We have come together this evening for many reasons. We are here because Spring is all around, the earth is reborn, and it is a good time to celebrate with family and friends. We are here because we are Jews and friends of Jews. We are here to honor the Jewish nation's deep historic roots and it's old important memories.

We are here to remember the old story of liberation of the ancient Hebrews from slavery in Egypt- a great struggle for freedom and dignity. We are here because the struggle for human freedom never stops. We are here to remember all people- Jews and non-Jews- who continue to struggle for their freedom.

Let us all fill our glasses with wine... Spring is the season of new growth and new life. Every living thing must either grow, or die; growth is a sign and a condition of life.

Like no other creature, the most significant growth for a human being takes place inwardly. We grow as we achieve new insights, new knowledge, new goals. Let us raise our cups to signify our gratitude for life, and for the joy of knowing inner growth, which gives human life its meaning.

And with raised cups, together let us say:

Group: Na-eem ha-kha-yeem ba-olam-- We are awed by all life in the world.

Na-eem ha-kha-yeem ba-adam-- How beautiful is the life of humankind.

Let us all now drink the first cup of wine.

We wash our hands to indicate that we are ready to begin this evening's Seder. As the water is poured, think about what you would like to let go of right now, what you would like to have "washed away."

Fresh water played an integral role in ancient Hawaiian culture and lifestyle. Wai was believed to be sacred and the earthly manifestation of the great spirit of Kane, the most highly revered of the four ancient Hawaiian gods. Ancient Hawaiians believed that water, along with land, belonged only to the gods and therefore could not be owned – not even by the highest ranking ali'i. Water was upheld as an essential source of life and key contributor to the prosperity of the Hawaiian people. The natural resource was so highly revered that the word waiwai was used to indicate abundance or great amounts of wealth.

From the earliest days, kahawai (streams) were among the most important natural resources sought after by native Hawaiians. The streams often dictated the ahupua'a in which communities of Hawaiians resided.

With this washing, let us take a moment to consider the significance of water, It facilitates good hygiene, plays a role in sanctification, and serves as a symbol of faith. Let us be grateful for our accessibility to clean water, a luxury that many do not have. 

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.

-

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. 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.

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?

Let all who are hungry come and eat.

Let all people gain autonomy over their sources of sustenance.

Let local farms flourish and local economies strengthen.

Let exploitation of natural resources cease so that the land may nourish its inhabitants.

Let communities bolster themselves against the destruction wrought by flood and drought.

Let our world leaders recognize food as a basic human right and implement policies and programs that put an end to world hunger.

The Passover seder inspires us to take action and commit ourselves to working toward these and other sustainable changes. As the seder guides us from scarcity to plenty, let us empower others on their paths to sustenance.

This year we are still slaves — next year we will be free people.

1. Why, on this night celebrating our freedom, do we insist on the eating only matzoh, the bread of slavery?

We eat only matzoh to remember that when the Jews were escaping Egypt, they did not have time to let their bread dough rise. 

We also eat matzoh because tonight, more than any other night, we must remember that we can never be truly free until all people everywhere can share in our freedom. We remember that, fortunate as we may be, there are still so many people around the world who have no choice but to eat their  matzoh, because that is all they have.

2. Why on this night celebrating our freedom, do we eat these bitter herbs?

We eat bitter herbs to remind us of the bitterness of slavery. We must remember the past, so as to ensure that we are not trapped in the complacency of the present. On this night we reflect on the adage that those who forget the past are condemned to relive it, and remember how tenuous our own freedom is.

3. Why do we dip the herbs twice tonight, first in salt water and then in sweet  charoset ?

Because on this night, more than any other night, we must recognize that there are people everywhere whose tears still drench their food. Then we dip again in the  charoset  to represent not only the mortar that our ancestors once used in Egypt, but also the mortar that we must all use to build a better world. By dipping twice we declare that it is not enough to recognize the tears of others, but that we must take real steps to build a sweeter world for them.

4. Why on this night, when we remember the sorrows of others, do we insist on celebrating?

Because on this night, more than on any other night, we recognize that freedom is an ongoing process and that we are here to take the first steps. And though we may not see the fruit of all our efforts, we celebrate knowing that we are laying the groundwork for future generations. We remember that we are all descended from the same ancestors and part of the same human family. 

On this night we say: Let all people go!

It is written that long ago, during a time of famine, the ancient Israelites traveled to Egypt. According to this legend, the Israelites were all in a single family- Jacob and his children. One of Jacob's son's was Joseph, who's wisdom cause the Pharaoh- the rule of Egypt- to make him a leader over his people.

