Welcome, one and all, to the Smith College Jewish Community Passover Seder 2018! Chag pesach sameach and shabbat shalom (happy passover and a restful shabbat)! We hope this seder provides opportunities for comfort, growth, and inspiration. We welcome you into this vibrant community and hope that each of you find spiritual and/or personal meaning in our shared rituals.

Tonight, let's experience the joy of tradition and tradition of joy in celebrating our liberation from enslavement in Mitzrayim, which literally means the narrow place. In the spirit of the Exdous, we will discuss our vision for a liberated, just, and peaceful world. Inspired by the fearless actions of some leaders and many everyday heroes, and specifically the DACA Rally: Jewish Community and Dreamers Stand Together held last month at Northampton City Hall, we will focus on the imperative of immigrant rights. We stand with youth activists from Northampton, Parkland, and all across the country and world fighting for justice.

While seder literally means order, our Haggadah is not static. It is the product of inspiration from SCJC, other Haggadot, the feelings of our own hearts, and is open to further growth and interpretation. 

Please enjoy questioning, listening, singing, and, of course, eating!

-Sarah Biskowitz, Eden Glaser, and Hunter Myers

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,

With conquering limbs astride from land to land;

Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame

Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name

Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand

Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command

The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she

With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

Emma Lazarus's famous lines captured the nation's imagination and continues to shape the way we think about immigration and freedom today. Written in 1883, her celebrated poem, "The New Colossus," is engraved on a plaque in the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty. Over the years, the sonnet has become part of American culture, inspiring everything from an Irving Berlin show tune to a call for immigrants' rights.

Lazarus grew up in a wealthy, Sephardic family who were descendants of America's first Jewish settlers. One of the first successful Jewish American authors, Lazarus was part of the late nineteenth century New York literary elite and was recognized in her day as an important American poet. In her later years, she wrote bold, powerful poetry and essays protesting the rise of antisemitism, Zionism, and arguing for Russian immigrants' rights.

As a Jewish American woman, Emma Lazarus faced the challenge of belonging to two often conflicting worlds. As a woman she dealt with unequal treatment in both. The difficult experiences lent power and depth to her work. At the same time, her complicated identity has obscured her place in American culture.

Social Justice Blessing

ברוך אתה יי אלהינו מלך העולם אשר קדשנו במצותיו וצונו לרדוף צדק

Baruch atah Adonai, eloheinu Melekh ha-olam, asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tsivanu lirdof tzedek

Brucha Yah Shechinah, eloheinu Malkat ha-olam, asher kid’shatnu b’mitzvotayha vitzivatnu lirdof tzedek

Blessed is the Source, who shows us paths to holiness, and commands us to pursue justice. (Love and Justice In Times of War Haggadah)

Shehechiyanu

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ מֶֽלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם שֶׁהֶחֱיָנוּ וְקִיְּמָנוּ וְהִגִּיעָנוּ לזְּמַן הַזֶּה.

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech haolam,
shehechehyanu, v'kiy'manu, v'higianu laz'man hazeh.

Blessed is the Source, who shows us paths to holiness, Who has given us the gifts of life and strength and enabled us to reach this moment of joy.

When drinking the four cups and eating the matzah, we lean on our left side to accentuate the fact that we are free people. In ancient times only free people had the luxury of reclining while eating. We ask that this year you consider what it means to recline when so many are not yet free from oppression. This is not a simple question, and so there is no simple answer. In solidarity, you may choose not to recline. Or perhaps we can rest tonight in order to let go of the weight of our fears — our fear of others; of being visible as Jews; of committing to work outside of what is familiar and comfortable. We lean, perhaps not recline, to better understand the work that lies ahead.

The Hebrew word “Kiddush” means sanctification. But it is not the wine we sanctify. Instead, the wine is a symbol of the sanctity, the preciousness, and the sweetness of this moment. Held together by sacred bonds of family, friendship, peoplehood, we share this table tonight with one another and with all the generations who have come before us. Let us rise, and sanctify this singular moment.

HOW? We will drink four cups of wine at the Seder in celebration of our freedom. (Grape juice is fine too.) We stand, recite the blessing, and enjoy the first cup. L'chaim!

The blessing praises God for creating the "fruit of the vine." We recite the blessing, not over the whole grape, but over wine — squeezed and fermented through human skill. So, too, the motzee blessing is recited not over sheaves of wheat but over bread, leavened or unleavened, ground and kneaded and prepared by human hands. The blessing is over the product cultivated through human and divine cooperation: We bless the gifts of sun, seed and soil transformed by wisdom and purpose to sustain the body and rejoice the soul. (VBS)

ברוך אתה יי אלהינו מלך העולם, בורא פרי הגפן! ברוך אתה יי אלהינו מלך העולם, אשר בחר בנו מכל עם ורוממנו מכל לשון, וקדשנו במצותיו. ותתן לנו יי אלהינו באהבה מועדים לשמחה, חגים וזמנים לששון, את יום חג המצות הזה, זמן חרותנו מקרא קדש, זכר ליציאת מצרים. כי בנו בחרת ואותנו קדשת מכל העמים, ומיעדי קדשך בשמחה ובששון הנחלתנו. ברוך אתה יי, מקדש ישראל והזמנים

