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TABLE OF CONTENTS
The evening shadows lengthen. We prepare ourselves to light the holiday candles. In this act we unite and identify ourselves in time and space with all Jews in other periods and places of our history. Albert Einstein stood in awe of the universe as he struggled to formulate his theory of a unified field. He was not ready to assign consciousness to the unity he proposed. But our ancestors taught us of a Divine Unity: the Source of all things who unites us all as one family. From this idea they developed the concept of ethical monotheism.
Our prophets claimed that the unity of creation called us to act. We still hear their voices, calling us to work for social justice as the foundation for community peace. I come tonight because I want to join this process, as we build a creative and fulfilling Jewish life. I hope each person who participates in this Seder will add their efforts, as we learn, understand, and enrich the traditions of our past, making them meaningful for our future.
As we foster the beauty and uniqueness of our own heritage, so we support those who further the beauty and uniqueness of their respective traditions.
We unite with other Jews and with all who act so that people around the world can live in peace and freedom and develop so they can reap the fruits of their lives as human beings. We know that as long as we live a light glows within us. Even when we close our eyes we experience it. The world itself fills with light and we humans have the ability to increase or decrease its presence.
Look! The day ends. The earth turns from sunshine to dusk and then to darkness. As so often before, we assume for ourselves the task of kindling candles in the night, to enlighten the dark corners of our world. We still live in perilous times. Behind us, though receding into the memories of even the oldest among us, we can still sense the fires of Auschwitz and Hiroshima. Before us, on all sides we face a terror of towers falling and the potential of thermonuclear clouds rising. We gather tonight to create from fire, not the heat of destruction, but the light of instruction; indeed to see more clearly the wisdom, strength and caring that glows from within each of us. Many peoples of the world marked significant events with fire. We Jews also associate lighting fires with special occasions. Like other peoples who regarded fire as a gift to be used wisely and with respect, we also focus our attention on the Source of the lights we use in our ceremonies.
May these candles, lighted on the Festival of Freedom, bring light into our hearts and minds. May they renew our courage to act for justice and freedom here and now. May they illumine the path to truth, justice and peace. And so we repeat the ancient blessing:
Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, asher kiddishanu b’mitzvotav,v’tzivanu lehadlik neir shel [Shabbat v'shel] Yom Tov.
Blessed are You Adonai our God, Sovereign of all space and time, who has made us distinct through Your directives and has directed us to kindle the [Shabbat and] holiday lights.
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.
We praise God, Ruler of Everything, who chose us from all peoples and languages, and sanctified us with commandments, and lovingly gave to us special times for happiness, holidays and this time of celebrating the Holiday of Matzah, the time of liberation, reading our sacred stories, and remembering the Exodus from Egypt. For you chose us and sanctified us among all peoples. And you have given us joyful holidays. We praise God, who sanctifies the people of Israel and the holidays.
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!
To wash your hands, you don’t need soap, but you do need a cup to pour water over your hands. Pour water on each of your hands three times, alternating between your hands. If the people around your table don’t want to get up to walk all the way over to the sink, you could pass a pitcher and a bowl around so everyone can wash at their seats… just be careful not to spill!
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 to consider what we hope to get out of our evening together tonight. Go around the table and share one hope or expectation you have for tonight's seder.
** By celebrating the earth and spring:
[Use a chant without words to keep energy focused as people pass around a basin to wash and dry the hands.] Take pieces of parsley or mint, dip them in salt water, pass them around the table, and say: Blessed are you, YHWH our God, Breathing Spirit of the Universe, who creates the fruit of the earth. Barukh atah YHWH elohenu ruakh ha-olam boray p'ri ha a-da-mah. [Everyone then eats this piece of parsley. From here on, invite people to munch on carrots, celery, and other fruit or vegetables.]
