Our Passover meal is called a seder, which means “order” in Hebrew, because we go through specific steps as we retell the story of our ancestors’ liberation from slavery. Some people like to begin their seder by reciting or singing the names of the 14 steps—this will help you keep track of how far away the meal is!

According to the Kabbalah, the book that represents Jewish Mysticism, every Jew is composite of two distinct souls. The first soul is the   Nefesh HaBehamit   which animates the body. This soul is complete with an infrastructure of powers ranging from pleasure and will to intellect and emotions. The second soul is the   Nefesh Elokit. This soul is described by Job as “a part of G‑d,” and exists both before its descent into the body and after the ascent from the body. 

This means that our loved ones who have passed are actually still alive, existing on another plane at levels of joy and adventure that we cannot even imagine with our Earth-tied minds. That is why we use the term POTSA instead of dead when describing a person gone from this life.  It is an acronym that stands for Passed On To Something Awesome, which requires us to think about the person’s soul now in its most fabulous state of being, rather than focusing on our deep sadness for their loss in our life. It also opens the possibility that these souls are still with us, cheering us on and guiding us closer towards our own self-actualization. This shift honors their current existence and offers a more accurate portrayal of the multi-layered reality of the Universe, while bringing us more feelings of freedom and joy down here where we continue to live on Earth. 

Based on this concept, we’d like to honor all of the souls who have POTSA, and bring them into our space tonight. Please call out the names of loved ones who have left the Earth, inviting them to share in wine and matzo with us and engage in this special experience with us.

By Rabbi Gavriel Goldfeder  alternadox.net

Later on we will do ' rachtzah '─the washing over the matzah . Now we are doing ' urchatz ', which amounts to washing before eating a vegetable.  This is not something we do every day.

To explain, Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook, first chief Rabbi of the State of Israel, writes of dividing life into two categories: the goal, and everything else.  We set goals for ourselves and set out to reach them.  Everything we do that helps us reach that goal is worthwhile.  But how do we relate to all the other things we do?   This is an important question that addresses how we feel about the aspects of our lives that our not essential.  And this is one of the central points of the Seder.

What is the goal of the Seder?  The peak spiritual moment of the Seder is when we fully absorb the spiritual impact of the matzah when we eat it.  So why don't we cut to the chase?  Let's get that matzah inside of us as quickly as possible!  But the truth is, the Seder wants to help us experience every moment of our lives as an encounter with the Divine.  It demands that we let go of our usual distinctions -  important and unimportant, sacred and profane, good and bad, needs and wants.

Tonight, we are going to learn how to experience the Divine within all moments.  Not only prayers and mitzvot, but also eating and conversation.  Not only goals, but journeys.  Finally free to let go of the reins for a moment, we can celebrate every moment equally.  Not only will we recognize the holiness of the process, we will even sanctify ourselves toward this pursuit: urchatz.

R’ Kook deepens the concept for us: vegetables, in the Talmud, are thought to enhance hunger - 'appetizers'.  If eating is an unfortunate concession we make to our animal nature, then vegetables are antithetical to the goal of living life more spiritually. But if eating is another opportunity for encounter with the Divine - if pleasure is an encounter with the Divine ─ then the vegetable we are about to eat is a holy sacrament, drawing us in to a moment of Encounter.  So of course we should wash our hands to prepare ourselves.

Washing toward the matzah -goal and the vegetable-distractions represent two kinds of freedom: the first is freedom to live an intentional life.  We celebrate our right and capacity to point ourselves in a specific direction and actually follow through.  But there is another kind of freedom: freedom to let go, to know that wherever we go we will find Hashem and meaning and direction and connection. It is told that the Ba'al Shem Tov, the founder of Chassidut, when embarking on a journey, would have his coachman, Alexi, let go of the reins and sit backward, facing away from the horses. With the  freedom to let go of the reins, we allow our desires to guide us as much we allow the Torah to guide us.

