Welcome to our Passover seder. Together we celebrate the festival of liberation of the Jewish people, who are linked throughout history with all peoples in the passion for justice and human liberty.

As we retell this ancient story, let us remind ourselves of those people around the world who are living this story today, struggling for basic human rights. Let us celebrate our freedom and strengthen ourselves to join the fight against injustice wherever it exists. For as long as one person is oppressed, none of us are free.

For it is said: Every person, in every generation, must regard his or her self as having been personally freed from bondage in Mitzrayim, the Hebrew name of ancient Egypt and a metaphor for a time of enslavement. 

The Seder Plate

We place a Seder Plate at our table as a reminder to discuss certain aspects of the Passover story. Each item has its own significance.

Maror – The bitter herb. This symbolizes the harshness of lives of the Jews in Egypt.

Charoset – A delicious mix of sweet wine, apples, cinnamon and nuts that resembles the mortar used as bricks of the many buildings the Jewish slaves built in Egypt

Karpas – A green vegetable, usually parsley, is a reminder of the green sprouting up all around us during spring and is used to dip into the saltwater

Zeroah – A roasted lamb or shank bone symbolizing the sacrifice made at the great temple on Passover (The Paschal Lamb)

Beitzah – The egg symbolizes a different holiday offering that was brought to the temple. Since eggs are the first item offered to a mourner after a funeral, some say it also evokes a sense of mourning for the destruction of the temple.

Orange - The orange on the seder plate has come to symbolize full inclusion in modern day Judaism.  Susannah Heshcel started this tradition in response to students at Oberlin College, who wanted to include a symbol on the seder plate to include lesbian jews. 

"When lecturing, I often mentioned my custom as one of many new feminist rituals that had been developed in the last twenty years. Somehow, though, the typical patriarchal maneuver occurred: My idea of an orange and my intention of affirming lesbians and gay men were transformed. Now the story circulates that a MAN stood up after I lecture I delivered and said to me, in anger, that a woman belongs on the bimah as much as an orange on the Seder plate. My idea, a woman's words, are attributed to a man, and the affirmation of lesbians and gay men is simply erased. Isn't that precisely what's happened over the centuries to women's ideas?"

Susannah Heschel, April, 2001
Eli Black Professor of Jewish Studies Dartmouth College

 Matzah - Matzah is the unleavened bread we eat to remember that when the Jews fled Egypt, they didn’t even have time to let the dough rise on their bread. We commemorate this by removing all bread and bread products from our home during Passover.

Elijah’s Cup The fifth ceremonial cup of wine poured during the Seder. It is left untouched in honor of Elijah, who, according to tradition, will arrive one day as an unknown guest to herald the advent of the Messiah. In order  welcome strangers (who may be Elijah), an extra place is set at the table.

Miriam’s Cup - Another relatively new Passover tradition is that of Miriam’s cup. The cup is filled with water and placed next to Elijah’s cup. Miriam was the sister of Moses and a prophetess in her own right. After the exodus when the Israelites are wandering through the desert, just as god gave them Manna to eat, legend says that a well of water followed Miriam and it was called ‘Miriam’s Well’. The tradition of Miriam’s cup is meant to honor Miriam’s role in the story of the Jewish people and the spirit of all women, who nurture their families just as Miriam helped sustain the Israelites.

The Order of the Seder:

The word Seder means order. Tonight's ritual is performed in a specific order, as it has been for thousands of years. The steps represent the  Shir Ha'ma’alos in Psalms - the fifteen songs of ascent. Our Seder follows a fifteen-step ascent.

The SEDER of the SEDER

Kadesh - We say the Kiddush - the first cup of wine

Ur'chatz - We wash our hands

Karpas - We dip a vegetable in salt water, and say a blessing

Yachatz - We break the middle matzah, and hide the larger half, the Afikomen

Maggid - We tell the story of Passover, including the four questions, and the second cup of wine

Rachtzah - We wash our hands with a blessing

Motzi - We say the blessing for bread

Matzah - We say the blessing for matzah

Maror - We dip bitter herbs in charoset, and say a blessing

Korech - We eat a sandwich of matzah and bitter herbs

Shulchan Orech - We eat the festive meal

Tzafoon - We eat the Afikomen

Barech - We say the blessings after the meal, say the blessing over the third cup of wine. We welcome Elijah, the prophet

Hallel - We sing songs of praise

Nirtzah - We complete our Seder, praying that god accepts our service

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

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הַגָּפֶן

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

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

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

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

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

Drink the first glass of wine or juice!

