plate is the karpas: the vegetable representing spring. Many families use a green leafy vegetable because the green makes people think about freshness, coming alive, being healthy- all the wonderful things that go along with freedom. But when families do not have enough resources they can't always get fresh fruits and vegetables. When our family lived in Eastern Europe it was also difficult to get fresh green vegetables, so our tradition is to use what those ancestors ate instead: potatoes. When we say the blessing we feel blessed that all of us here can eat fresh and healthy vegetables every day, and we dip in the saltwater to not only remember the tears our people shed as slaves, but also to remember all of the children who still do not have access to fresh, green vegetables.

The top Matzoh

And bottom Matzoh are,

it is said,

Pesach substitutes

For the two loaves of challah on Shabbat,

Supposedly a reminder

Of the two portions of manna

They received  in the dessert

Every Friday before Shabbat.

 

But the middle matza?!

Ah,

That's for the seder.

We break it in half

And call it the bread of affliction,

Just like the unleavened bread

We ate as we fled slavery

 

Matza Number Two,

The afflicted matza,

We break it in half

And separate ourselves from joy

So we don't forget the pain

That has been ours.

We break it in half

And separate ourselves from the joy

So we can remember the pain

Of others.

All this pain

Lives in this first half of the afflicted matzoh

And we eat this half now,

So that we do not forget that we were slaves

So that we do not enslave others.

 

But--

We separate the second half of the afflicted matza

(The Afikomen)

From all that hurt

So that we don't forget the  joy that can follow the sorrow.

So that we don't forget the times that we changed things for the better.

And after the meal we will search for that happiness

And we will find it.

And then we eat the Afikomen together

So we don't forget that it is good to be alive

 And we are obligated to share that joy.

Blessed One-ness, we are so grateful for the obligations to remember pain and share joy.

Amen

 

By Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Rabbi Lauren Holzblatt

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.

The Book of Exodus, much like the Book of Genesis, opens in pervasive darkness. Genesis describes the earth as “unformed and void, with darkness over the surface of the deep.”1 In Exodus, darkness attends the accession of a new Pharaoh who feared the Israelites and so enslaved them. God alone lights the way out of the darkness in Genesis. But 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, about whom the following midrash is taught:

[When Miriam’s only brother was Aaron] she prophesied… “my mother is destined to bear a son who will save Israel.” When [Moses] was born the whole house… filled with light[.] [Miriam’s] father arose and kissed her on the head, saying, “My daughter, your prophecy has been fulfilled.” But when they threw [Moses] into the river her father tapped her on the head saying, “Daughter, where is your prophecy?” So it is written, “And [Miriam] stood afar off to know what would be[come of] the latter part of her prophecy.”2

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. They said to her: “Our mistress, it is the way of the world that when a king issues a decree, it is not heeded by the entire world, but his children and the members of his household do observe it, and you wish to transgress your father’s decree?”3

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 with vision and the courage to act, they can carry forward the tradition those intrepid women launched.

While there is much light in today’s world, there remains in our universe disheartening darkness, inhumanity spawned by ignorance and hate. We see horrific examples in the Middle East, parts of Africa, and the Ukraine. The Passover story recalls to all of us—women and men—that with vision and action we can join hands with others of like mind, kindling lights along paths leading out of the terrifying darkness.

1 Genesis 1:2 2 Babylonian Talmud, Megillah 14a 3 Babylonian Talmud, Sotah 12b 

Ruth Bader Ginsburg is a Justice of the United States Supreme Court. Appointed by President William Jefferson Clinton in 1993, she is known as a strong voice for gender equality, the rights of workers, and separation between church and state.

Rabbi Lauren Holtzblatt is a rabbi at Adas Israel Congregation in Washington, D.C.. She is co-creator of two nationally recognized community engagement projects—MakomDC and the Jewish Mindfulness Center of Washington.

Image Credit: Time Magazine https://time.com/3823889/ruth-bader-ginsburg-2015-time-100/

Ma nishtanah halailah hazeh mikol haleilot?

Why is this night different from all other nights?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In recounting our story, let us consider that we tell it to four children, one wise, one simple, one wicked and one innocent.