[Someone speaks:] If we cannot take joy in the return of spring, how can we be happy in utopia? The Song of Songs brings us the springtime when flowers rise up against winter, the juices of love arise from the depths of depression, and the night-time of history gives way to the sunlight of Eden, the garden of delight:
Come with me, my love, come away,/For the long wet months are past,/The rains have fed the earth/And left it bright with blossoms./ Birds wing in the low sky,/Dove and songbird singing/In the open air above,/Earth nourishing tree and vine,/Green fig and tender grape,/Green and tender fragrance./Come with me, my love, come away. [The reader passes a blossom from the flowers on the table — if possible on a living plant — to everyone. All sniff and look carefully at their flowers. All sing either verses in Hebrew from the Song of Songs, or the English song "Morning has Broken"] (Chorus) Do-di li va-a-ni lo Ha-ro-eh ba-sho-sha-nim (Repeat)
Mi zot olah Min hamidbar Mi zat olah M'kituret mor Mor u-livonah Mor u-livonah
(Chorus)
Uri tzafon u-vo-i teyman Uri tzafon u-vo-i teyman
(Chorus)
Morning Has Broken
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Morning has broken like the first morning; Blackbird has spoken like the first bird. Praise for the singing! Praise for the morning! Praise for them springing fresh from the Word. Sweet the rain's new fall sunlit from heaven, Like the first dew fall on the first grass. Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden, Sprung in completeness where Your feet pass.
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 Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, borei p’ree ha-adama.
We praise God, Ruler of Everything, 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 just when we most needed them.
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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?
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 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?
Ritual Component
Leader:
No prayer is recited before we break the middle matzah on our Seder plate. This is a silent, reflective act.
Reader:
For we recognize that, like the broken matzah, we are incomplete, with prayers yet to be fulfilled, promises still to be redeemed.
We hide part of this broken matzah and hope it will be found by the end our Seder meal.
For we recognize that parts of ourselves are yet unknown. We are still discovering what makes us whole.
We hide the larger of the two parts of the matzah.
For we recognize that more is hidden than revealed.
Group:
With the generations that have come before us, and with one another, our search begins.
Pour the second glass of wine for everyone.
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.
As Jews we believe that to defend a country you need an army, but to defend a civilization you need education. Freedom is lost when it is taken for granted. Unless parents hand on their memories and ideals to the next generation - the story of how they won their freedom and the battles they had to fight along the way - the long journey falters and we lose our way.
What is fascinating, though, is the way the Torah emphasizes the fact that children must ask questions. Two of the three passages in our parsha speak of this:
And when your children ask you, 'What does this ceremony mean to you?' then tell them, 'It is the Passover sacrifice to the Lord, who passed over the houses of the Israelites in Egypt and spared our homes when he struck down the Egyptians.'" (Ex. 12:26-27)
In days to come, when your son asks you, 'What does this mean?' say to him, 'With a mighty hand the Lord brought us out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery. (Ex. 13:14)
There is another passage later in the Torah that also speaks of question asked by a child:
In the future, when your son asks you, "What is the meaning of the stipulations, decrees and laws the Lord our God has commanded you?" tell him: "We were slaves of Pharaoh in Egypt, but the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand. (Deut. 6:20-21)
The other passage in [Parshat Bo], the only one that does not mention a question, is:
On that day tell your son, 'I do this because of what the Lord did for me when I came out of Egypt.' (Ex. 13:8)
These four passages have become famous because of their appearance in Haggadah on Pesach. They are the four children: one wise, one wicked or rebellious, one simple and "one who does not know how to ask." Reading them together the sages came to the conclusion that 1) children should ask questions, 2) the Pesach narrative must be constructed in response to, and begin with, questions asked by a child, 3) it is the duty of a parent to encourage his or her children to ask questions, and the child who does not yet know how to ask should be taught to ask.
There is nothing natural about this at all. To the contrary, it goes dramatically against the grain of history. Most traditional cultures see it as the task of a parent or teacher to instruct, guide or command. The task of the child is to obey. "Children should be seen, not heard," goes the old English proverb. "Children, be obedient to your parents in all things, for this is well-pleasing to the Lord," says a famous Christian text. Socrates, who spent his life teaching people to ask questions, was condemned by the citizens of Athens for corrupting the young. In Judaism the opposite is the case. It is a religious duty to teach our children to ask questions. That is how they grow.