Baruch ata Adonai, Elohaynoo melech ha-olam, boray pree ha-gafen. Baruch atah Adonai, Elohynoo melech ha- olam, asher bachar banoo meekol am, v’romemanoo meekol lashon, v’keedshanoo b’meetzvotav. Va’teetayn lanoo Adonai Elohaynoo b’bahava, mo’adeem lsimcha, chageem oo-z’maneem l’sason. Et yom chag ha-matzot ha-zeh,

z’man chayrootaynoo, meekra kodesh, zecher leetzeeyat Meetzrayeem. Kee vanoo vacharta, v’otanoo keed- ashta meekol ha- ameem. Oo’mo’adday kodsheh’cha b’seemcha oo-v’sason heen’chaltanoo. Barcuch ata Adonai m’kadesh Yisrael v’ha-z’maneem.

Praised are You, Lord our God, Whose presence fills the universe. Who creates the fruit of the vine. Praised are You, Lord our God, Whose presence fills the universe, Who has called us for service

from among the peoples of the world, sanctifying our lives with Your commandments. In love, You have given us festivals for rejoicing and seasons of celebration, this Festival of Matzot, the time of our freedom, a commemoration of the Exodus from Egypt.
Praised are You, Lord, Who gave us this joyful heritage and Who sanctifies Israel and the festivals.

זרוע – Z’roa: a shankbone or beet, which represents the mighty hand and outstretched arm that liberated us from Mitzrayim.

Jewish tradition teaches us that we are God’s partners in the continual act of creating a more just world in which all human beings are treated with dignity and compassion. As we recall the strength that God extended to the Jewish people in the season of our escape from oppression, we extend our arms to embrace those in our world still experiencing persecution because of who they are. (Source: Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society Haggadah Supplement 2018) 

מרור - Maror: horseradish, which represents the bitterness of slavery in Mitzrayim.

חזרת – Chazeret: also a bitter herb, in our case collard greens.

חרוסת – Charoset: a mixture of dried fruits and nuts, which represents the mortar used to lay bricks, the work done while enslaved in Mitzrayim.

קפה - Kafe: coffee beans, which represent the bitterness of modern slavery, through forced migrant labor, bonded labor, slavery, human trafficking, sex trafficking, and child labor.

ביצה – Beitzah: an egg, which represents life, wholeness, and liberation.

כרפס – Karpas: parsley, which represents growth, change, and life.

מי מלח – Salt Water: which represents our tears while enslaved, and our tenacity and chutzpah in fighting for liberation.

תפוז – Tapuz: an orange was originally added to the seder plate by Dr. Susannah Heschel in the 1980s to represent gender and sexual equality and justice for women and lesbians.

The olive branch is a universal symbol of peace, associated with the dove in the story of Noah's Ark and the Flood.

Olive trees mature slowly, so only when there was an extended time of peace, with agriculture left undisturbed, could the olive tree produce its fruit. In 2008, 3,000 olive saplings were donated to Palestinian farmers to replant trees torn down to make room for settlements in the West Bank. This year, we have olives on our seder plate to remind us that not only are we not free until everyone is free, but we are not free until there is peace in our homes, in our community and in our world. (Sue Fishkoff, JTA)

יי עז לעמו יתן, יי יברך את עמו בשלום

Adonai oz l’amo yitein, Adonai yivarech v’et amo v’shalom.

God give strength to our people, God bless our people with peace.

ברוך אתה יי אלהינו מלך העולם, בורא פרי העץ

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha’olam, borei p’ri ha’eitz.

Blessed are you, Adonai, who gives us the fruit of the tree.

*bold indicates items not traditionally on the Seder Plate

In the early 1980s, the Hillel Foundation invited me to speak on a panel at Oberlin College. While on campus, I came across a Haggada that had been written by some Oberlin students to express feminist concerns. One ritual they devised was placing a crust of bread on the Seder plate, as a sign of solidarity with Jewish lesbians ("there's as much room for a lesbian in Judaism as there is for a crust of bread on the Seder plate").

At the next Passover, I placed an orange on our family's Seder plate. During the first part of the Seder, I asked everyone to take a segment of the orange, make the blessing over fruit, and eat it as a gesture of solidarity with Jewish lesbians and gay men, and others who are marginalized within the Jewish community (I mentioned widows in particular).

Bread on the Seder plate brings an end to Pesach - it renders everything chometz. And its symbolism suggests that being lesbian is being transgressive, violating Judaism. I felt that an orange was suggestive of something else: the fruitfulness for all Jews when lesbians and gay men are contributing and active members of Jewish life. In addition, each orange segment had a few seeds that had to be spit out - a gesture of spitting out, repudiating the homophobia that poisons too many Jews.

