Our first cup of wine (or grape juice) is for the physical spring that we see, hear, smell, touch. It is one of the many miracles we see every year. Green forces its way through the cracks of the hard earth. Birds begin to venture out and sing. The scent of flowers perfumes the air. Warmth begins to creep into our skin and make us feel alive again.

We raise our cups and recite:

Baruch atah adonai, elohaynu melech ha'olam, borei p'ri ha'gafen.

   On Shabbat begin here, and include the portions in parentheses

וַיְהִי עֶרֶב וַיְהִי בֹקֶר יוֹם הַשִּׁשִּׁי. וַיְכֻלּוּ הַשָׁמַיִם וְהָאָרֶץ וְכָל צְבָאַָם. וַיְכַל אֱלֹקִים בַּיוֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִי מְלַאכְתּוֹ אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה וַיִּשְׁבֹּת בַּיוֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִי מִכָּל מְלַאכְתּוֹ אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה. וַיְבָרֶךְ אֱלֹהִים אֶת יוֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִי וַיְקַדֵּשׁ אוֹתוֹ כִּי בוֹ שָׁבַת מִכָּל מְלַאכְתּוֹ אֲשֶׁר בֶָּרָא אֱלֹהִים לַעֲשׂוֹת.)

סַבְרִי מָרָנָן וְרַבָּנָן וְרַבּוֹתַי

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הַגָפֶן.

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, אֲשֶׁר בָּחַר בָּנוּ מִכָּל עָם וְרוֹמְמָנוּ מִכָּל לָשׁוֹן וְקִדְּשָׁנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתָיו. וַתִּתֶּן לָנוּ יי אֱלֹהֵינוּ בְּאַהֲבָה (שַׁבָּתוֹת לִמְנוּחָה וּ) מוֹעֲדִים לְשִׂמְחָה, חַגִּים וּזְמַנִּים לְשָׂשׂוֹן, אֶת יוֹם (הַשַׁבָּת הַזֶה וְאֶת יוֹם) חַג הַמַצוֹת הַזֶה, זְמַן חֵרוּתֵנוּ (בְּאַהֲבָה), מִקְרָא קֹדֶשׁ, זֵכֶר לִיצִיאַת מִצְרָיִם. כִּי בָנוּ בָחַרְתָּ וְאוֹתָנוּ קִדַּשְׁתָּ מִכָּל הָעַמִּים, (וְשַׁבָּת) וּמוֹעֲדֵי קָדְשֶךָ (בְּאַהֲבָה וּבְרָצוֹן,) בְּשִׂמְחָה וּבְשָׂשׂוֹן הִנְחַלְתָּנוּ. בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי, מְקַדֵּשׁ (הַשַׁבָּת וְ) יִשְׂרָאֵל וְהַזְּמַנִּים.

On Saturday night include

[בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרֵא מְאוֹרֵי הָאֵשׁ. בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם הַמַבְדִיל בֵּין קֹדֶשׁ לְחֹל, ין אוֹר לְחשֶׁךְ, בֵּין יִשְׂרָאֵל לָעַמִּים, בֵּין יוֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִי לְשֵׁשֶׁת יְמֵי הַמַּעֲשֶׂה. בֵּין קְדֻשַּׁת שַׁבָּת לִקְדֻשַּׁת יוֹם טוֹב הִבְדַּלְתָּ, וְאֶת יוֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִי מִשֵּׁשֶׁת יְמֵי הַמַּעֲשֶׂה קִדַּשְׁתָּ. הִבְדַּלְתָּ וְקִדַּשְׁתָּ אֶת עַמְּךָ יִשְׂרָאֵל בִּקְדֻשָּׁתֶךָ. ,בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי הַמַּבְדִיל בֵּין קֹדֶשׁ לְקֹדֶשׁ.]

הִנְנִי מוּכָן וּמְזוּמָּן לְקַיֵּם מִצְוַת חג המצות לְשֵׁם יִחוּד קוּדְשָׁא בְּרִיךְ הוּא וּשְׁכִינְתֵּיהּ.

Hin'ni muchan u-m'zuman l'kayem mitzvat chag hamatzah l'shem yichud kudsha brich hu u-schinteh.