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

KARPAS
Pesach is a springtime holiday. The karpas (or parsley) reminds us of springtime and hope. We dip the karpas twice in salt water because tears taste salty. We remember the tears of our people who cried in Mitzrayim when we were slaves. We are mindful of the tears of other peoples who are not free. And may we never be so comfortable that we become complacent and forget the pain of others. May we always be able to feel the connection between our own struggle for freedom so long ago and today’s struggles against oppression, wherever they occur.

[POUR SALT WATER INTO BOWL, EAT KARPAS DIPPED TWICE IN SALT WATER] 

There are three pieces of matzah stacked on the table. We now break the middle matzah into two pieces. The host should 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 afikomen, literally “dessert” in Greek. After dinner, the guests will have to hunt for the afikomen in order to wrap up the meal… and win a prize.

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.

[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, there is war; next year we will be in peace. 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?

[HIDE THE AFIKOMEN AT SOME POINT]

[POUR THE SECOND GLASS OF  WINE OR JUICE]

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 from Egypt 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.

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.

Sometime around the year 130 CE, five rabbis, Rabbi Eliezer, Rabbi Joshua, Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah, Rabbi Akiba, and Rabbi Tarfon, gathered in the town of B'nei Brak and got to talking about the Exodus from Egypt all night, until the sun rose. Their students, finding them still at the table, still talking, said "It's already morning, and time to recite the morning prayers!"

Fortunately, they responded, so the students didn't have to call to each of them specifically and didn't have to pronounce all their names.

But there's a story behind the story. As the Velveteen Rabbi tells us, "Context is everything."

B’nei Brak was the headquarters of the rebellion against Roman occupation, a rebellion of which Rabbi Akiva was a leader. Because of rebel activities, the Roman authorities had forbidden gatherings of Jews. The seder described in this passage was a chance not only to discuss the liberation from Egypt—but also to plan a strategy of resistance against Roman occupation. The students were standing guard, ready to caution the rabbis to disband at daybreak, lest they be caught.

This tale may be read as an encouragement to become so joyfully immersed in the seder that we don’t notice the passing of time...and it may also be read as a story of how one liberation begets another. Celebrating our freedom from servitude can be a radical act. It was Rabbi Akiva, after all, who famously answered the query, “Which is better, study or action?” with the response, “Study—if it leads to action.”

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.

The symbols and the story of Passover reflect the struggles against injustice, both old and new.

This is the story of Pesach. Let us turn to our ancient tradition.
During a famine, Jews came to Mitzrayim. Their children multiplied and prospered.
They held important positions and played an important role in the political, cultural, and economic life of the country. The old Pharaoh died, and there arose a new Pharaoh, who said: “Look! The Jewish people are too mighty for us.” So Pharaoh put the Jews into labor gangs and set taskmasters over them with heavy loads. He made them slaves and treated them harshly.

In spite of the many cruel decrees of Pharaoh, the Jewish people continued to live and grow strong. Hard work could not destroy them. Pharaoh now hit on a new and more terrible plan. He commanded the Jewish midwives to kill every boy born to a Jewish family. The heroic midwives defied this decree. They continued to help the women give birth and their babies grew healthy and strong.

Shortly thereafter, two defiant midwives, Shifra and Pu-ah helped a son to be born into the house of Levi, to Yocheved and her husband Amram. Yocheved, frightened by Pharaoh's law, hid her son in a basket and placed it on the River Nile.

Pharaoh's daughter rescued the baby; the baby’s sister Miriam, who was hiding in the bulrush plants, offered to find a woman to nurse him. She ran to get Yocheved, the baby’s mother. So Moses, Moishe, which means, “drawn from the water,” was raised by his own mother, his sister, and the Pharaoh’s daughter.