But as time passed, another Pharaoh came into power, one who did not remember about Joseph and his wise leadership. This new Pharaoh feared the Israelites were becoming too influential. He started to oppress and enslave them as a way of weakening them. The Israelites were forced to build cities, erect monuments, construct roads, work in the quarries, and hew stones.

Despite the oppression, the Israelites continued to multiply. So Pharaoh decreed that all males newborns of Jewish mothers be killed.

Jacob's great-grandson, Amram, and his wive Yocheved, had a daughter named Miriam and a son named Aaron. Yocheved then gave birth to a third child. To save him from being killed by the Pharaoh's soldiers, she placed him in a basket which she hid amongst the reeds of the Nile River.

When Pharaoh's daughter came to bathe in the river, she discovered the baby. She called him Moses ("drawn from the water") and decided to raise him herself at the palace. She hired the baby's mother, Yocheved, to be his nurse. Although Moses grew up as an Egyptian prince, he never felt comfortable with the treatment of the Israelites. One day, he struck down and killed an overseer who was beating a Jewish slave. Fearful of punishment, he ran into the desert where his true identity was revealed to him by God.

Moses reunited with his brother Aaron and they entered the palace of Pharaoh to deliver a message. "The God of Israel said, Let my people go!" Pharaoh did not believe in the god of the Israelites, and he refused to let the Jewish slaves go free. Moses and Aaron warned him that God would punish both him and his people with plagues.

First, the waters of Egypt turned to blood. Then the entire land was covered by a plague of frogs. The third plague had lice crawling forth from the dust to cover all of Egypt. The Pharaoh still refused to set the Israelites free. The fourth plague consisted of hordes of wild animals destroying everything in their path. Then God sent the fifth plague- a pestilence that killed most of the domestic animals of the Egyptians. On the sixth plaque, boils burst forth upon man and beast throughout Egypt.

Now Moses announced to Pharaoh that a violent hailstorm would kill everything that was outside. Pharaoh then agreed to let the Jewish men go free, but insisted that the Jewish women, children, and all their possessions remain. Moses and Aaron did not accept this offer, and sent the eighth plague, a swarm, of locusts that devoured everything green that was still living. And the ninth plague was a blanket of darkness that enveloped all of Egypt, except for where the children of Israel lived.

The Israelites are instructed to bring a "Passover offering" to God: a lamb is to be slaughtered and its blood sprinkled on the doorposts of every Israelite home, so that God should pass over these homes when He comes to kill the Egyptian firstborn.

Finally at midnight all the firstborn of Egypt began dying.

The death of the firstborn finally breaks Pharaoh's resistance and he literally begs the Children of Israel to leave his land. Following God's command, they hastily depart; so hastily that there is no time for their dough to rise, and the only provisions they take along are unleavened.

Soon after allowing the Children of Israel to depart from Egypt, Pharaoh chases after them to force their return, and the Israelites find themselves trapped between Pharaoh's armies and the sea. God tells Moses to raise his staff over the water; the sea splits to allow the Israelites to pass through, and then closes over the pursuing Egyptians.

Freedom!

Thus, God liberated the children of Israel from the Egyptians, and all the children of Israel saw God's great power and believed in Him.

Let us remember that the thirst for freedom still exists in all people.

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

A full cup of wine symbolizes complete happiness.
The triumph of Passover is diminished by the sacrifice of many human lives
when ten plagues were visited upon the people of Egypt.

It is fitting that we mourn their loss of life, and express our sorrow over their suffering.
Therefore, let us diminish the wine in our cups
as we recall the ten plagues that befell the Egyptian people.

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

Everyone:

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

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

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

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

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

*Art by Jeannie Sellmer

The second cup of wine is dedicated not only to the Jewish people, but to all people seeking lives free of fear and persecution. 

Let us all hold up our glasses of wine:

Na-eem ha-kha-yeem ba-olam

We are awed by all life in the world. 

Na-eem ha-kha-yeem ba-adam

How beautiful is the life of humankind. 

Miriam's Cup is filled with water, rather than wine. Legend says 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 Israelites the faith and confidence to overcome the hardships of the Exodus.

We place Miriam's Cup on the Seder table to honor the women in all traditions whose stories have been too sparingly told.