May my commemoration of the festival of matzvah create healing, effecting a unification between the Holy Blessed One and Shekhinah, God far beyond & God deep within. 

Adapted by Koach Frazier from a translation by Rabbi Rachel Barenblat

Now, we're going to take the wine/juice that we've poured and each add to Elijah's cup.

Now let's do the same from our water glasses to fill Miriam's cup.

Combining our actions together is what will help Elijah come to ourworld.

 We set an extra place for Elijah and we'll open the door and invite him in later. Miriam was Moses's sister and we honor her for how she helped Moses wich made our story possible today.

We will drink the first of four cups of wine

And give up control

To the wine, to the story, to God.

We are in Mitzrayim, the narrow place, And God says to us:

I Shall Take You Out,

I Shall Rescue You,

I Shall Redeem You,

I Shall Take You to Me.

 

Sanctify the day with the First Cup.

I Shall Take You Out, sez God,

From the burdens of Egypt.

That's nice.  But what about 

The burdens of now?

War, sex slavery, exploitation, inequality,

Not much changes.

We better get out from under,

Resist the oppressor

And make our own places free.

So drink from the Cup of Sanctification.The fruit of our hopes and prayers.

 

 

Tell the Story of a People's Creation with the Second Cup.

I Shall Rescue You, sez God,

From someone else's definition 

Of you are, of what you can be.

Inspired by God, we free ourselves.

Moses or Abraham Lincoln or Betty Friedan

Freedom is not something we can be given

Freedom is something we must create.

So drink from the Cup of Deliverance

The fruit of our arduous journey.

 

Thank the chain of work that created the Seder meal with the Third Cup.

I Shall Redeem You, sez God

With an outstretched arm

Scattering the seeds

To the earth to the vineyard to the farmworker  to the winemaker to the bottle to the grocer,

All for this glass of wine.

Redemption is hard work,

Forgivenss requires self awareness,

Teshuvah ain't for babies.

So drink from the Cup of Redemption

The fruit of our many labors.

 

 

Praise God's Awesome Glory with the Fourth Cup.

I Shall Take You to Me, sez God

For a people

And be your GodIn eternal covenant.

Gosh, can I get a job description first?

Commitment to obligation

Requires freedom to choose

And freedom to disobey.

So drink from the Cup of Restoration

The fruit of our Holy Connection

 

 

God says to us:

I Shall Take You Out.

I Shall Rescue You.

I Shall Redeem You.

I Shall Take You to Me.Drink.

 

Amen

 

 

What a blessing to live in a world in which fruit on the vine can turn into wine.

What a blessing to come from a culture that tells stories and celebrates the seasons.

What a blessing to exist in a universe that, after billions of years, has arrived at this moment, here and now, with us gathered around this table.

The Four Freedoms were goals articulated by United States President Franklin D. Roosevelt on January 6, 1941. In an address known as the Four Freedoms speech, he proposed four fundamental freedoms that people "everywhere in the world" ought to enjoy: Freedom of Speech- The right to say and stand up for what you believe in. Freedom of Worship- "Freedom of everyone to be able to worship god in their own way."Freedom of Want- Being able to have basic necessities such as clothing, food, and shelter.Freedom from Fear- Neighbors get along with each other and people were not constantly in fear for their well-being.

Questions to ponder: Do you see any problems in each freedom? Do you feel we live in a world where we are experiencing each freedom? What would your personal four freedom be?

Together as we wash our hands, they move into the bowl of water, and back out of the water. Why do we do this? Are our hands really getting clean without soap? We won’t be eating for some time, why do we do this so early?

The washing of our hands suggests that we are open to question. One question that is always asked is about hope.

Rick Recht answers in his song:

This is the hope that holds us together, Hatikvah, the hope that will last forever, the hope is still real.

From the Diaspora, to the exodus, to the holocaust, to war, to independence, to more wars, to threats, bombing, and peace, Israelis never give up hope. We are strong people because we have hope. And the hope holds us together. That’s why the Israeli National Anthem is Hatikvah, because that means hope.