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

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

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

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

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

Once upon a time, during a famine our ancestor Jacob and his family fled to Egypt where food was plentiful. His son Joseph had risen to high position in Pharaoh’s court, and our people were well-respected and well-regarded, secure in the power structure of the time.

Generations passed and our people remained in Egypt. In time, a new Pharaoh ascended to the throne. He found our difference threatening, and ordered our people enslaved. In fear of rebellion, Pharaoh decreed that all Hebrew baby boys be killed. Two midwives named Shifrah and Puah defied his orders.  Through their courage, a boy survived; midrash tells us he was radiant with light. Fearing for his safety, his family placed him in a basket and he floated down the Nile. He was found, and adopted, by Pharaoh’s daughter, who named him Moses because she drew him forth from the water.  Thanks to Moses' sister Miriam, Pharaoh's daughter hired their mother, Yocheved, as his wet-nurse. Thus he survived to adulthood, and was raised as Prince of Egypt.

Although a child of privilege, as he grew he became aware of the slaves who worked in the brickyards of his father. When he saw an overseer mistreat a slave, Moses struck the overseer and killed him. Fearing retribution, he set out across the Sinai alone. God spoke to him from a burning bush, which though it flamed was not consumed. The Voice called him to lead the Hebrew people to freedom. Moses argued with God, pleading inadequacy, but God disagreed. Sometimes our responsibilities choose us.

Moses returned to Egypt and went to Pharaoh to argue the injustice of slavery. He gave Pharaoh a mandate which resounds through history: Let my people go. Pharaoh refused, and Moses warned him that Mighty God would strike the Egyptian people. These threats were not idle; ten terrible plagues were unleashed upon the Egyptians. Only when his nation lay in ruins did Pharaoh agree to our liberation.

Fearful that Pharaoh would change his mind, our people fled, not waiting for their bread dough to rise.  Our people did not leave Egypt alone; a “mixed multitude” went with them. From this we learn that liberation is not for us alone, but for all the nations of the earth. Even Pharaoh’s daughter came with us.

Pharaoh’s army followed us to the Sea of Reeds. We plunged into the waters. Only when we had gone as far as we could did the waters part for us. We mourn, even now, that Pharaoh’s army drowned: our liberation is bittersweet because people died in our pursuit. To this day we relive our liberation, that we may not become complacent, that we may always rejoice in our freedom.

When Israel was in Egypt land

Let my people go

Oppressed do hard they could not stand

Let my people go

Chorus:

Go down, Moses, way down in Egypt land

Tell old Pharaoh to let my people go

"Thus said the lord," bold Moses said

Let my people go

"If not I'll smite your first-born dead"

Let my people go

Chorus


 

TELLING THE EXODUS STORY

Continue with the telling of the exodus story, either with the following skit or written story...

Leader:
Let us all refill our cups.

[Take turns reading. Each person is invited to read a grouped set of lines - or to pass.]

Tonight we drink four cups of the fruit of the vine.
There are many explanations for this custom.
They may be seen as symbols of various things:
the four corners of the earth, for freedom must live everywhere;
the four seasons of the year, for freedom's cycle must last through all the seasons;
or the four matriarchs: Sarah, Rebecca, Leah, and Rachel.

A full cup of wine symbolizes complete happiness.
The triumph of Passover is diminished by the sacrifice of many human lives
when ten plagues were visited upon the people of Egypt.
In the story, the plagues that befell the Egyptians resulted from the decisions of tyrants,
but the greatest suffering occurred among those who had no choice but to follow.

It is fitting that we mourn their loss of life, and express our sorrow over their suffering.
For as Jews and as Humanists we cannot take joy in the suffering of others.
Therefore, let us diminish the wine in our cups
as we recall the ten plagues that befell the Egyptian people.

Leader:

As we recite the name of each plague, in English and then in Hebrew,
please dip a finger in your wine and then touch your plate to remove the drop.