When lecturing, I often mentioned my custom as one of many new feminist rituals that had been developed in the last twenty years. Somehow, though, the typical patriarchal maneuver occurred: My idea of an orange and my intention of affirming lesbians and gay men were transformed. Now the story circulates that a MAN stood up after I lecture I delivered and said to me, in anger, that a woman belongs on the bimah as much as an orange on the Seder plate. My idea, a woman's words, are attributed to a man, and the affirmation of lesbians and gay men is simply erased. Isn't that precisely what's happened over the centuries to women's ideas?

Susannah Heschel, April, 2001
Eli Black Professor of Jewish Studies Dartmouth College

In lighting the candles at dusk we symbolize the end of an ordinary day and the beginning of an extra-ordinary ritual, a moment which reminds us of the first day of creation.

ברוך אתה יי אלהינו מלך העולם אשר קדשנו במצותין וציונו להדליק נר של שבת ויום טוב

Brucha Yah Shechinah, eloheinu Malkat ha-olam, asher kid’shatnu b’mitzvotayha vitzivatnu l’hadlik ner shel (Shabbat v’) Yom Tov. (Ashkenazi pronunciation, fem.)

Baruch atah Adonai, eloheinu Melekh ha-olam, asher kid-shatnu b’mitzvotav v’tsivanu l’hadlik ner shel (Shabbat v’) Yom Tov. (Ashkenazi pronunciation, masc.)

We bless the Source of all existence, who shows us paths to holiness, and inspires us to kindle the (Shabbat and) festival lights.

This symbolic washing of the hands recalls the story of Miriam's Well. Legend tells us that this well followed Miriam, sister of Moses, through the desert, sustaining the Jews in their wanderings. Filled with mayim chayim, waters of life, the well was a source of strength and renewal to all who drew from it. One drink from its waters was said to alert the heart, mind and soul, and make the meaning of Torah become alive.

In Hebrew, urchatz means “washing” or “cleansing.” In Aramaic, sister language to Hebrew, urchatz means “trusting.” As we wash each others’ hands, let us rejoice in this act of trust, while remembering the lack of trust between those in Flint, California and Cochabamba and those who supply and control their access to mayim chayim - living waters.

Pass the bowl & pitcher around the table, pouring a few drops of water onto your neighbor’s hands. Alternately, symbolize the uplifting of cleansed hands by raising hands into the air. 

Optional chant for handwashing: 

פֶלֶג אֱלֹהִים מָלֵא מַיִם / מַיִם חַיִּים 

Peleg elohim, malei mayyim /Mayyim chayyim

Fountain of God, full of water /waters of life!

—Rabbi Shefa Gold

Miriam’s Cup

Reader 1: The story has always been told of a miraculous well of living water which has accompanied the Jewish people since the world was spoken into being. The well comes and goes, as it is needed, and as we remember, forget, and remember again how to call it to us. In the time of the exodus from Mitzrayim, the well came to Miriam, in honor of her courage and action, and stayed with the Jews as they wandered the desert. Upon Miriam’s death, the well again disappeared.

Reader 2: With this ritual of Miriam’s cup, we honor all Jewish women, transgender, genderqueer, intersex people whose histories have been erased. We commit ourselves to transforming all of our cultures into loving welcoming spaces for people of all genders and sexes.

Reader 3: Tonight we remember Miriam and ask: Who on own journey has been a way-station for us? Who has encouraged our thirst for knowledge? Who sings with joy at our accomplishments?

Reader 4: Let us each go around and name an act of courage or resistance you have seen from another, and pour water into the communal cup until it overflows. 

And the women dancing with their timbrels
Followed Miriam as she sang her song
Sing a song to the One whom we've exalted
Miriam and the women danced and danced the whole night long
And Miriam was a weaver of unique variety
The tapestry she wove was one which sang our history
With every strand and every thread she crafted her delight
A woman touched with spirit, she dances toward the light

When Miriam stood upon the shores and gazed across the sea
The wonder of this miracle she soon came to believe
Whoever thought the sea would part with an outstretched hand
And we would pass to freedom and march to the promised land

And Miriam the prophet took her timbrel in her hand
And all the women followed her just as she had planned
And Miriam raised her voice in song
She sang with praise and might
We've just lived through a miracle
We're going to dance tonight

Long before the struggle upward begins, there is tremor in the seed. Self-protection cracks, roots reach down and grab hold. The seed swells, and tender shoots push up toward light. This is karpas: spring awakening growth. A force so tough it can break stone. 

Why do we dip karpas into salt water? At the beginning of this season of rebirth and growth, we recall the tears of our ancestors, friends and neighbors in bondage. And why should salt water be touched by karpas?  To remind us that tears stop. Even after pain. Spring comes. 

ברוך אתה יי אלוהינו מלך העולם בורא פרי האדמה

Baruch atah adonai, eloneinu melech ha'olam, boreh p'ri ha'adamah! (Ashkenazi pronunciation, masc.)

Barucha Yah Shechina, Eloheinu Malkat ha'olam, borayt pri ha'adamah. (Ashkenazi prononciation, fem.)