Judaism is the rarest of phenomena: a faith based on asking questions, sometimes deep and difficult ones that seem to shake the very foundations of faith itself... In yeshiva the highest accolade is to ask a good question: Du fregst a gutte kashe...
Isadore Rabi, winner of a Nobel Prize in physics, was once asked why he became a scientist. He replied, "My mother made me a scientist without ever knowing it. Every other child would come back from school and be asked, 'What did you learn today?' But my mother used to ask: 'Izzy, did you ask a good question today?' That made the difference. Asking good questions made me a scientist."
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.
Our story starts in ancient times, with Abraham, the first person to have the idea that maybe all those little statues his contemporaries worshiped as gods were just statues. 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 had made a promise to Abraham that his family would become a great nation, but this promise came with a frightening 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 the 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.
The glass of wine is put down.
In the years our ancestors lived in Egypt, our numbers grew, and soon the family of Jacob became the People of Israel. Pharaoh and the leaders of Egypt grew alarmed by this great nation growing within their borders, so they enslaved us. We were forced to perform hard labor, perhaps even building pyramids. The Egyptians feared that even as slaves, the Israelites might grow strong and rebel. So Pharaoh decreed that Israelite baby boys should be drowned, to prevent the Israelites from overthrowing those who had enslaved them.
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.
When Israel was in Egypt land --- Let my people go
Oppressed so hard they could not stand --- Let my people go.
Chorus: Go down Moses, Way down to Egypt land, Tell old Pharoah To let my people go.
And G-d told Moses what to do --- Let my people go!
To lead the children of Israel through --- Let my people go!
Chorus: Go down Moses, Way down to Egypt land, Tell old Pharoah To let my people go.
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?
1. Pollution everywhere, and not a drop to drink (blood in rivers)
2. Ecosystems going "out of whack" (affecting frogs, and other living things)
3. Huge dislocations in daily life (think lice, but much much worse)
4. Species extinction (beasts no more)
5. Loss of reliable food supply (cattle plague)
6. Spread of tropical diseases (boils and other globalizing ailments)
7. Changes in weather patterns (hail being just one example)
8. Crop failure (locusts and other agricultural nightmares)
9. Rising sea levels pushing whole islands underwater (darkness)
10. Millions of environmental refugees fueling unrest (killing of firstborn)
Ten Things You Can Do To Help Avoid These Plagues:
1. Drive less
2. Drive smarter (better mileage car, fully-inflated tires, tune-ups)
3. Turn your thermostat down (in winter) and up (in summer)
4. Turn off lights and appliances when you’re not using them
5. Install timers and light-detectors for your lighting needs
6. Buy Energy Star, ultra-efficient appliances and electronics
7. Switch to green power where possible; install wind & solar units
8. Organize!
9. Educate!
10. Vote your conscience; vote for the future
[Raise the cup. All sing or recite Dayenu:]
Had You taken us out of slavery, but not torn the Sea apart for us, it would have been enough for us!
Had You brought us through it dry, but not sunk our oppressors in its midst, it would have been enough for us!
Had You sunk our oppressors in its midst, but not freely fed us manna, it would have been enough for us!
Had You freely fed us manna, but not rested us with Shabbat, it would have been enough for us!
Had You rested us with Shabbat, but not given us the Teaching, it would have been enough for us!
I-lu ho-tzi ho-tzi-a-nu, ho-tzi-anu mi-mitz-ra-yim, ho-tzi-a-nu mi-mitz-rayim dai-ye-nu.
DAI-DAI-YE-NU, DAI-DAI-YE-NU, DAI-DAI-YE-NU, Dayenu, dayenu!
I-lu na-tan na-tan la-nu, na-tan la-nu et ha-sha-bat, na-tan la-nu et ha-sha-bat, dai-ye-nu.
DAI-DAI-YE-NU, DAI-DAI-YE-NU, DAI-DAI-YE-NU, Dayenu, dayenu!