I Shall Sing to the Lord a New Song

By Ruth H. Sohn

I, Miriam, stand at the sea and turn
to face the desert stretching endless and still.
My eyes are dazzled
The sky brilliant blue
Sunburnt sands unyielding white.
My hands turn to dove wings.
My arms
reach
for the sky
and I want to sing
the song rising inside me.
My mouth open
I stop.
Where are the words?
Where the melody?
In a moment of panic
My eyes go blind.
Can I take a step
Without knowing a
Destination?
Will I falter
Will I fall
Will the ground sink away from under me?
The song still unformed— How can I sing?
To take the first step—
To sing a new song—
Is to close one’s eyes
and dive
into unknown waters,
For a moment knowing nothing risking all— But then to discover
The waters are friendly
The ground is firm.
And the song—
the song rises again.
Out of my mouth
come words lifting the wind. And I hear
for the first
the song
that has been in my heart silent
unknown
even to me.

Z'roah - lambshank

A roasted lamb shank bone symbolizes the sacrifice that the Israelites offered immediately before leaving Egypt. Lambs were also sacrificed for the annual Spring feasts. A roasted beet can also be substituted on the Seder plate, as a symbol of the blood of the sacrifice.

Charoset

Charoset is a mixture of various fruits, nuts, wine and spices that symbolizes the mortar that the Israelite slaves used to construct buildings for Pharaoh. It also calls to mind the women of Israel, who bore their children in secret beneath the apple trees of Egypt, without any assurance of security or safety.

Maror - Bitter herb

Maror, or bitter herbs, recalls the bitter severity of slavery. But, upon reflection, we realize that bitterness of spirit causes a manifestation of abundant mercy from the Divine: the outpouring of an embittered soul, the intense bitterness one experiences when sensing how far removed one is from Divinity, arouses an abundance of mercy.

Beitzah- Egg

A roasted or hard-boiled egg reminds us of the festival offering which was brought to the Holy Temple every holiday. The roundness of the egg also represents the cycle of life — even in the most painful of times, there is always hope for a new beginning.

Karpas- Green Vegetable

Karpas represents the initial flourishing of the Israelites during the first years in Egypt. In the course of the seder, we dip the karpas in salt water in order to taste both the hope of new birth and the tears that the Israelite slaves shed over their condition.

We are now coming to the Seder meal. As we ordinarily begin with the breaking of bread, we begin tonight with the breaking of matzah.  We recite two blessings; first is the regular blessing for bread, then a special one for matzah.

The upper and middle piece of the three matzot are broken and distributed among the group.

The blessing over the matzah |  motzi matzah  | מוֹצִיא מַצָּה

בְָּרוּךְ 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.

We now follow the custom of a well-known rabbi named Hillel, who 

used to make a sandwich combining all of the ingredients

of the bitterness of slavery 

by putting some maror and charoset between

two pieces of matzoh. 

Hillel viewed the bitter parts of his life, particularly the hardships of poverty that God bestowed upon him, positively. So, while his life appeared difficult, he was able to understand that it was God’s will and ultimately for a good reason. Therefore he placed the bitterness (bitter herbs) inside the freedom (matzoh) and ate it while reclining.

On Eating and Drinking

Kahlil Gibran

Then an old man, a keeper of an inn, said, “Speak to us of Eating and Drinking.”

And he said:

Would that you could live on the fragrance of the earth, and like an air plant be sustained by the light.

But since you must kill to eat, and rob the young of its mother's milk to quench your thirst, let it then be an act of worship,

And let your board stand an altar on which the pure and the innocent of forest and plain are sacrificed for that which is purer and still more innocent in many.

When you kill a beast say to him in your heart,

“By the same power that slays you, I to am slain; and I too shall be consumed.
For the law that delivered you into my hand shall deliver me into a mightier hand.

Your blood and my blood is naught but the sap that feeds the tree of heaven.”

And when you crush an apple with your teeth, say to it in your heart,

“Your seeds shall live in my body,

And the buds of your tomorrow shall blossom in my heart,

And your fragrance shall be my breath,

And together we shall rejoice through all the seasons.”

And in the autumn, when you gather the grapes of your vineyard for the winepress, say in you heart,

“I to am a vineyard, and my fruit shall be gathered for the winepress,

And like new wine I shall be kept in eternal vessels.”

And in winter, when you draw the wine, let there be in your heart a song for each cup;

And let there be in the song a remembrance for the autumn days, and for the vineyard, and for the winepress.

It's almost time to eat! Before we chow down, let's fill that third glass of wine and give thanks for the meal we're about to consume.

On Passover, this becomes something like an extended toast to the forces that brought us together:

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הַגָּפֶן

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

Group says: We praise force of the world, that created the fruit of the vine, that sustains the world.

[Everyone: Drink the third glass of wine.]

Now, LET'S EAT!

During this festival of life, it is important for us to remember our lost sisters and brothers- the millions who died, victims of the Holocaust, and recent victims of wars all around the world. Their anguish, death and displacement must be with us, even in times of celebration. 