Blessed are you, source of goodness and challenge, who brings forth fruits from the earth!!

We take this time to honor others who travel with us from other faiths and cultural traditions. We acknowledge the fact that they bring a new perspective to our lives and a legacy of their own that enriches ours. We are grateful for the growth that we have experienced because they are in our lives. Weeding out all that is not necessary and loving, we make room for fresh insight and respect. We welcome those who sit around this table for the first time or the twentieth, bringing new understanding to our discussion. 

YACHATZ ~ Breaking of the Middle Matzah

Reader 1: Take the three matzot and break the middle one in 2 pieces Place the smaller piece of matzah between the two whole matzot. This small piece is called the lechem oni, the bread of affliction. Place the larger half, known as the Afikomen, in a large cloth or napkin, and set it aside. There are many different traditions: Syrian Jews break the matzah in the shape of the two Hebrew letters, a Daleth (numeric value of 4), and Vav (numeric value of 6) to total 10 (the ten kabbalistic sefirot). Uncover the matzah and raise it for all to see.

Reader 2: Matzah is called “the bread of affliction.” When we eat matzah during Passover, we are reminded of the plight of our ancestors who were forced to leave Egypt so quickly they did not even have time to let their bread rise. During the seder we break the matzah in half. We then hide one half away and keep one half before us on the seder plate so that as we tell the story of our affliction, we look at a visible symbol of that affliction. For many immigrants today, the middle matzah may symbolize families divided between their home countries and the United States, or families divided by detentions and deportations mandated by a broken U.S. immigration system.

Reader 3: As long as anyone in the world is afflicted, none of us can be whole. Yet the middle matzah is not just a symbol of despair. Half of the matzah is hidden away, and our meal cannot end until it has been found and enjoyed by every guest at the seder. For although our lot may be a half-loaf and a broken world, as long as we seek justice and freedom for all, hope remains.

Share with a partner: What edges do you need to bless tonight? How do our edges relate to and blessings reach others in SCJC? At Smith? In America? In the world?

This is the Bread of Affliction - Ha Lachma Anya

Reader 1: In America, over 11 million undocumented immigrants live in our midst.We identify with their struggles from our memory as Jews freed from Egyptian servitude, and as Americans living in a country built by immigrants. As we look upon the broken middle matzah before us, this is our story - an immigrant story -- in three parts: Memory, Action, Vision.

Memory

All read: Ha lachma anya -- this is the bread of poverty and affliction that our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt.

Reader 2: We remember our ancestors’ fear and bravery in facing the new unknown, filled with dangers and opportunities. Through the ritual retelling of our ancient enslavement and exile, we reaffirm our commitment to our own past and to our fight for justice for all people who have been excluded, expatriated, or expelled. We retell the story of the exodus to our children and to our grandchildren so that they, too, will understand the pain of slavery, the value of freedom, and the struggles of migration.

Action

All read: Let all who are hungry come and eat. Let all who are in need, come and share this Pesach meal.

Reader:The Seder demands action! Our narrative as Jews is very much one of displacement, of having to flee, of wandering. In our texts, in our family histories, we find exodus, movement, the search for a home. We are instructed by our history, which commands us 36 times to love, protect, and respect those new to our communities. Our faith compels us to support unions, to advocate for a living wage, and to make visible the invisible labor we take for granted every day.

Vision

All read: This year we are still here, in Mitzrayim This year we are still slaves - and next year we will be free people.

Reader: This year undocumented immigrants still live in fear in the shadows of a broken immigration system. Next year may over 11 million aspiring Americans step into the light of freedom and walk the path towards citizenship. This year, our eyes are still clouded by the plague of darkness, as the Gerer Rav taught: “The darkness in Egypt was so dense that people could not see one another. This was not a physical darkness, but a spiritual darkness in which people were unable to see the plight and pain of their neighbors.” Next year, may we replace darkness with light and truly see our neighbors and be moved to act with them to fix our broken immigration system. May we be blessed with the vision and chutzpah (courage) to stand with undocumented workers, invisible laborers, and new immigrants.

הָא לַחְמָא עַנְיָא דִּי אֲכָלוּ אַבְהָתָנָא בְאַרְעָא דְמִצְרָיִם.

כָּל דִכְפִין יֵיתֵי וְיֵיכֹל, כָּל דִצְרִיךְ יֵיתֵי וְיִפְסַח.

הָשַּׁתָּא הָכָא, לְשָׁנָה הַבָּאָה בְּאַרְעָא דְיִשְׂרָאֵל.

הָשַּׁתָּא עַבְדֵי, לְשָׁנָה הַבָּאָה בְּנֵי חוֹרִין.

Ha lachma anya di achalu avahatana b'ara d'Mitzrayim. Kal dichfin yeitei v'yeichul. Kal ditzrich yeitei v'yifsach. Hashata hacha, l'shanah haba'ah b'ara d'Yisrael. Hashata avdei. L'shana haba'ah b'nei chorin.