Everyone:

Blood - Dam (Dahm)
Frogs - Ts'phardea (Ts'phar-DEH-ah)
Gnats - Kinim (Kih-NEEM)
Flies - Arov (Ah-ROV)
Cattle Disease - Dever (DEH-vehr)
Boils - Sh'hin (Sh'-KHEEN)
Hail - Barad (Bah-RAHD)
Locusts - `Arbeh (Ar-BEH)
Darkness - Hoshekh (KHO-shekh)
Death of the Firstborn - Makkat B'khorot (Ma-katB'kho-ROT) 

[Take turns reading. Each person is invited to read a grouped set of lines - or to pass.]

In the same spirit, our celebration today also is shadowed
by our awareness of continuing sorrow and oppression in all parts of the world.
Ancient plagues are mirrored in modern tragedies.

In our own time, as in ancient Egypt, ordinary people suffer and die
as a result of the actions of the tyrants who rule over them.
While we may rejoice in the defeat of tyrants in our own time,
we must also express our sorrow at the suffering of the many innocent people
who had little or no choice but to follow.

Leader:

As the pain of others diminishes our joys,
let us once more diminish the ceremonial drink of our festival
as we together recite the names of these modern plagues:

Hunger
War
Tyranny
Greed
Bigotry
Injustice
Poverty
Ignorance
Pollution of the Earth Indifference to Suffering

Leader:
Let us sing a song expressing our hope for a better world. 

The plagues and our subsequent redemption from Egypt are but one example of the care God has shown for us in our history. Had God but done any one of these kindnesses, it would have been enough – dayeinu.

Our hands were touched by this water earlier during tonight's seder, but this time is different. This is a deeper step than that. This act of washing our hands is accompanied by a blessing, for in this moment we feel our People's story more viscerally, having just retold it during Maggid. Now, having re-experienced the majesty of the Jewish journey from degradation to dignity, we raise our hands in holiness, remembering once again that our liberation is bound up in everyone else's. Each step we take together with others towards liberation is blessing, and so we recite: 

                                                         --Rabbi Menachem Creditor, Congregation Netivot Shalom, Berkeley, CA

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha’olam, asher kidshanu bemitvotav vetzivanu al netilat yadayim.

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה' אֱלֹֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶך הָעוֹלָם אֲשֶׁר קִדְּשָׁנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתָיו וְצִוָּנוּ עַל נְטִילַת יָדָיִּם.

Blessed are You ETERNAL our God, Master of time and space, who has sanctified us with commandments and instructed us regarding lifting up our hands.

Reader

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

Cong.

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

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

We praise G-d, Ruler of Everything, who brings bread from the land.

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

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

We praise G-d, Ruler of Everything, who made us holy through obligations, commanding us to eat matzah.

Reader

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

After performing most of the central mitzvot of the evening (telling the story of the Exodus eating matza and maror, etc.) and just before we are about to enjoy the festive holiday meal, the haggadah structures a moment in which we symbolically repeat the practice of Hillel the Elder who would “wrap” his portion of the paschal offering with matza and maror and eat it as a type of sandwich, in literal fulfillment of the verse “it shall be eaten on matzot and maror”. We too prepare a combination of matza and maror (and haroset) and eat in remembrance of this practice and of the Pesach tradition during the time when the Temple still stood.

Let us pause a moment to consider the character of Hillel, a central and formative personality within the pantheon of Rabbinic figures, and to consider why, perhaps, the haggadah asks us to spend a moment recreating Hillel’s personal practice of eating the Pesach sacrifice.

Hillel, founder of the great and influential Beit Hillel, is well known for his personal qualities of tolerance, humility and pursuit of peace. Many of the tales of Hillel and his teachings reflect this characterization. This is expressed in famous citations such as: “Hillel says: Be of the disciples of Aaron, loving peace and pursuing peace, loving your fellow creatures and drawing them near to the law.” The quality of being a rodef shalom (pursuer of peace) requires the ability to recognize the value of different perspectives and the skill of unifying conflicting truths into a harmonious whole. It requires the recognition that single individuals perceive only a portion of the complete truth. Hillel says: “If I am not for myself, who is for me? And when I am for myself, what am I? And if not now, when?"