Leader: Centuries ago, only those who were free enjoyed the luxury of dipping their food to begin a meal. In celebration of our people’s freedom, tonight, we, too, start our meal by dipping green vegetables. However, we also remember that our freedom came after tremendous struggle. And, so, we dip our vegetables into salt water to recall the ominous waters that threatened to drown our Israelite ancestors as they fled persecution in Egypt, as well as the tears they shed on that harrowing journey to freedom.

We recognize that, today, there are more than 68 million people still making these treacherous journeys away from persecution and violence in their homelands. As we dip the karpas into salt water tonight, we bring to mind those who have risked and sometimes lost their lives in pursuit of safety and liberty.

Group: We dip for the Rohingya father who walked for six days to avoid military capture in his native Myanmar before he came to the Naf River and swam to Bangladesh.

We dip for the Syrian mother rescued from the dark waters of the Mediterranean Sea in the early hours of morning, still holding the lifeless body of her infant child after their small boat capsized.2

We dip for the Somali and Ethiopian refugees deliberately drowned when the smuggler who promised them freedom forced them into the Arabian Sea.

Leader: We dip for these brave souls and for the thousands of other refugees and asylum seekers who have risked their lives in unsafe and unforgiving waters across the globe this past year.

It is a green vegetable that we dip tonight – a reminder of spring, hope, and the possibility of redemption even in the face of unimaginable difficulty. As we mourn those who have lost their lives in search of freedom, we remain hopeful that those who still wander will find refuge.

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 fruit of the earth.

(Professor Eliezer Segal, http://www.acs.ucalgary.ca/~elsegal/)   Why is it only  on Passover night we never know how to do anything right?   We don't eat our meals in the regular ways, the ways that we do on all other days.   `Cause on all other nights we may eat all kinds of wonderful good bready treats,   like big purple pizza that tastes like a pickle, crumbly crackers and pink pumpernickel, sassafras sandwich and tiger on rye, fifty falafels in pita, fresh-fried, with peanut-butter and tangerine sauce spread onto each side up-and-down, then across, and toasted whole-wheat bread with liver and ducks, and crumpets and dumplings, and bagels and lox, and doughnuts with one hole and doughnuts with four, and cake with six layers and windows and doors.    Yes-- on all other nights we eat all kinds of bread, but tonight of all nights we munch matzah instead.   And on all other nights we devour vegetables, green things, and bushes and flowers, lettuce that's leafy and candy-striped spinach, fresh silly celery (Have more when you're finished!) cabbage that's flown from the jungles of Glome by a polka-dot bird who can't find his way home, daisies and roses and inside-out grass and artichoke hearts that are simply first class! Sixty asparagus tips served in glasses with anchovy sauce and some sticky molasses-- But on Passover night you would never consider eating an herb that wasn't all bitter.

I gave my tenth and last performance of the Ma Nishtanah during the second night of  seder at the age of ten. Friends and family gathered around the table to witness the  final impassioned rendition. You see, when you're the son of a Cantor, people expect a lot of you.  And I delivered year after year. Question after question. That night was no exception. Some children need the crutch of transliteration. I didn't even need a Hagaddah. Going completely off book, I begged of the table: "Ma nishtana ha-laila ha-zeh mi-kol ha-leilot?"  Without a script, I had the freedom to gesture, to look into their eyes and demand to know why we were dipping our herbs twice that evening. To my recollection there was applause. But truth be told, the glory of the four questions is short lived. There's always someone younger, cuter, just waiting to take your place.  And quite literally, with a baby sister who was turning five, I was getting too old for it.

I haven't sung that song in 16 years. So this year, I created a new set of questions that have been on my mind:

1. If the purpose of engaging the children during the seder is to fulfill the duty of passing the story down, wouldn't it make more sense just to plop them in front of a television and pop in "The Prince of Egypt?" The story itself is far less convoluted than the one in the Haggadah.  Not to mention the fact that it is told through a medium targeted at children, complete with modern animation and an award winning sound track. I'm an adult and still have trouble wrapping my head around the part about the five rabbis and difference between anger, wrath, indignation, trouble and messengers of evil. 

2. I know that it's not particularly Jewish, but being as it is probably the most famous seder, I can't help but wonder: who sang the Ma Nishtanah at the last supper (I would assume it was John as he was the youngest disciple)? Furthermore did they have an afikoman? And if everyone present was eating matzah why are they never depicted with crumbs all over their robes? Also, at the end did they bother saying 'Next year in Jerusalem?' 

