• In every generation, we must see ourselves as if we personally were liberated from Egypt. We gather tonight to tell the ancient story of a people's liberation from Egyptian slavery. This is the story of our origins as a people. It is from these events that we gain our ethics, our vision of history, our dreams for the future. We gather tonight, as two hundred generations of Jewish families have before us, to retell the timeless tale.
• Yet our tradition requires that on Seder night, we do more than just tell the story. We must live the story. Tonight, we will re-experience the liberation from Egypt. We will remember how our family suffered as slaves; we will feel the exhilaration of redemption. We must re-taste the bitterness of slavery and must rejoice over our newfound freedom. We annually return to Egypt in order to be freed. We remember slavery in order to deepen our commitment to end all suffering; we recreate our liberation in order to reinforce our commitment to universal freedom.

Kadesh

Here we are, ready to perform the mitzvah of the first cup of wine and to dedicate this whole evening "to telling the story of miracles and wonders that were performed by our ancestors in Egypt on the night of the 15th of the month of Nisan, more than 3200 years ago. This recalls God's promise of redemption to the people of Israel, as it says, "Remember the day of your Exodus from Egypt" (Exodus 13:3).

Fill the first cup of wine

We are gathered here tonight to affirm our continuity with the generations of Jews who kept alive the vision of freedom in the Passover story. For thousands of years, Jews have affirmed that by participating in the Passover Seder. We not only remember the Exodus, but actually relive it, bringing its transformative power into our own lives.

The Hebrew word for Egypt, Mitzrayim , means "narrow straits." Traditionally, Mitzrayim has been understood to mean a spiritual state, the "narrow place," a place of confusion, fragmentation, and spiritual disconnection. The way out of Mitzrayim is through chesed, through attempting to understand those who seem so different from us and through translating our responsibility to others into genuine concern and meaningful acts on their behalf.

Drink the first cup of wine.

.

Barukh attah Adonai eloheinu melekh ha-olam, borei peri hagafen.

Why do we wash our hands all the time?

This washing, even though it is an official task of the Seder, is done without a blessing. It is strictly for cleanliness purposes. And why not? We're about to handle food. It seems so easy for us. We turn on the tap, and there it is. But water is scarce. May we be aware of our water as we continue the Seder.

In ancient times our people were farmers and shepherds. In this festive season, we are meant to feel a connection with the food we eat from the land and to remember that we are surrounded by blessings and miracles no less majestic than those our ancestors witnessed thousands of years ago. Spring reminds us that we are again given a chance for renewal; a new chance to cre- ate peace and goodness in our world. We dip karpas — greens — to symbolize this renewal. The salt water symbolizes the bitter tears shed by our ancestors in slavery.

Each person takes greens, dips them in salt water and recites the following:

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, borei p'ri ha-adamah.

We praise You, Adonai, Sovereign of Life, Who creates the fruit of the earth.

Eat the Karpas

Hey, look here, a plate with Matzah ...

let's see ... one, two, three

there sure is "lotsa"

Three matzot, all set to ear

I'll break the middle,

...an afikomen treat

We are about to take the middle matzah and divide it in half. This matzah which we break and set aside is a symbol of our unity with Jews throughout the world. We will not conclude our Seder until the missing piece (the Afikomen) is found and spiritually reunited. This is a reminder of the indestructible link which infuses us as a world family.

In unison we say…

We cannot forget those who remain behind in any land of persecution, fearful of a growing public anti-Semitism or bigotry. To those still seeking liberty of life, to those striving courageously to build a better Jewish life in the country of their choice and to those of all humankind that strive to live a free and equal existence with all people of the world regardless of gender, race, ethnicity, sexual orientation and gender identity and religion, we pledge our continued vigilance, support, and solidarity.

Later, we will search for the hidden piece of matzah. In much the same way, we seek to reconnect with our neighbors throughout the world. Once having found the missing half, we will be able to continue our Seder. So, too, will the continued bonding of Diaspora Jewry with our homeland allow Israel to grow and blossom as the eternal core of our collective Jewish identity.