The Rabbis of the Talmudic world joined Hillel in this understanding, promoting this view and ruling that Halakha (Jewish law) should follow Beit Hillel as “…they were kindly and modest, they studied their own rulings and those of Beit Shammai (Hillel’s halakhic opponent), and were even “...so [humble] as to mention the actions of Beit Shammai before their own." Appropriately, the haggadah depicts Hillel as requiring the consumption of the Pesach sacrifice the food of redemption, through an act of combining − the korekh. Only the harmonious merging of a variety of components produces the true redemptive experience

Leah Rosenthal teaches Talmud

Eating the meal! | shulchan oreich | שֻׁלְחָן עוֹרֵךְ

Enjoy! And as you eat, take the opportunity to share stories of deliverance from your narrow places. Don't shy away from discussion of the difficult questions of what's required to advance the journey to freedom for all people. When you’re done we’ve got a little more seder to go, including final two cups of wine!

"Tzafun" means "hidden."  When we hunt for the afikomen we discover something that is hidden, sometimes in plain sight. The classical interpretation is that by leaving the tzafun until late in the seder, the children will be incented to pay attention.  Once found, we loosely wrap the matzah to remind us that we packed in haste.

As adults, however, tzafun tells us to listen more carefully to Uncle Ziemel and remember the search - what was hidden and now discovered?  What -isms are hidden - racism, sexism, ageism, classism -- and best left behind as we are spiritually redeemed from Egypt? 

In Jane Leavy's book "Last Boy," her biography of Yankees star and her childhood hero Mickey Mantle, she distinguishes memory and memorabilia.  "Memorabilia is a goal, a get...memory is a process, albeit a faulty one."  When we are focused on the memorabilia, the next object, we are enslaved to the pursuit of things.  The Afikomen is a literal "get", but it's a B plot to the main story that is the result of superimposing thousands of years of memories. 

Refill everyone’s wine glass.

We now say grace after the meal, thanking God for the food we’ve eaten.

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech haolam,
hazan et haolam kulo b'tuvo, b'chein b'chesed uv'rachamim.
Hu notein lechem l'chol basar ki l'olam chasdo.
Uv'tuvo hagadol tamid lo chasar lanu,
v'al yechsar lanu, mazon l'olam va-ed,
baavur sh'mo hagadol.
Ki hu El zan um'farneis lakol umeitiv lakol,
umeichin mazon l'chol b'riyotav asher bara.
Baruch atah Adonai, hazan et hakol.

Sovereign God of the universe, we praise You: Your goodness sustains the world. You are the God of grace, love, and compassion, the Source of bread for all who live; for Your love is everlasting. In Your great goodness we need never lack for food; You provide food enough for all. We praise You, O God, Source of food for all who live.

The Third Glass of Wine

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

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הַגָּפֶן

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

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

Drink the third glass of wine!

Also on the table is a cup of wine left untouched for Elijah the prophet, Eliahu HaNavi. According to Jewish tradition, the Prophet Elijah was a brave man who denounced the slavery and wickedness, and he will return one day to lead everyone to peace and freedom. Jewish legends recall the mystical appearance of Elijah in times of trouble, to promise relief and redemption, to lift downcast spirits and to plant hope in the hearts of the downtrodden.

It is customary during the Passover Seder to open the door of the house for Elijah, in the hope that the age of universal peace may soon be at hand. We open the door to peace knowing that Elijah's task is really our own. Only when we have made a world where nation shall not lift up sword against nation, where justice is universal, and where each person is free, will the dream of peace be real. As we confront the injustice of this world, may we be like Elijah, who in defense of justice, spoke truth to power.

We are going to conclude our dinner tonight with a celebratory toast - a l’chaim.

Rather than filling our own cup tonight, though, and focusing on us as individuals, let’s fill someone else’s cup and recognize that, as a family and group of friends, we have the resources to help each other and those in our community if we are willing to share our resources and collaborate – whether those resources are time, money, skills, or any of the other gifts we bring to one another.

Many of us around the table may already share our resources in different ways - volunteering in our communities, providing pro bono services, donating to charities, or by advocating or lobbying officials. For others we may still be exploring the ways we’re hoping to share our resources and are looking for outlets to do so.