[Someone says:]
What does this mean, "It would have been enough"? Surely no one of these alone would indeed have been enough for us.
It 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 song and then sing the next verse! [All read:]
How many and how hard are the tasks the Redeemer has set before us!
If we were to free the peoples of the world, but not to beat the swords of every nation into plowshares, it would not be enough for us.
If we were to beat the swords of every nation into plowshares, but not to share our food and end all hunger, it would not be enough for us.
If we were to share our food and end all hunger, but not to cleanse our earth and air of poison, it would not be enough for us.
If we were to cleanse our earth and air of poison, but not to turn to wind and sun for energy, it would not be enough for us.
If we were to turn to wind and sun for energy, But not to set aside some time for love and laughter, it would not be enough for us
Then how great, doubled and redoubled, are the claims the Redeemer makes upon our effort! You call us to struggle, work, share, give, think, plan, organize, sit-in, speak out, dream, hope, and pray for the great Redemption: to end the oppression of all peoples, to prevent the extinction of a million species, to shape a planet joyful in our shared abundance, to turn to wind and sun for energy, and to set aside some time for love and laughter, All these!
[Someone reads:] Before entering … the Hajj {Pilgrimage to Mecca], which is the beginning of a great change and revolution, you must declare your intention. It is the intention of a "transferral" from your house to the house of people, from life to love, from the self to Allah, from slavery to freedom, from racial discrimination to equality, sincerity and truth, from being clothed to being naked, from a daily life to an eternal life and from selfishness and aimlessness to devotion and responsibility. — Ali Shariati, Hajj
One of the most powerful, and deeply spiritual, ways to work for social change is for us to take action in the present that embodies — right now! — the future vision that we seek. Forty years ago, the sit-in movement had a vision of the future: integrated restaurants. The sit-ins did not beg legislators to change the law. They did not attack the restaurant-owners. They went, Black and white together, to integrate them. What happened next was up to the owners and the police. They could accept integration, they could beat people up, they could put them in jail, they could kill them, they could change the law. They did all those things, but mostly, ultimately, people changed the law.
The vision of new possibility was not left in the hands of visionaries, for it was embodied in defiant love. It made real the spiritual teaching that the means and the ends are indivisible, for it made the ends themselves into the means, not in a far-off future but in Now. And it gave actual faces to the "issue." It was no longer a matter of courts and law books but of real live students, restaurant-owners, waitresses, police. So the public responded. The sit-ins seeded a fruitful American politics that is still nourishing us, even in days of Imperial War and Insatiable Wealth. — Rabbi Arthur Ocean Waskow
Although this mixture of chopped fruits and nuts represents the mortar of the bricks made in captivity, the sweetness reminds us that even in despair, there is hope. That is why we dip the bitter herbs in the charoset. Where we see injustice, pain and suffering, we must also look for hope, for a remedy, for a solution.
Be the light. As long as the Darfurians are driven from their homes, persecuted, raped and slaughtered, we will shine a light so the world cannot be indifferent and turn away. We pray with the refugees of Darfur for the day when they can safely return to their land and rebuild their lives. We continue to work on all fronts for their safety, even when hope seems elusive. We are buoyed by the fact that even in these darkest times, they have not lost hope.
Charoset question:
What is it that enables one to find hope in the midst of despair?
Pesach, matzoh, and maror have symbolic meaning for us. They are so important and so meaningful that no Seder is really complete unless they are fully explained.
WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS PESACH?
This roasted shank bone is the symbol of the Pesach lamb. Each year at Passover, the Israelites would gather at the Temple to commemorate the Exodus from slavery. Each family would bring a lamb as an offering, to remember the time when our ancestors were spared the fate of the Egyptians. The Pesach was a reminder that God passed over the houses of our ancestors in Egypt. Originally, one of the four questions asked at the Seder was not, “Why do we recline?” but “Why do we eat only roasted meat?” After the Temple was destroyed, sacrifices were abandoned and so was the question about eating only roasted meat at the Seder.
WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS MATZOH?
Matzoh is a symbol of the simple bread of poverty. The matzoh reminds us of the great haste in which the Israelites fled from Egypt. As we read in the Torah: “They baked unleavened cakes of the dough since they had been driven out of Egypt and could not delay.”
In ancient times, the Israelites ate simple foods. For one week each year the matzoh becomes the symbol of those days when people had little, reminding us that our lives are about much more than the material things we have or own.
We are commanded to eat matzoh on the first night of Passover and to rid ourselves of chometz — all bread and leavened food products made from fermented wheat, barley, rye, oats and spelt — for the entire holiday. Though we are prohibited from eating these fermented grains during Passover, we are also commanded to eat Matzoh — flour and water baked so quickly that it does not ferment or rise — at the Seder.
The flat, unleavened matzoh represents humility. Matzoh is not “enriched” with oil, sugar, honey or other things. Only by acknowledging our own shortcomings and looking to a higher wisdom, can we free ourselves from the arrogance and self-centeredness within our own hearts.
WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS MAROR?
We eat the maror, or bitter herbs, to remind ourselves that the Egyptians embittered the lives of our people. As we read: “And they made their lives bit- ter with hard labor at mortar and brick and in all sorts of drudgery in the field; and they ruthlessly imposed all the tasks upon them.”
Even today, oppression remains in the world, and we are meant to taste its bitterness recalling these words : “You shall not oppress a stranger, for you know the feelings of the stranger, having yourselves been strangers in Egypt. When strangers reside with you in your land, you shall not wrong them...You shall love them as yourself, for you were strangers in Egypt. You shall rejoice before God with your son and daughter...and the stranger, and the orphan, and the widow in your midst. Always remember that you were slaves in Egypt.”
As we eat the bitter herbs, we are reminded to remove any bitterness from our own lives, for bitterness will kill even sooner than death. If we become used to bitterness in our lives, it is very hard to ever leave it behind.
Rabbi Meir ben Tzipporah v’Nechemia haLevi was often asked about the meaning of the roasted egg. It remains on the Seder Plate, yet never discussed. The egg reminds us of many things. Its presence on the Seder Plate represents the holiday sacrifice our ancestors made when the Temple stood. But, as with any good symbol it is rich with meaning. The egg itself is symbolic of life and reminds us of the blossoming world around us. The egg’s roundness reminds us of the unending nature of life. But why is it roasted? Some tell us that, like the roasted egg, the Jewish people gets harder and stronger the more they are tested.
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.
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!
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.
Filling Miriam's Cup follows the second cup of wine, before washing the hands. Raise the empty goblet and say:
Miriam's cup is filled with water, rather than wine. I invite women of all generations at our Seder table to fill Miriam's cup with water from their own glasses.
Pass Miriam's cup around the table(s). Explain the significance of filling Miriam's cup with water:
A Midrash teaches us that a miraculous well accompanied the Hebrews throughout their journey in the desert, providing them with water. This well was given by God to Miriam, the prophetess, to honor her bravery and devotion to the Jewish people. Both Miriam and her well were spiritual oases in the desert, sources of sustenance and healing. Her words of comfort gave the Hebrews the faith and confidence to overcome the hardships of the Exodus. We fill Miriam's cup with water to honor her role in ensuring the survival of the Jewish people. Like Miriam, Jewish women in all generations have been essential for the continuity of our people. As keepers of traditions in the home, women passed down songs and stories, rituals and recipes, from mother to daughter, from generation to generation. Let us each fill the cup of Miriam with water from our own glasses, so that our daughters may continue to draw from the strength and wisdom of our heritage.
Opportunity to share a story or two about a Jewish woman in your life.
When Miriam's cup is filled, and stories are told (if appropriate), raise the goblet and say:
We place Miriam's cup on our Seder table to honor the important role of Jewish women in our tradition and history, whose stories have been too sparingly told.