Rebbe Natan of Brelsov writes that ' urchatz ' is from the root-word in Aramaic that means 'trust'.   At this moment in the Seder, pay closer attention to your capacity to trust and let go.  The goal is to trust enough to sanctify aspects of yourself and the life you live that you never allowed yourself to see as holy. Can you trust the holiness of the night, the 'night of protection', to guard you from any negative impact of what's inside of you?  Do you  trust the people around this table, each of them looking at you tonight with holy Pesach-eyes, to be with you in your search for true freedom?

We have nothing to fear except holding back. We will never reach true freedom if we do not free our desires and appetites to be in service of the Divine.

As you wash, consider that you are preparing yourself for an encounter with something holy – your own desires!  Use the washing as an opportunity to shift your perspective on those desires.

[Greens held up for all to see.]

KARPAS - Parsley and celery are symbols of all kinds of spring greenery. The second time, the salt water and the green can help us to remember the ocean and green plants and the Earth, from which we get the water and air and food that enable us to live.

Leader: N'-varekh `et pri ha-`Adamah.

Everyone:

Let us bless the fruit of the Earth.

[Please dip your parsley into salt water two times and eat it.] 

When we break the Matzah in half, we are symbolizing the split of the red sea. When we break the Matzah, we symbolize the hope that we can eat. When the red sea split, it symbolized the permission; yes you may pass, after hearing the word NO NO NO. During the Seder we get bored and we ask “When can we eat” and until this breaking of the Matzah, we get told NO NO NO. It is hope that there is food, and that we have permission to eat it. 

THE MATZAH OF HOPE and PEACE

Neal Borovitz

Avadim Hayinu:  Not only were we slaves to the Pharaoh of Egypt, we have also been enslaved and persecuted by other Pharaohs.  Among these Pharaohs of every age were the Kings of Babylonia, the Emperors of Greece and Rome, the Churchmen and Nobles of Medieval Spain, Hitler and his Nazi followers, the Pharaohs of Moscow, and the dictators, potentates and terrorists of the contemporary Arab world.  The Babylonian exile was followed by a return to Zion; the Hellenistic domination by the Maccabean victory; the destruction of the Second Temple by Rome with the flourishing of rabbinic Judaism in both the Land of Israel and Babylonia; the expulsion from Spain by tolerance, first in Turkey and Holland and then, ultimately, by the birth of an American Jewish community.  Hitler, the Pharaoh of Auschwitz, whose acts of genocide surpassed the sins of all the other enemies in history:  Even he we survived. Thirty years ago the doors in the iron curtain of the Soviet Union were breached and nearly two million Jews were given the opportunity to live freely as Jews.

Yet redemption is not complete.  Israeli and Palestinian leaders have yet to find a way to answer the yearning for peace with security that we all seek. Millions of Arabs flee their homes and hundreds of thousands die in the Syrian civil war.  Genocide in Darfur continues in the silence of “yesterday’s news”.   Anti-Semitism from both the Political Left and Right is on the rise in both Europe and America.  Yet perhaps the greatest threat to the Jewish community today is the sin of “Sinat Chinam”, the hatred between Jews of differing religious streams and political perspectives. It is a cancer threatening the body and soul of the Jewish people in the 21stcentury.

The Matzah we eat tonight is both the bread of affliction and the symbol of redemption.  For 30 years we added a fourth Matzah to the Seder Plate, calling it the Matzah for Soviet Jewry.  We set it aside and did not eat it.  Tonight, we must still set aside this Matzah, for redemption is not complete.  May this Matzah be a reminder to us of our responsibility to support the efforts of all Jews, who desire to make Aliyah; and of the responsibility of Israeli and American Jewish institutions to be open to both religious and political diversity.  This matzah is a reminder to support the rights of Jews everywhere to live free from the fear of anti-Semitism, whether it comes from the right, from the left, or from within. 

On this Passover night let us also vow to stand in solidarity with Israel, even when we do not agree with its government policies, and to strengthen Israeli democracy. Let us vow to work for better understanding between and cooperation among Jews of differing religious streams and political opinions.  Avadim Hayinu—Tonight we remember that we have been slaves.  Ata B’nai Horin—Now, we are the children of freedom.  May the year ahead bring freedom and security with peace and prosperity for all of us.