In unison, we say…

We pray that they may live in peace, in a land at peace, with a world knowing war no more. We pray that the characteristics that make each human unique will be celebrated everywhere, with a world embracing diversity and knowing prejudice no more.

For the daily meal, there is one loaf of bread; but on the Sabbath there are two loaves as a reminder of the double portion of manna which fell on Friday for the Children of Israel as they traveled in the wilderness. (Exodus 16:22) In honor of Passover, a third matzah was added specifically for the Passover Seder experience.

 
אֲפִיקוֹמָן

We break the middle matzah in half and place the larger piece of matzah, the Afikomen, in a napkin and hide it.

The door is opened as a sign of hospitality.

The matzot are uncovered and held up.

Behold the matzah, bread of infliction, which our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt. Let all who are hungry come and eat; all who are needy, come and celebrate the Passover with us.

The Haggadah sets forth the theme that we — not just our ancestors — were slaves to Pharaoh but God delivered each of us “with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm.” We tell the story of the Exodus and search its meaning to better understand and appreciate its message.

We have an obligation to retell and expand upon the story of our Exodus from Egypt in order to remind ourselves that the struggle for freedom is a constant one. Over the years, Rabbis reasoned that since the Torah com- mands us to retell the story, this must be done creatively, in a way that is compelling to the next generation. The Torah directs us to say, “My father was a wandering Aramean,” but traditional Haggadot translate the verse as “The Aramean wanted to destroy my father.” This was done as a warning to be on guard against two types of enemies who would take away our freedom — the enemy without and the enemy within, posing as a friend and betraying us.

We are also asked to be mindful of two kinds of slavery: physical bondage and spiritual bondage. We must strive to be free in body, but also free in spirit, careful not to destroy ourselves and our people by turning from God and the faith of our ancestors. Throughout the ages, our people have been oppressed and attacked by outside forces, but there is an equal risk of destroy- ing ourselves by abandoning our traditions and repudiating who we are.

All raise their cups of wine, but do not drink

In every generation enemies rise up against us, seeking to destroy us, and in every generation God delivers us from their hands into freedom.

All replace their cups untasted

Our story we are set to tell,

some of you may know it well.

Still, glance about, there's lot to see

matzah, charosets, and parsley

There must be questions now to ask

and to our young ones falls that task.

The Four Questions

Mah nish-ta-nah ha-lai-lah ha-zeh mi-kol ha-lei-lot?

She-b'chol ha-lei-lot a-nu och-lin cha-meitz u-ma-tzah.

Ha-lai-lah ha-zeh, ku-lo ma-tzah?

She-b'chol ha-lei-lot a-nu och-lin sh'ar y'ra -kot.

Ha-lai-lah ha-zeh ma-ror?

She-b'chol ha-lei-lot ein anu mat-bi-lin a-fi-lu pa-am, e-hat.

Ha-lai-lah ha-zeh, sh'tei f'a-mim?

She-b'chol ha-lei-lot a-nu och-lin

Bein yosh-vin o'vein m-subin.

Ha-lai-lah na-zeh ku-la-nu m-su-bin?

Why is this night of Passover different from all other nights of the year?

On all other nights, we eat either leavened or unleavened bread, why on this night do we eat only matzah?

On all other nights, we eat vegetables of all kinds, why on this night must we eat bitter herbs?

On all other nights, we do not dip vegetables even once, why on this night do we dip greens into salt water and bitter herbs into sweet haroset?

On all other nights, everyone sits up straight at the table, why on this night do we recline and eat at leisure?

Later, we will read and explore the whole story of the Exodus from Egypt, but first we give a simple answer to each of these four questions.

We eat matzoh because when our ancestors were told by Pharaoh that they could leave Egypt, they had no time to allow their bread to rise, so they baked hurriedly, without leavening.