We are now going to fill our 4th cup of wine and I want to invite you to fill someone else’s cup instead of your own. As you fill someone else’s cup, let’s share with each other our answer to the following:

How can I help in changing the world?

All night long we have been reliving the story of the Exodus, striving to awaken our present consciousness to redemption. Moments ago the wave of the past finally broke over us, sweeping away the boundary between then and now as we burst into the praises of Hallel. Redemption was transformed from a story about our ancestors into the here and now and given life through our song. But in the midst of our excitement, a question arises. The past is gone forever, and as deep as our present joy may be, it is fleeting. Where is this feeling of freedom taking us?

Now is the time to know that our service tonight has found favor in the eyes of the Redeemer. Nirtzah is not a prayer which attempts to fix what was, or even a joyful offering to God of what has just come to be. Nirtzah is an assertion of hope. It is the confidence that the true fruit of our service tonight will be a redeemed future. The power of Nirtzah lies in our knowledge that we have succeeded in telling a story of our past which now infuses our present with joy. And that our rejoicing in freedom has planted within us the seeds of our future. May our present joy become the fertile ground out of which a truly redeemed future will grow − l’shana haba’ah b’Yerushalayim habenuyah! Next year in the Jerusalem of which we dream!

Each verse should be read my a Seder participant.  

1. An only kid! An only kid,
My father bought
For two zuzim. 
An only kid! An only kid!

2. Then came the cat
And ate the kid
My father bought For two zuzim.
An only kid! An only kid!

3. Then came the dog
And bit the cat
That ate the kid
My father bought
For two zuzim.
An only kid! An only kid! 

4. Then came the stick
And beat the dog
That bit the cat
That ate the kid
My father bought For two zuzim.
An only kid! An only kid!

5. Then came the fire
And burned the stick
That beat the dog
That bit the cat
That ate the kid
My father bought
For two zuzim.
An only kid! An only kid!

6. Then came the water
And quenched the fire
That burned the stick
That beat the dog
That bit the cat
That ate the kid
My father bought For two zuzim.
An only kid! An only kid! 

7. Then came the ox
And drank the water
That quenched the fire
That burned the stick
That beat the dog
That bit the cat
That ate the kid
My father bought
For two zuzim.
An only kid! An only kid!

8. Then came the butcher
And killed the ox
That drank the water
That quenched the fire
That burned the stick
That beat the dog
That bit the cat
That ate the kid
My father bought
For two zuzim.
An only kid! An only kid!

9. Then came the angel of death
And slew the butcher
That killed the ox 
That drank the water
That quenched the fire
That burned the stick
That beat the dog
That bit the cat
That ate the kid
My father bought
For two zuzim.
An only kid! An only kid!

10. Then came the Holy One, blest be He!
And destroyed the angel of death
That slew the butcher
That killed the ox
That drank the water
That quenched the fire
That burned the stick
That beat the dog
That bit the cat
That ate the kid
My father bought
For two zuzim.
An only kid! An only kid!

In a moment, our Seder will be complete. However, we remember that working against oppression in the world is our never-ending responsibility. We recommit ourselves to the vision of a world filled with peace and justice for all. We work for a world where "nation shall not lift-up sword against nation nor study war anymore." We work for a world where people are not treated differently because of their race, their religion, their gender, their age, their marital status, their skin color, the people they love, their profession or their politics. We work for a world that affirms the inherent worth and dignity of every person on our planet and assures basic human rights for everyone, everywhere. Like Nachshon standing at the shore of the Red Sea, we are not waiting for a miracle but rather proceeding with faith that G-d will support us and give us the strength and resolve to work together to heal the world.

We close our Seder by saying, "L'Shanah Haba'ah B'Yerushalyim", which means "Next Year in Jerusalem." For centuries, this declaration expressed the Jewish people's goal to return to our homeland. Even after the founding of the State of Israel in 1948, these words still resonate with us. We all have our own personal aspirations and dreams that we are striving for. As we conclude our Seder, may we have the strength and the will to continue working toward our personal Jerusalem and toward a world where all people will live in shalom -- peace, safety and freedom.