Passover is the celebration of life. The story of the Jewish people is truly a triumph of life. Against the odds of history, the Jewish people have done more than survive - we have adapted creatively to each new time, each new place, from the birth of our people to the present day.

Even though death has pursued us relentlessly, time and time again, we have chosen to live. During the many centuries of the Jewish experience, memories of destruction are tempered by the knowledge that the world can also be good.

We have endured slavery and humiliation. We have also enjoyed freedom and power. Darkness has been balanced by light.

Our forebears traveled the Earth in search of the safety and liberty they knew must exist. We have learned to endure. We have learned to progress.

We are proud survivors. We celebrate our good fortune and seek the advancement of all.

Leader:

One of the customs of the seder is the asking of questions - questions about what the ritual actions of the seder mean. The Passover tradition involves the youngest children asking - actually singing - about these matters in a song we call "The Four Questions." 

https://www.friendseder.com/four-questions

The Four Questions we ask at our Hunger Seder challenge us to consider what is different about this night. Only when we ask the right questions can we understand the causes of hunger and take action to end this unnecessary plight.

1. Why during this seder do we focus on hunger?
Hunger remains a painful physical reality for far too many of our friends, neighbors, and family members. Hunger is an oppressive force that holds individuals back from realizing their full potential in life and limits our society from making greater progress. The Passover seder celebrates liberation from bondage and the joy of freedom. But in communities across our country, millions of Americans struggle to put enough nutritious food on the table and are bound by the hardships of their circumstances. As long as Americans continue to struggle with food insecurity, we will continue to dedicate this Hunger Seder to the goal of ending hunger and its causes.

2. Why isn’t it better for local charities to feed people, instead of the government?
Charitable organizations — including MAZON’s nationwide partners on the front lines — are not set up to feed every hungry person in their communities. Food pantries and soup kitchens were created to provide support during temporary or emergency situations, not to solve systemic problems. Many are open only a few days a week and for a few hours of each day. They are largely volunteer run, often out of basements or closets at their local houses of worship, and they primarily distribute food that has been donated from within their communities. They simply could never have the capacity to feed the number of people who need help. Government nutrition programs, on the other hand, have the ability to help millions of people get the food they need to lead healthy lives.

3. What are the costs of hunger for our country?
Being hungry can be all-consuming and distracting, which in turn decreases productivity in working adults and negatively impacts the ability for unemployed individuals to find work. Seniors are particularly vulnerable when it comes to food insecurity and face serious health risks from nutritional deficiencies. Without sufficient food and proper nutrition, children are at a much greater risk for developmental problems, chronic health conditions, and poor academic performance, and face reduced prospects for economic and professional achievement later in life.  
The many personal costs of hunger are magnified at the national level. Hunger and food insecurity increases health expenditures, largely due to preventable diet-related chronic diseases. In both the short and long term, having a substantial population of people struggling with hunger impedes our country’s economic prosperity for everyone.  

4. How could so many individuals and families still suffer from hunger when we live in a society of tremendous wealth?
The best adjective to accurately describe the amount of food available in the United States is abundant. Yet food insecurity affects astounding numbers of people in America. Hunger persists in this country not because of a lack of food, but because of a lack of political will. Now is the time to act and ensure that all people have access to affordable, nutritious food. 

So, first of all, the four children appear in the Jerusalem Talmud, where Rabbi Hyyia, a student of Rabbi Judah the Prince, is quoted as bringing this parable.  Hyyia’s text varies quite a bit from the text we know today: for one, the simple child is not "simple" but stupid. But it is Rabbis at the time of the collection of the Mishnah and Talmud who are creating this rubric. And so we proceed: 

The "Wise" Child asks about the rules and commandments that govern the Seder, and receives a full explanation of the details. This child looks to the future with the rules in mind, seeking structures and understanding that life necessitates systems. Looking toward the future, this child is savvy: what can I do within the structures I'm given, they might ask. In what ways do we search our surroundings for external rules that help us to structure our lives? How does this help, and how does this hurt? Do you look for structures, for open spaces? Sometimes one or the other? 