Continue by reciting this prayer (from Susan Schnur):
"You abound in blessings, God, creator of the universe, Who sustains us with living water. May we, like the children of Israel leaving Egypt, be guarded and nurtured and kept alive in the wilderness, and may You give us wisdom to understand that the journey itself holds the promise of redemption. AMEN." --Susan Schnur
Alternate Reader :
Miriam's life is a contrast to the life of Elijah, and both teach us important lessons. Elijah was a hermit, who spent part of his life alone in the desert. He was a visionary and prophet, often very critical of the Jewish people, and focused on the messianic era. On the other hand, Miriam lived among her people in the desert, following the path of hesed, or loving kindness. She constantly comforted the Israelites throughout their long journey, encouraging them when they lost faith. Therefore, Elijah's cup is a symbol of future messianic redemption, while Miriam's cup is a symbol of hope and renewal in the present life. We must achieve balance in our own lives, not only preparing our souls for redemption, but rejuvenating our souls in the present. Thus, we need both Elijah's cup and Miriam's cup at our seder table.
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!
Who Knows One?
1. Who knows one? I know one!
One is Hashem, one is Hashem, one is Hashem!
In the Heaven and the Earth
אחד אלוהינו שבשמיים ובארץ
.א
2. Who knows two? I know two!
Two are the tablets that Moses brought,
and one is Hashem, etc...
שני לוחות הברית
.ב
3. Who knows three? I know three!
Three are the fathers,
and two are the tablets that Moses brought,
and one is Hashem, etc.
שלושה אבות
.ג
4. Who knows four? I know four!
Four are the Mothers,
and three are the fathers,
and two are the tablets that Moses brought,
and one is Hashem.....
ארבע אימהות
.ד
5. Who knows five? I know five!
Five are the books of the *clap* Torah,
Four are the mothers, and three are the fathers
and two are the tablets that Moses brought,
and one is Hashem...
חמישה חומשי תורה
.ה
6. Who knows six? I know six!
Six are the books of the *clap* Mishnah,
and five are the books of the *clap* Torah,
and four are the mothers and three are the fathers
and two are the tablets that Moses brought,
and one is Hashem...
שישה סידרי משנה
.ו
7. Who knows seven? I know seven!
Seven are the days of the week *clap, clap*,
Six are the books of the *clap* Mishnah,
and five are the books of the *clap* Torah,
and four are the mothers and three are the fathers
and two are the tablets that Moses brought,
and one is Hashem...
שיבעה ימי שבתא
.ז
8. Who knows eight? I know eight!
Eight are the days til the Brit Milah
Seven are the days of the week *clap, clap*,
Six are the books of the *clap* Mishnah,
and five are the books of the *clap* Torah,
and four are the mothers and three are the fathers
and two are the tablets that Moses brought,
and one is Hashem...
שמונה ימי מילה
.ח
9. Who knows nine? I know nine!
Nine are the months til the baby's born
Eight are the days til the Brit Milah
Seven are the days of the week *clap, clap*,
Six are the books of the *clap* Mishnah,
and five are the books of the *clap* Torah,
and four are the mothers and three are the fathers
and two are the tablets that Moses brought,
and one is Hashem...
תישעה ירחי לידה
.ט
10. Who know ten? I know ten!
Ten are the Ten Commandments
Nine are the months til the baby's born
Eight are the days til the Brit Milah
Seven are the days of the week *clap, clap*,
Six are the books of the *clap* Mishnah,
and five are the books of the *clap* Torah,
and four are the mothers and three are the fathers
and two are the tablets that Moses brought,
and one is Hashem...
עשרה דיבריא
.י
11. Who knows eleven? I know eleven!
Eleven are the stars in Joseph's dream
Ten are the Ten Commandments
Nine are the months til the baby's born
Eight are the days til the Brit Milah
Seven are the days of the week *clap, clap*,
Six are the books of the *clap* Mishnah,
and five are the books of the *clap* Torah,
and four are the mothers and three are the fathers
and two are the tablets that Moses brought,
and one is Hashem...