This is the bread of anya that our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt.

Anyone who is famished should come and eat, anyone who needs should come and partake of the Pesach sacrifice.

Now we are here, next year we will be in the land of Israel;

This year we are slaves, next year we will be free people.

The Exodus: A Story In Eight Short Chapters
1. Once upon a time our people went into exile in the land of Egypt. During a famine our ancestor Jacob and his family fled to Egypt where food was plentiful. His son Joseph had risen to high position in Pharaoh’s court, and our people were well respected and well-regarded, secure in the power structure of the time.

2. Generations passed and our people remained in Egypt. In time, a new Pharaoh ascended to the throne. He found our difference threatening, and ordered our people enslaved.

3. In fear of rebellion, Pharaoh decreed that all Hebrew boy-children be killed. Two midwives named Shifrah and Puah defied his orders, claiming that “the Hebrew women are so hardy, they give birth before we arrive!” Through their courage, a boy survived; midrash tells us he was radiant with light.

4. Fearing for his safety, his family placed him in a basket and he floated down the Nile. He was found, and adopted, by Pharaoh’s daughter, who named him Moshe because min ha-mayim m’shitihu, from the water she drew him forth. She hired his mother Yocheved as his wet-nurse. Thus he survived to adulthood, and was raised as Prince of Egypt.

5. Although a child of privilege, as he grew he became aware of the slaves who worked in the brickyards of his father. When he saw an overseer mistreat a slave, he struck the overseer and killed him. Fearing retribution, he set out across the Sinai alone.
God spoke to him from a burning bush, which though it flamed was not consumed. The Voice called him to lead the Hebrew people to freedom. Moses argued with God, pleading inadequacy, but God disagreed. Sometimes our responsibilities choose us.

6. Moses returned to Egypt and went to Pharaoh to argue the injustice of slavery. He gave Pharaoh a mandate which resounds through history: Let my people go. Pharaoh refused, and Moses warned him that Mighty God would strike the Egyptian people. These threats were not idle: ten terrible plagues were unleashed upon the Egyptians. Only when his nation lay in ruins did Pharaoh agree to our liberation.

7. Fearful that Pharaoh would change his mind, our people fled, not waiting for their bread dough to rise. (For this reason we eat unleavened bread as we take part in their journey.) Our people did not leave Egypt alone; a “mixed multitude” went with them. From this we learn that liberation is not for us alone, but for all the nations of the earth. Even Pharaoh’s daughter came with us, and traded her old title (bat-Pharaoh, daughter of Pharaoh) for the name Batya, “daughter of God.”

8. Pharaoh’s army followed us to the Sea of Reeds. We plunged into the waters. Only when we had gone as far as we could did the waters part for us. We mourn, even now, that Pharaoh’s army drowned: our liberation is bittersweet because people died in our pursuit. To this day we relive our liberation, that we may not become complacent, that we may always rejoice in our freedom.

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.

The Four Questions in Ladino:

Kuanto fue demudada la noche la esta mas ke todas las noches? Ke en todas las noches non nos entinyentes afilu vez una, i la noche la esta dos vezes? Ke en todas las noches nos comientes levdo o sesenya i la noche la esta todo el sesenya? Ke en todas las noches nos comientes resto de vedruras i la noche la esta lechugua? Ke en todas las noches nos comientes i bevientes tanto asentados i tanto arescovdados i la noche la esta todos nos arescovdados?

The Four Questions in Judeo-Arabic:

B’ma tera-yerath ha-dhee lei-la min kil l’yalee. Fee kil l’yalee les nih’na ram’seen. Lawu-noo mara wahda wa-dhee lei-la mar-ten. Fee kil l’yalee nih’na ak-leen chmeer ya f’teer. Wa-dhee lei-la ku-loo f’teer. Fee kil l’yalee nih’na ak-leen ch-dhar ya m’rar. Wa-dhee Leila ku-loo m’rar. Fee kil l’yalee nih’na ak-leen u-shar-been. Ben ka’a’deen uben min-ti-ki-yeen. Wa-dhee lei-la ki-lit-na min-ti-ki-yeen

(from "Love and Justice in Times of War" Haggadah)

One: What would it take for this community to be different from all other communities? What would it mean to commit to leaving no on behind in our exodus from the narrow places to freedom? 

Two: What is one way you can nourish/take care of yourself starting tonight? (On this night we eat matzah.) 

Three: What is one way you can make the sometimes bitter work of fighting for freedom sweeter for yourself and others? (On this night we eat maror.)

 Four: How can we/you create abundance in our work for liberation and justice? (On this night we dip twice.)

Five: When is a time when you’ve felt completely free? If you cannot think of a memory, what do you imagine when you think of complete freedom? (On this night we recline.)

The Four Daughters

The daughter in search of a usable past. Ma hi omeret ? What does she say? "Why didn't the Torah count women among the '600,000 men on foot, aside from children,' who came out of Egypt? And why did Moses say at Sinai, 'Go not near a woman,' addressing only men, as if preparation for Revelation was not meant for us, as well?" Because she already understands that Jewish memory is essential to our identity, teach her that history is made by those who tell the tale. If Torah did not name and number women, it is up to her to fill the empty spaces of our holy texts.