He grew up as a prince, but aware that he was a Jew. One day he tried to stop a taskmaster from beating a slave. Moses hit the taskmaster and accidentally killed him. He was forced to flee the palace. The story goes that one day he saw a bush that was on fire and yet alive and green. Moses saw this as a sign that he must rescue the Jewish people from slavery. Moses saw his people's suffering in Mitzrayim and wanted to set them free. Some say that Moses was the first community organizer, helping Jews see their treatment as unjust and leading them in a fight against oppression and an escape to freedom, building a sense of unity and peoplehood.

The story says that ten plagues ravished Mitzrayim, and then Pharaoh finally agreed to let the Israelites leave. Soon after, however, Pharaoh had a change of heart and mobilized his soldiers to recapture the Jewish slaves, who were now on the shores of the Red Sea. The Jews looked back and saw Pharaoh’s army approaching. The only way out was to jump into the sea before them. According to the book of Exodus, the sea parted, creating a path.

Legend has it that the waters did not divide until one man, Nachshon, walked into the sea. As he walked in, the water rose above his ankles, above his knees, above his waist, above his shoulders, above his mouth and nose - and he kept walking. In doing so he acted as a free person ready to take the ultimate risk for his freedom, and only then did the waters of the Red Sea part for the Jews to walk through. When they reached the other side, the waters flowed back together, catching the army of Mitzrayim and drowning them.

When the Jewish people had crossed the Red Sea, they looked back at Pharaoh’s army and realized that they who were drowning had suffered as well. The Israelites’ joy at escaping slavery was not complete because of the suffering of the others.

In the Jewish tradition, Moses is the highest example of a leader. Many have been compared to him. A Hasidic tale urges us not to compare ourselves to Moses. In the tale, Rabbi Zusya tells his students that when he leaves this life and arrives in the World to Come, he will not be asked, “Why were you not Moses?” but rather, “Why were you not Zusya?” Trying to be

Moses, or Gandhi, or Cesar Chavez, or Martin Luther King Jr., can limit our confidence and stifle our own creativity.

Yet we might ask, what did Moses do that I can learn from? When Moses had grown up, “he went out to his kinsfolk and looked on their burdens; and he saw an Egyptian beating a Hebrew, one of his kinsmen. He looked here and there and seeing that no one was about, he struck the Egyptian and hid him in the sand.” The rabbinic commentators point out that Moses’ first experience as an activist was to see his fellow with his eyes and his heart, and suffer on his or her account. Not only that, but when he “looked here and there, seeing no one,” it means that he saw no one who was ready to champion the cause of justice.

The first step to standing up, whether to taskmasters or to Pharaoh or to bullies or to any injustice, is this simple act: look and see. You may not feel personally threatened. You may be perfectly comfortable. You may want to run away. But the minute you see someone else’s suffering, your heart can’t help but be moved.

Still, in this one action, Moses did not succeed in freeing the oppressed Hebrews. The liberation did not begin with Moses, but with the cry of the Hebrews themselves: “They were groaning under the bondage and cried out; and their cry for help from the bondage rose up to God. God heard their moaning, and God took notice of them.” The Jewish tradition understands these verses to mean that until the people actually cry out, until they speak about their suffering, until they come together to say “we won’t take it anymore,” nothing changes. The midwives were ready to be leaders, Yocheved and Miriam were ready, Pharaoh’s daughter was ready, and Moses himself was ready. But no one could take the Israelites out of Egypt until the people were ready. Each of us has a role to play in the task of liberation; when we lift our voices together, we can crash through all obstacles to justice.

“When I dare to be powerful — to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid.”

— Audre Lorde

עֲבָדִים הָיִינוּ לְפַרְעֹה בְּמִצְרָיֽם עַתָּה - בְּנֵי חוֹרִין

Avadim hayinu lepharo bemitzrayim, ata – benei chorin

We were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt – now we are free.

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 made in the image of God. We pour out a drop of wine for each of the plagues as we recite them.

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

These are the ten plagues which 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

The Egyptians needed ten plagues because after each one they were able to come up with excuses and explanations rather than change their behavior. Could we be making the same mistakes? Make up your own list. What are the plagues in your life? What are the plagues in our world today? What behaviors do we need to change to fix them? 