The "Wicked" Child asks their interlocutor what Passover means to them. This is a separation that incurs wrath, and the statement that this child would not have been among those saved, because of a lack of collective self-identity. But, are they looking for a more personal explanation of how to connect individually with what's going on, and how to proceed? Taking in information from others' experiences in order to shape their own? This child might have done some self-education to ask a more targetted question, which might not have produced the same kind of wrath; perhaps we can ask each other "what does it mean to you to experience the Seder as though you were personally liberated from Egypt?" This child looks to the future, perhaps, with good boundaries and a different understanding of self - and what do we gain by othering this person who is a child in our midst? Do we really get to be arbiters of who would have been saved and who would not? 

The "Simple" Child looks to the future, totally baffled. What does this all mean? What the heck is going on? This child has an open demeanor - there's not a lot of ego here, and it's clear from what's being asked, which isn't actually that different from the "wicked" child (the only difference is the absence of "to you"), but it's met with a much more tolerant kind of inclusion. By implying that we're all in this together, this child is given help understanding what's going on, approaching their communities with humility. Still, like the "wicked" child, their question doesn't show the deeper knowledge that would indicate self-education. This child is looking to the bigger picture, unlike the "wise" child who's looking for the micro-level of life.

The Child "Who Does Not Know How to Ask" is present but silent - looking to the future with a kind of carelessness, perhaps, or alternately with paralysis. The thing about silence is that you can't always tell which is which. The rabbis use "this is because of what god did for me" here - it's the same othering and dividing language as we saw with the "wicked" child, who doesn't get to be included in our collective. Not super merciful? What would have happened if the Rabbis had asked this child a question? How do we embrace our ignorance with humility when we don't know how to ask? That's a lesson from the "simple" child, perhaps. Have there been times when we've assumed ignorance from someone's silence? 

I knew from the very beginning that my baby brother was going to be special. We had to hide him from the crazy Egyptian soldiers who were seeking out and killing all the newborn Israelite babies due to Pharaoh’s command. Whenever they came to our house and we hid him, somehow, he knew to stay quiet. One time he farted really loud but the guard didn’t hear (or smell!) it. It was kind of a miracle now that I think about it. And also a plague... We actually didn’t even give him a name because we were so scared that he might be killed and didn’t want to become too attached.

When baby bro Moses (I like to call him “Chalupa Batman”) got so big that we couldn’t hide him anymore (it’s not like our slave accommodations were so spacious… they were more like an individual WeWork office), my mom suggested that the only way to save him was to send him down the Nile in a basket, hoping that he might find a better future downriver.

I followed Chalupa down along the banks of the river, and watched as Pharaoh’s daughter, Daenerys Targarean, pulled him out of the water and decided to keep him! She was a Mother of Hebrews, and the one who named him Moses – an Egyptian name meaning “I drew him from the water.” I’m not quite sure how I got through her personal security guard, Paul Blart, but I ran up to her and let her know that if she needed a nursemaid for the baby, that I could help find her one. And just like that, my mom became her own son’s nursemaid!

When he inevitably was weaned (Mom would’ve kept nursing til his Bar Mitzvah if she could’ve) we went back to slave life, with no real interaction with him for decades, until one day my big brother Aaron disappeared, and then we heard murmurings around town about an Egyptian man who had come out as being a Hebrew. And he was advocating for us. And bringing miracles. And that Aaron was his press secretary ... er … spokesperson. And wouldn’t you know it, but that out and proud Hebrew man was my baby brother.

Along the way he seemed to have picked up a speech impediment – hence the need for Aaron’s support – as well as a few magic tricks and a personal unbreakable relationship with a God who self-described as “I am that I am” – sounds like a kind of sweet potato if you ask me ... I Yam that I Yam … We are starving after all. Is it time for the festive meal yet?