And the daughter who wants to erase her difference. Ma hi omeret ? What does she say? "Why must you keep pushing your women's questions into every text? And why are these women's issues so important to you?" "To you," and "not to me." Since she so easily forgets the struggles of her mothers and sisters, you must tell her the story of your own journey to the seder table and invite her to join you in thanking God for the blessing of being a Jewish woman.

And the daughter who does not know that she has a place at the table. Ma hi omeret ? What does she say? "What is this?" Because she doesn't realize that her question is, in itself, a part of the seder tradition, teach her that the Haggadah is an extended conversation about liberation, and tell her that her insights and questions are also text.

And the daughter who asks no questions? You must say to her, "Your question, when they come, will liberate you from Egypt. This is how it is and has always been with your mothers and grandmothers. From the moment Yocheved, Miriam and the midwives questioned Pharaoh's edict until today, every question we ask helps us leave Egypt farther behind."

(Tamara Cohen, Rabbi Sue Levi Elwell, and Ronnie Horn)

We would like to add a fifth child: the child that cannot and does not fit into the binary of "daughter" and "son." The child for whom the Hebrew language does not accommodate the query, What does she or he say? For this child we ask, mah l'hagid ?   What to say? The child asks, "Why must our questions be divided into he or she, man or woman?" This child asks not only to learn, but also to teach. To this child we must listen. 

Go Down Moses

Chorus: Go down, Moses

Way down in Egypt land

Tell old pharaoh to

Let my people go!

When Israel was in Egypt land

Let my people go!

Oppressed so hard they could not stand

Let my people go!

*chorus*

The Lord told Moses what to do

Let my people go

To lead the Hebrew children through

Let my people go

*chorus*

As Israel stood by the waterside

Let my people go

At God's command it did divide

Let my people go

*chorus*

Oh let us all from bondage flee

Let my people go

And let us all by God be free

Let my people go

*chorus*

___________________________________

The story of this song begins in the early days of the Civil War. In 1861, three slaves, Frank Baker, James Townsend and Sheppard Mallory, were sent to the Confederate Army to help with construction. They escaped at night and rowed across the harbor from Norfolk, Va., to Union-held Fort Monroe. They presented themselves to Union General Benjamin Butler, risking being returned to their enslavers and facing horrible punishment, as dictated by the law in effect before the war. Butler refused to return them, classifying them as “contraband of war.” Laws were soon passed prohibiting returning them to their enslavers.

The Contrabands at Fort Monroe built housing from burned ruins. Their community came to be known as Grand Contraband Camp. Defying a Virginia law against educating slaves, the African-American humanitarian Mary Peake taught both adults and children to read and write. Inspired by this opportunity for freedom (albeit partial and haphazard) many escaped and made their way to Fort Monroe. By the end of the war, less than four years later, there were many Contraband camps and thousands of Contrabands.

A song that some of the Contrabands sang when they arrived at Fort Monroe was recorded and published by a chaplain, the Rev. L.C. Lockwood, as “The Song of the Contrabands: O Let My People Go.” It was the first spiritual to gain national (i.e., white) popularity. President Lincoln visited Contraband camps frequently and on one documented occasion joined a prayer meeting and sang along, often overcome with emotion, to “Go Down Moses” and other songs.

In Waskow and Phyllis Berman’s book on the Passover story, “Freedom Journeys: The Tale of Exodus and Wilderness across Millennia,” the African-American historian Vincent Harding poignantly describes this mutual influence as Jews’ and African Americans’ “joint ownership” of the Exodus story. He writes that he is unable to approach the story without mentally hearing “Go Down Moses.”

The song made it into a Passover Haggadah as early as 1941, with The New Haggadah by Mordecai Kaplan, Eugene Kohn and Ira Eisenstein.

In 1969 Arthur Waskow designed the “Freedom Seder,” an event and a Haggadah to make explicit the connection in reverse, ritually connecting our Passover story to American slavery, the struggle for civil rights and our present-day obligations to end oppression.

• Excerpted and edited for formatting from Aurora Mendelsohn’s article on “Go Down Moses” in the Jewish Daily Forward, April 2011

In the Jewish tradition, Moses is the highest example of a leader. Many have been compared to him. A Hasidic tale urges us not to compare ourselves to Moses. In the tale, Rabbi Zusya tells his students that when he leaves this life and arrives in the World to Come, he will not be asked, “Why were you not Moses?” but rather, “Why were you not Zusya?”

Freedom. It isn’t once, to walk out
under the Milky Way, feeling the rivers
of light, the fields of dark—
freedom is daily, prose-bound, routine
remembering. Putting together, inch by inch
the starry worlds. From all the lost collections.