At the Seder, we eat bitter herbs to remind us of the bitterness our ances- tors experienced when they were oppressed as slaves.

At the Seder table, we dip food twice; once in salt water to remind us of the tears shed in slavery and again in haroset, to remind us that there is sweetness even in bitter times.

In ancient times, slaves ate hurriedly, standing or squatting on the ground. Symbolically, as a sign of freedom, we lean and relax as we partake of wine and symbolic food.

The Haggadah tells the story of Rabbi Akiba and other Talmudic scholars sitting at the Seder table in B’nai B’rak all night long discussing the events of the liberation from Egypt. They talked all night until their students came in to announce it was time for the morning prayers. If great scholars can find the theme of freedom so fascinating that it keeps them up all night, our Seder too, will be made more interesting with questions, comments and discussion on this theme.

Blessed is God, blessed is He. Blessed is He who gave the Torah to His people, Israel. Blessed is He.

The Torah speaks of four types of children: one is wise, one is wicked, one is simple, and one does not know how to ask.

The Wise One asks: “What is the meaning of the laws and traditions God has commanded?” (Deuteronomy 6:20) You should teach him all the traditions of Passover, even to the last detail.

The Wicked One asks: “What does this ritual mean to you?” (Exodus 12:26) By using the expression “to you” he excludes himself from his people and denies God. Shake his arrogance and say to him: “It is because of what the Lord did for me when I came out of Egypt...” (Exodus 13:8) “For me” and not for him -- for had he been in Egypt, he would not have been freed.

The Simple One asks: “What is all this?” You should tell him: “It was with a mighty hand that the Lord took us out of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.”

As for the One Who Does Not Know How To Ask, you should open the discussion for him, as it is written: “And you shall explain to your child on that day, ‘It is because of what the Lord did.’

We raise our cups as we recall the second promise of liberation to the people of Israel. Let us glorify God who performed these miracles for our ancestors and for us. Let us rejoice at the wonder of our deliverance from bondage to freedom, from servitude to redemption. Hallelujah. We praise God who has delivered us and our ancestors from Egypt and brought us here this night to eat matzoh and maror. Our God and God of our ancestors, help us celebrate future holidays and festivals in peace and in joy.

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, borei p'ri ha-gafen.

Praised be thou, O Lord Our God, King of the Universe, who creates the fruit of the vine!

All drink the entire second cup of wine

The Ten Plagues

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:

דָּם Blood | dam |

 צְפַרְדֵּֽעַFrogs | tzfardeiya |

 כִּנִּים Lice | kinim |

 עָרוֹב Beasts | arov |

 דֶּֽבֶר Cattle disease | dever |

 שְׁחִין Boils | sh’chin |

 בָּרָד Hail | barad |

 אַרְבֶּה Locusts | arbeh |

 חֹֽשֶׁךְ Darkness | choshech |

 מַכַּת בְּכוֹרוֹת Death of the Firstborn | makat b’chorot |

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? 

While the Jews endured harsh slavery in Egypt, God chose Moses to lead them out to freedom. Moses encountered God at the burning bush and then returned to Egypt to lead the people out of Egypt. He demanded that Pharaoh let the Jewish people go. That part of our Passover story is best described in the familiar song “Go Down Moses.”
 

-------

When Israel was in Egypt's land,
Let my people go;
Oppressed so hard they could not stand,
Let my people go.

Chorus

Go down, Moses,
Way down in Egypt's land;
Tell old Pharaoh
To let my people go!

"Thus saith the Lord," bold Moses said,
Let my people go;
"If not, I'll smite your first-born dead,"
Let my people go.

Chorus

No more shall they in bondage toil,
Let my people go;
Let them come out with Egypt's spoil,
Let my people go.

Chorus

Kama ma’a lot tovot lamakom aleinu.

Ilu hotzi’anu mimitzrayim, v’lo asah bahem shfatim, dayenu.