אחד עשר כוכביא
.יא
12. Who knows twelve? I know twelve!
Twelve are the tribes of Israel
Eleven are the stars in Joseph's dream
Ten are the Ten Commandments
Nine are the months til the baby's born
Eight are the days til the Brit Milah
Seven are the days of the week *clap, clap*,
Six are the books of the *clap* Mishnah,
and five are the books of the *clap* Torah,
and four are the mothers and three are the fathers
and two are the tablets that Moses brought,
and one is Hashem...
שנים עשר שיבטיא
.יב
Nirtzah marks the conclusion of the seder. Our bellies are full, we have had several glasses of wine, we have told stories and sung songs, and now it is time for the evening to come to a close. At the end of the seder, we honor the tradition of declaring, “Next year in Jerusalem!”
For some people, the recitation of this phrase expresses the anticipation of rebuilding the Temple in Jerusalem and the return of the Messiah. For others, it is an affirmation of hope and of connectedness with Klal Yisrael, the whole of the Jewish community. Still others yearn for peace in Israel and for all those living in the Diaspora.
Though it comes at the end of the seder, this moment also marks a beginning. We are beginning the next season with a renewed awareness of the freedoms we enjoy and the obstacles we must still confront. We are looking forward to the time that we gather together again. Having retold stories of the Jewish people, recalled historic movements of liberation, and reflected on the struggles people still face for freedom and equality, we are ready to embark on a year that we hope will bring positive change in the world and freedom to people everywhere.
In The Leader's Guide to the Family Participation Haggadah: A Different Night, Rabbi David Hartman writes: “Passover is the night for reckless dreams; for visions about what a human being can be, what society can be, what people can be, what history may become.”
What can we do to fulfill our reckless dreams? What will be our legacy for future generations?
Our seder is over, according to Jewish tradition and law. As we had the pleasure to gather for a seder this year, we hope to once again have the opportunity in the years to come. We pray that God brings health and healing to Israel and all the people of the world, especially those impacted by natural tragedy and war. As we say…
לְשָׁנָה הַבָּאָה בִּירוּשָׁלָֽיִם
L’shana haba-ah biy’rushalayim
NEXT YEAR IN JERUSALEM!
Chad Gadya
חַד גַּדְיָא, חַד גַּדְיָא
דְזַבִּין אַבָּא בִּתְרֵי זוּזֵי
חַד גַּדְיָא, חַד גַּדְיָא
Chad gadya, chad gadya
Dizabin abah bitrei zuzei
Chad gadya, chad gadya.
One little goat, one little goat:
Which my father brought for two zuzim.
One little goat, one little goat:
The cat came and ate the goat,
Which my father bought for two zuzim.
One little goat, one little goat:
The dog came and bit the cat
That ate the goat,
Which my father bought for two zuzim.
One little goat, one little goat:
The stick came and beat the dog
That bit the cat that ate the goat,
Which my father bought for two zuzim.
One little goat, one little goat:
The fire came and burned the stick
That beat the dog that bit the cat
That ate the goat,
Which my father bought for two zuzim.
One little goat, one little goat:
The water came and extinguished the
Fire that burned the stick
That beat the dog that bit the cat
That ate the goat,
Which my father bought for two zuzim.
One little goat, one little goat:
The ox came and drank the water
That extinguished the fire
That burned the stick that beat the dog That bit the cat that ate the goat,
Which my father bought for two zuzim.
One little goat, one little goat:
The butcher came and killed the ox,
That drank the water
That extinguished the fire
That burned the stick that beat the dog That bit the cat that ate the goat,
Which my father bought for two zuzim.
One little goat, one little goat:
The angle of death came and slew
The butcher who killed the ox,
That drank the water
That extinguished the fire
That burned the stick that beat the dog That bit the cat that ate the goat,
Which my father bought for two zuzim.
One little goat, one little goat:
The Holy One, Blessed Be He came and
Smote the angle of death who slew
The butcher who killed the ox,
That drank the water
That extinguished the fire
That burned the stick that beat the dog That bit the cat that ate the goat,
Which my father bought for two zuzim.