Adrienne Rich

1. Once upon a time our people went into exile in the land of Egypt. During a famine our ancestor Jacob and his family fled to Egypt where food was plentiful. His son Joseph had risen to high position in Pharaoh’s court, and our people were well-respected and well-regarded, secure in the power structure of the time.

2. Generations passed and our people remained in Egypt. In time, a new Pharaoh ascended to the throne. He found our difference threatening, and ordered our people enslaved. In fear of rebellion, Pharaoh decreed that all Hebrew boy-children be killed. Two midwives named Shifrah and Puah defied his orders, claiming that “the Hebrew women are so hardy, they give birth before we arrive!” Through their courage, a boy survived; midrash tells us he was radiant with light. Fearing for his safety, his family placed him in a basket and he floated down the Nile. He was found, and adopted, by Pharaoh’s daughter, who named him Moshe because min ha-mayim m’shitihu, from the water she drew him forth. She hired his mother Yocheved as his wet-nurse. Thus he survived to adulthood, and was raised as Prince of Egypt.

3. Although a child of privilege, as he grew he became aware of the slaves who worked in the brickyards of his father. When he saw an overseer mistreat a slave, he struck the overseer and killed him. Fearing retribution, he set out across the Sinai alone. God spoke to him from a burning bush, which though it flamed was not consumed. The Voice called him to lead the Hebrew people to freedom. Moses argued with God, pleading inadequacy, but God disagreed. Sometimes our responsibilities choose us.

4. Moses returned to Egypt and went to Pharaoh to argue the injustice of slavery. He gave Pharaoh a mandate which resounds through history: Let my people go. Pharaoh refused, and Moses warned him that Mighty God would strike the Egyptian people. These threats were not idle: ten terrible plagues were unleashed upon the Egyptians. Only when his nation lay in ruins did Pharaoh agree to our liberation.

5. Fearful that Pharaoh would change his mind, our people fled, not waiting for their bread dough to rise. (For this reason we eat unleavened bread as we take part in their journey.) Our people did not leave Egypt alone; a “mixed multitude” went with them. From this we learn that liberation is not for us alone, but for all the nations of the earth. Even Pharaoh’s daughter came with us, and traded her old title (bat-Pharaoh, daughter of Pharaoh) for the name Batya, “daughter of God.”

6. Pharaoh’s army followed us to the Sea of Reeds. We plunged into the waters. Only when we had gone as far as we could did the waters part for us. We mourn, even now, that Pharaoh’s army drowned: our liberation is bittersweet because people died in our pursuit.

7. To this day we relive our liberation, that we may not become complacent, that we may always rejoice in our freedom.

The Four Daughters

The daughter in search of a usable past. Ma hi omeret ? What does she say? "Why didn't the Torah count women among the '600,000 men on foot, aside from children,' who came out of Egypt? And why did Moses say at Sinai, 'Go not near a woman,' addressing only men, as if preparation for Revelation was not meant for us, as well?" Because she already understands that Jewish memory is essential to our identity, teach her that history is made by those who tell the tale. If Torah did not name and number women, it is up to her to fill the empty spaces of our holy texts.

And the daughter who wants to erase her difference. Ma hi omeret ? What does she say? "Why must you keep pushing your women's questions into every text? And why are these women's issues so important to you?" "To you," and "not to me." Since she so easily forgets the struggles of her mothers and sisters, you must tell her the story of your own journey to the seder table and invite her to join you in thanking God for the blessing of being a Jewish woman.

And the daughter who does not know that she has a place at the table. Ma hi omeret ? What does she say? "What is this?" Because she doesn't realize that her question is, in itself, a part of the seder tradition, teach her that the Haggadah is an extended conversation about liberation, and tell her that her insights and questions are also text.

And the daughter who asks no questions? You must say to her, "Your question, when they come, will liberate you from Egypt. This is how it is and has always been with your mothers and grandmothers. From the moment Yocheved, Miriam and the midwives questioned Pharaoh's edict until today, every question we ask helps us leave Egypt farther behind."

(Tamara Cohen, Rabbi Sue Levi Elwell, and Ronnie Horn)

We would like to add a fifth child: the child that cannot and does not fit into the binary of "daughter" and "son." The child for whom the Hebrew language does not accommodate the query, What does she or he say? For this child we ask, mah l'hagid ?   What to say? The child asks, "Why must our questions be divided into he or she, man or woman?" This child asks not only to learn, but also to teach. To this child we must listen. 

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

Tonight, we must also acknowledge the struggles of our neighbors in humanity. Just as we were once a refugee population after we were freed from Egypt, so too are members of these nations outcasted in our own time and in our country. We understand the struggle of living under a tyrant and the oppression of an innocent people both as a result of Jewish enslavement in Egypt and in more modern waves of immigration and expulsions.