Ilu asah bahem shfatim, v’lo asah vailoheihem, dayenu.

Ilu asah vailoheihem, v’lo harag et bichoraihem, dayenu.

Ilu harag et bichoraihem, v’lo natan lanu mamonam, dayenu.

Ilu natan lanu mamonam, v’lo karah lanu et hayam, dayenu.

Ilu karah lanu et hayam, v’lo he’evairanu bitocho becheravah, dayenu.

Ilu he’evairanu bitocho becheravah, v’lo shikah tzareinu b’tocho, dayenu.

Ilu shikah tzareinu b’tocho, v’lo sifek tzarchainu bamidbar arba’im shana, dayneu.

Ilu sifek tzarchainu bamidbar arba’im shana, v’lo he’echilanu et haman, dayenu.

Ilu he’echilanu et haman, v’lo natan lanu et hashabbat, dayenu.

Ilu natan lanu et hashabbat, v’lo karvanu lifnei har Sinai, dayenu.

Ilu karvanu lifnei har Sinai, v’lo natan lanu et hatorah, dayenu.

Ilu natan lanu et hatorah, v’lo hichnisanu l’eretz Yisrael, dayenu.

Ilu hicnisanu l’eretz Yisrael, v’lo vana lanu et bait habchirah, dayenu.

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

The upper and middle piece of the three matzot are broken and distributed among the group as we recite togetherBaruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, ha-motzi lechem min ha-aretz.

We praise You, God, who brings forth bread from the earth.

Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech ha’olam, asher kidshanu bimitzvotav vitzivanu al achilat maror.

Praised are you, Adonai, our God, sovereign of the universe, who has made us holy through His commandments, commanding us to eat the bitter herb.

Maror (bitter herbs, such as horseradish)--the symbol of bitterness and slavery of the Israelites in Egypt. Today, in a Jewish community that is free, this bitterness takes on another layer of meaning. We acknowledge that there are many among us who are embittered by their feelings of resentment, discomfort, and fear. We know that there is just cause for some of these feelings of fear, for Jews were "other" for so many centuries and mistreated just because they were different.

This laden history has often contributed to some of our families' inability to accept the idea of intermarriage. We acknowledge that Jewish people have struggled and been enslaved in the past and we stretch to transform this defeated posture.
We also know that sometimes our own enslavement or emotional bondage prevents us from being open to hearing each other in our marriage. Loyalties to families of origin need to be honored, unless they prevent us from creating true intimacy. Bitter places are stuck places, and we commit ourselves tonight to moving beyond our own positions to find new points of intersection and connection.

Tonight we dip our bitterness in the sweetness of charoset. Charoset, the sweet mixture of fruits and nuts, symbolizes the mortar of the bricks of the Israelites. It is also the mortar of commitment and interdependence that enabled the Jewish community to survive through those centuries of oppression. It is the building blocks of hope and tradition, which are sweet. We take our maror of fear, and by dipping it into the sweetness we create a new model that honors the fear and suffering yet holds out hope for the future.

By blending our maror and charoset, we acknowledge the blending of faiths and traditions that sit around this table here tonight. We know it is not always sweet and it is not always bitter, but that life is a mixture of both. Just as our taste buds are designed for sweet, salty, sour and bitter, so we taste the range of textures of our relationships. By our dipping tonight we bring together the bitter and the sweet for something new to emerge.

This way of eating matzah, maror and haroset reminds us of how Hillel would do so when the Second Temple still existed, making a sandwich of the Pashal lamb, matzah and maror, fulfilling the Torah injunction: “with matzot and maror they shall eat the Pashal lamb.”

Make a sandwich of marror between two pieces of the bottom Motazah. Dip the sandwich into the haroseth and shake it off.

It's time to eat dinner before finishing the rest of the Haggadah.  While eating dinner, make sure to defend yourself against the possibility that the person to your right will attack you with a banana.