We resolve that their memory shall not be lost. 

We accept the responsibility to work towards preventing such suffering. 

We have much to remember, so we drink this third cup of wine to those who were taken from us and to all of those who search and fight for freedom in their lifetime. 

Home

Warsan Shire

no one leaves home unless
home is the mouth of a shark
you only run for the border
when you see the whole city running as well

your neighbors running faster than you
breath bloody in their throats
the boy you went to school with
who kissed you dizzy behind the old tin factory
is holding a gun bigger than his body
you only leave home
when home won’t let you stay.

no one leaves home unless home chases you
fire under feet
hot blood in your belly
it’s not something you ever thought of doing
until the blade burnt threats into
your neck
and even then you carried the anthem under
your breath
only tearing up your passport in an airport toilets
sobbing as each mouthful of paper
made it clear that you wouldn’t be going back.

you have to understand,
that no one puts their children in a boat
unless the water is safer than the land
no one burns their palms
under trains
beneath carriages
no one spends days and nights in the stomach of a truck
feeding on newspaper unless the miles travelled
means something more than journey.
no one crawls under fences
no one wants to be beaten
pitied

no one chooses refugee camps
or strip searches where your
body is left aching
or prison,
because prison is safer
than a city of fire
and one prison guard
in the night
is better than a truckload
of men who look like your father
no one could take it
no one could stomach it
no one skin would be tough enough

the
go home blacks
refugees
dirty immigrants
asylum seekers
sucking our country dry
niggers with their hands out
they smell strange
savage
messed up their country and now they want
to mess ours up
how do the words
the dirty looks
roll off your backs
maybe because the blow is softer
than a limb torn off

or the words are more tender
than fourteen men between
your legs
or the insults are easier
to swallow
than rubble
than bone
than your child body
in pieces.
i want to go home,
but home is the mouth of a shark
home is the barrel of the gun
and no one would leave home
unless home chased you to the shore
unless home told you
to quicken your legs
leave your clothes behind
crawl through the desert
wade through the oceans
drown
save
be hunger
beg
forget pride
your survival is more important

no one leaves home until home is a sweaty voice in your ear
saying-
leave,
run away from me now
i dont know what i’ve become
but i know that anywhere
is safer than here

This is the cup of hope. The seder tradition involves pouring a cup for the Hebrew prophet Elijah. For millennia, Jews opened the door for him, inviting him join their seders, hoping that he would bring with him a messiah to save the world. Yet the tasks of saving the world - once ascribed to prophets, messiahs and gods - must be taken up by us mere mortals, by common people with shared goals. Working together for progressive change,we can bring about the improvement of the world, for justice and for peace, we can and we must.

Let us now symbolically open the door of our seder to invite in all people of good will and all those in need to work together with us for a better world.Let us raise our fourth cup as we dedicate ourselves to tiqqun olam, the improvement of the world. Everyone: "L' Tiqqun Olam!" All drink the fourth cup.

When we rise up from our Seder tables, let us commit ourselves to stamping out xenophobia and hatred in every place that it persists. Echoing God’s words when God said, “I take you to be my people,” let us say to those who seek safety in our midst, “We take you to be our people.” May we see past difference and dividing lines and remember, instead, that we were all created in the image of God. May we see welcoming the stranger at our doorstep not as a danger but as an opportunity – to provide safe harbor to those seeking refuge from oppression and tyranny, to enrich the fabric of our country and to live out our values in action.

Blessed are You, Adonai Our God, who has created us all in Your image. ֶמלֶךְ ָהע ֹולָם, בּ ֹורֵא ּפְרִי ַהגָּפֶן בָּרו ּךְ ַא ּתָה י ְי,ָ ֱא ֹל ֵהינו ּ

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

Blessed are You, Ruler of the Universe, who creates the fruit of the vine.

We now invite our guests to share any readings or commentary they may have to contribute this evening. 

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.

As our Seder draws to a close, this Haggadah declares a final reminder to you that this Passover heralds the beginning of a change for each of us. Our eyes are open to the injustices and oppression that fills the world, and the responsibility that our freedom demands of us, and it is now up to each of us how we use this knowledge.

Will we choose to forget or will we choose to act?

Let us end our Passover Seder by saying in unison:

May slavery give way to freedom.
May hate give way to love.
May ignorance give way to wisdom.
May despair give way to hope.
Next year, at this time, may everyone, everywhere, be free!

We are, each of us, working to meet challenges in our lives, but we are grateful to be here together for tonight’s Seder. Wherever the next year takes us, we look forward to celebrating again, together with the friends and family—new and long beloved.