3.When do we eat?*

 

*In the interest of the third question, I have removed the fourth.

 

MAZON’s Fifth Question:

Why on this night are millions of people going hungry?

Passover is a magical time when we gather with family and friends to retell the story of our people’s freedom from bondage. We read from a prayer book, perform rituals that are thousands of years old, and eat. We eat A LOT. Many of us eat far more than we should, but the food is so delicious, it’s nearly impossible to resist. Unfortunately, not everyone is lucky enough to have that luxury.

Hunger in America is at an epidemic level, despite how it might seem at first glance. 50 million Americans – including 17 million children – struggle with hunger every day. One out of every six people in this country can’t be sure when or if they’ll have their next meal. Hungry people live in every community in the country and come in all colors, shapes and sizes. They wrestle with impossible choices no one should have to make: buy my daughter’s asthma medication or feed my family? Whose turn is it to eat: the children or the adults? 

America is a nation of abundance and wealth, and Jews are a people dedicated to fighting on behalf of the vulnerable. How could this injustice possibly happen here?

There is another way – an end to hunger is within our reach. Early in the seder we say, “All who are hungry, let them enter and eat.” More than an invitation to join us at the dinner table, we at MAZON see these words as a rallying cry – a call to do more to help those who so desperately need it; to fight for responsible government policies that promote the health and security of everyone in our nation; to provide access to resources that allow people to pick themselves up and build (or rebuild) their lives; to give every man, woman and child a chance not only to live their lives, but to thrive.

watercolor and pen on paper
Beth Flusser,  2011

I have a little morror,It looks a lot like Chreyn;But when dipped in Charoses, It will taste just fine!Oh, morror, morror, morror,It's bitter and not sweet,But at the Pesach Seder,A mitzvah it's to eat.Hillel said, "Make a sandwich."With matzoh it really goes,And a really big biteClears your sinus and your nose!Oh, koreych, koreych, koreych,It's bitter and not sweet,But when the Temple stood,With lamb it was a treat.

---------

alternate ending for those with Orthodox sensibilities:But when the Temple's rebuilt,With lamb 'twill be a treat!

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?

•Reader:  In Exodus, there are a lot of laws that pertain differently to natives, or “ezrah” and sojourners, or “ger.”  The word “ezrah” is literally a kind of plant, probably a grapevine.  Metaphorically, it means something like “nurtured by the soil.”  The fact that native Israelites are referred to as “grapevines” says a lot about the importance of grapes and wine in our culture. •Questioner: Why are we obligated to drink four cups of wine?

•Reader: There are many reasons proposed. Here are the ones from the Hagaddah and from three different Jewish sages

•Reader:  The Hagaddah says:  With each cup, we recall the four different promises of freedom that God gave our people:  “I will free you from the burdens of the Egyptians,” “I will deliver you from their bondage,” “I will redeem you with an outstretched arm,” and “I will take you to be my people.” •Reader:  The Vilna Gaon says: They relate to the four worlds: this world, the messianic age, the world at the time of the revival of the dead, and the world to come. •Reader: The Maharal says: They refer to the four matriarchs, Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel, and Leah •Reader: The Abarbanel says: They refer to the four redemptions of the Jewish people: the choosing of Abraham, the Exodus from Egypt, survival during the Diaspora, and the final redemption to come. •Questioner:  What other reasons are there? (discussion)   Red or White?  

•Reader:  Traditionally, Ashkenazi Jews drank white wine at the Seder, while Sephardic Jews drank red wine. 

•Reader:  During the Middle Ages,  Jews in Christian countries were accused of drinking human blood at the Seder (the “blood libel”).  To avoid even the appearance of this, Ashkenazi Jews switched to white wine.   Kiddush  

•Reader:  You have called us for service from among the peoples, and have hallowed our lives with commandments. In love you have given us festivals for rejoicing, seasons of celebration, this Festival of Matzah, the time of our freedom, a commemoration of the Exodus from Egypt. Praised are you, Adonai, who gave us this joyful heritage.

•Everyone: Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Meleh ha-olam borei p’ri ha-gafen •Reader: We praise You, O God, Sovereign of Existence, Who creates the fruit of the vine.