Dayenu

Eeloo hotzee hotzee anoo

Hotzee anoo mimitzraim

Hotzee anoo mimitzraim

DAYENU (x4)

Eeloo natan natan lanu

Natan lanu et ha Shabat

Natan lanu et ha Shabat

DAYENU (x4)

Volt kayn seyder nit gevezn

Kayn hagode nit gevezn

Ober kneydlekh yo gevezn

DAYEYNU (x4)

Translation

If God had only taken us out of Mitzrayim

That alone would have been enough. If God had only given us the Sabbath,

That alone would have been enough.

If there were no seder
If there were no Haggadah
But if there were matzo balls!
That alone would have been enough.

What does this mean, “It would have been enough?” Surely no one of these things would indeed have been enough for us. Dayenu means to celebrate each step toward freedom as if it were enough, then to start out on the next step. It means that if we reject each step because it is not the whole liberation, we will never be able to achieve the whole liberation. It means to sing each verse as if it were the whole thing — and then sing the next verse. 

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

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

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

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

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!

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 אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ מֶֽלֶךְ 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 God, Ruler of Everything, who made us holy through obligations, commanding us to wash our hands.

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

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

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ מֶֽלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, הַמּוֹצִיא לֶֽחֶם מִן הָאָֽרֶץ

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

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

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

Dipping the bitter herb in sweet charoset | maror  |מָרוֹר   

  In creating a holiday about the joy of freedom, we turn the story of our bitter history into a sweet celebration. We recognize this by dipping our bitter herbs into the sweet charoset. We don’t totally eradicate the taste of the bitter with the taste of the sweet… but doesn’t the sweet mean more when it’s layered over the bitterness?

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

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

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

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

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

Eating the meal! | shulchan oreich | שֻׁלְחָן עוֹרֵךְ

Enjoy! But don’t forget when you’re done we’ve got a little more seder to go, including the final two cups of wine!

Finding and eating the Afikomen | tzafoon | צָפוּן

The playfulness of finding the afikomen reminds us that we balance our solemn memories of slavery with a joyous celebration of freedom. As we eat the afikomen, our last taste of matzah for the evening, we are grateful for moments of silliness and happiness in our lives.

Refill everyone’s wine glass.

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

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

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

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

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

The Third Glass of Wine

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

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הַגָּפֶן

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

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

Drink the third glass of wine!

Singing songs that praise God | hallel | הַלֵּל

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 Chad Gadya & Who Knows One, which you can find in the appendix. To celebrate the theme of freedom, we might sing songs from the civil rights movement. Or perhaps your crazy Uncle Frank has some parody lyrics about Passover to the tunes from a musical. We’re at least three glasses of wine into the night, so just roll with it.

Fourth Glass of Wine

As we come to the end of the seder, we drink one more glass of wine. With this final cup, we give thanks for the experience of celebrating Passover together, for the traditions that help inform our daily lives and guide our actions and aspirations.

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 fourth and final glass of wine! 

Go down Moses way down in Egypt land
Tell all Pharaohs to 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

So the God seyeth, Go down, Moses way down in Egypt land
Tell all Pharaohs to let My people go

So Moses went to Egypt land
Let My people go
He made all Pharaohs understand
Let My people go

Yes The Lord said, Go down, Moses way down in Egypt land
Tell all Pharaohs to let My people go

Thus spoke the Lord, bold Moses said
Let My people go
If not I'll smite, your firstborns dead
Let My people go

God, The Lord said, Go down, Moses way down in Egypt land
Tell all Pharaohs to let My people go

Tell all Pharaohs to let My people go

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.

For Jews forced into the diaspora 2,000 years ago, wandering always in countries which were sometimes safe harbors and sometimes nightmares, the dream of Jerusalem was more than the city itself.

To dream that next year would be in Jerusalem is to dream of a land and a time of autonomy, safety, self-determination, the right to one's own culture, language and spirituality, to live on a land that can't be taken from you by the whim of an outside power. To live with the basic right to be who you are. Jerusalem comes from the same root as "shalom," which is usually translated as "peace," but actually means "wholeness."

This year in Jerusalem, wholeness is sitll very far away. And yet, when we look for the sparks of resistance, we see them everywhere. Fed by an aching for ustice, some sparks have already grown to small brush fires, and grow in strength each day. This year we say instead:

L'Shana ha'ba'a b'shalom!