It turned out Pharaoh was crazy stubborn! Despite some crazy plagues he just wouldn’t agree to either just let us go, or to shift to a sharing economy – he called it Democratic socialism … the fiery hail didn’t quite make him “feel the Bern.” But, in the ultimate twist of irony, his own firstborn was killed along with the firstborn children of man and beast in all of Egypt – except for ours. Schadenfreude – taking pleasure in the pain of another. A great word I learned from Avenue Kuf! Have you seen Avenue Kuf? I learned what the internet is for.

That last night in Egypt we painted our doorposts with blood, quickly shared a roasted lamb with our neighbors (how we had lamb to eat despite being slaves I’m not quite sure…), and ate bitter herbs (we had dried and packed all the delicious ones!). Because we weren’t sure if there were bathrooms in the desert where we were going, we made sure to make our bread in such a way that we’d be sure to not need to use the bathroom for at least a week – hopefully we make it to the Promised Land by then.

If you ask me, the Egyptians would’ve gotten off way easier had they had a female leader. The palace would have been more of a safe space. Pantsuits would have been introduced way earlier into historical garment records.

I should mention: while Mom was nursing Moses for Pharaoh’s daughter I got tight with two of her royal helpers from the local dance academy. They inspired me to take moments to just dance – it’ll be okay – and so one of my most noteworthy moments was leading all of our women – like a million of us! – in dancing after we passed through the Red Sea. We couldn’t do the electric slide due to being so close to water, and everyone knows that Hebrews are incapable of square dancing – no one is willing to follow instructions – so circles it was!

In the end, I’m actually described as a prophetess in the Bible – pretty sweet. I have a mystical well that follows me (and the Israelites) as we wander in the desert – you know you’re jelly. Many families put a cup on the Seder table filled with water in my honor due to my story’s close association with it. While I end up dying before both Moses and Aaron, which admittedly is a bummer, at least I had the chance to have it all, rolling in the deep.

Long ago, Pharaoh ruled the land of Egypt. He enslaved the Jewish people and made them work very hard building his cities.   song: Bang bang bang Phaoraoh was especially cruel to Jewish children. One mother hid her baby, Moses, in a basket in the river. Pharoah's daughter found him and took him home to live in the palace. Moses grew up. He saw the slaves working so hard. He had a fight about it and ran away to be a shepherd. While he was looking after the sheep, he saw a bush on fire that did not burn up and heard God's voice telling him to go back to Egypt, to tell Pharoah to let the Jewish people go.  Song: when Israel was in Egypt land When Moses went to Pharoah, he said "Let my people go". Pharaoh said "No". So, God sent the 1st plague -Blood. Moses went to Pharoah. He said, "Let my people go". Pharaoh said "No". So, God sent the 2nd plague - Frogs. Moses went to Pharoah. He said, "Let my people go". Pharoah said, "No". Song: One morning when Pharoah woke in his bed The 3rd plague was Lice. Moses went to Pharoah. He said, "Let my people go". Pharaoh said, "No". The 4th plague was Wild Beasts. Moses went to Pharoah. He said, "Let my people go". Pharoah said, "No". The 5th plague was Cattle Disease. Moses went to Pharoah. He said, "Let my people go". Pharoah said, "No". The 6th plague was Boils. Moses went to Pharoah. He said "Let my people go". Pharaoh said," No". The 7th plague was Hail stones. Moses went to Pharoah. He said, "Let my people go". Pharoah said, "No". The 8th plague was Locusts. Moses went to Pharoah. He said, "Let my people go". Pharaoh said, "No". The 9th plague was Darkness. Moses went to Pharoah. He said, "Let my people go". Pharoah said, "No". The last plague was Death. Pharoah said "Yes"   song: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10  plagues in Egypt's land The people got ready to leave very quickly, so quickly that their bread didn't have time to rise; it baked into matzah. They walked through the desert to the sea. Pharoah's soldiers chased after them. When they got to the sea, Moses held up his his staff and the sea divided. The Jewish people walked through the sea to freedom and a new future.