Please join us in removing a drop from your glass in recognition of the people banned from migrating to the US from each of the following countries:

• Sudan
• Iraq
• Chad
• Iran
• Libya
• North Korea
• Somalia
• Syria
• Venezuela
• Yemen

Ancient Plague: Blood
Modern Plague:Upheaval and Oppression in Home Countries

Ancient Plague: Frogs
Modern Plague: Poor Access to Education

Ancient Plague: Lice
Modern Plague:Language Access Barriers

Ancient Plague: Wild Beasts
Modern Plague:Wage Theft

Ancient Plague: Pestilence
Modern Plague:Unemployment

Ancient Plague: Boils
Modern Plague:Fear of Law Enforcement

Ancient Plague: Hail
Modern Plague:Housing Obstacles

Ancient Plague: Locusts
Modern Plague:Racism and Racial Profiling

Ancient Plague: Darkness
Modern Plague:Inability to Secure Documentation
 

Ancient Plague: Slaying of the Firstborn
Modern Plague:Separation of Families
 

In Hopes of Freedom From Abuse For All

Author unknown. Adapted by Hannah Litman and Rachel Novick. CW: Abuse

Sometimes, we cannot say Dayenu.
We have the right to say, “No, this is not enough, I will not settle for this.”

Sometimes, we wish we could say Dayenu. What would be enough?

When we can make choices about our own bodies, our own identities, and our own lives,

Dayenu

When courts, law enforcement and mental health professionals stop blaming the survivor,
Dayenu

When the Jewish community protects abuse survivors,

Dayenu

When our voices are listened to and believed without judgment or question,

Dayenu

When money and power can no longer protect abusers,

Dayenu

When the community focuses on stopping the abusers instead of blaming us for staying,

Dayenu

When Jewish law and secular law can guarantee our right to safety,

Dayenu

When every person can find true shalom bayit (peace in the home),

Dayenu

When anyone who is in danger can also be in safety,

Dayenu

Dayenu means “it would have sufficed” or “we would have been satisfied.” Perhaps “grateful” would be a better translation. Dayenu is the song of our gratitude. A Jewish philosopher was once asked, “what is the opposite of hopelessness?” And he said, “Dayenu,” the ability to be thankful for what we have received, for what we are. The first prayer that a Jew is expected to recite upon waking expresses hir gratitude for being alive. This holds for all generations, and surely ours. For each of us, every day should be an act of grace, every hour a miraculous offering.

In many Sephardi and Mizrahi communities, the singing of Dayenu is accompanied by beating each other with leeks or scallions. Using bunches of scallions or leeks, Seder participants beat each other (lightly) on the back and shoulders to symbolize the taskmasters whip.

אִלּוּ הוֹצִיאָנוּ מִמִּצְרָיִם

דַּיֵּנוּ

אִלּוּ נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת הַשַּׁבָּת

דַּיֵּנוּ

אִלּוּ נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת הַתּוֹרָה

דַּיֵּנוּ

Ilu hotzi hotzianu hotzianu mi’mitzrayim Hotzianu mi’mitzrayim dayenu

(If you had only brought us out of Mitzrayim – Dayenu!)

Dai-dai-yenu, Dai-dai-yenu, Dai-dai-yenu Dai-yenu, Dai-yenu!

Ilu natan natan lanu natan lanu et ha'shabbat Natan lanu et ha'shabbat dayenu

(If you had only given us Shabbat – Dayenu!)

Dai-dai-yenu, Dai-dai-yenu, Dai-dai-yenu Dai-yenu, Dai-yenu! Ilu natan natan lanu natan lanu et ha'torah Natan lanu et ha'torah dayenu

(If you had only given us the Torah – Dayenu!)

Dai-dai-yenu, Dai-dai-yenu, Dai-dai-yenu Dai-yenu, Dai-yenu

A Cup to our Teachers: To those we have known and those whose work has inspired us, and made space for our lives. We are grateful to you who did and said things for the first time, who claimed and reclaimed our traditions, who forged new tools. Thank you to the teachers around us of all ages-- the people we encounter everyday--who live out their values in small and simple ways, and who are our most regular and loving reminders of the world we are creating together. (Love and Justice Haggadah)

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הַגָּפֶן

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

We thank a higher power, shaper and maker, who creates the fruit of the vine.

Drink the second glass of wine!

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. 

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’tsivanu al n’tilat yadayim (Ashkenazi pronunciation, masc.) 

Brucha Yah Shechinah, eloheinu Malkat ha-olam, asher kid’shatnu b’mitzvotayha v’tzivatnu al n’tilat yadayim. (Ashkenazi pronunciation,fem.)

Barouch ata Adonai eloheinu Melech ha-olam asher kid-sha-nu bemis-wo-thaw we-see-wanu al ni-tee-lath ya-da-yeem. (Iraqi pronunciation,masc.)

בְָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ מֶֽלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, הַמּוֹצִיא לֶֽחֶם מִן הָאָֽרֶץ:

Barouch ata Adonai, eloheinu Melech ha-olam ha-mosee le-hem min haares. (Iraqi pronunciation,masc.)

Baruch atah Adonai, eloheinu Melech ha-olam ha-motzi lechem min ha-aretz. (Ashkenazi pronunciation, masc.)

Brucha Yah Shechinah, eloheinu Malkat ha-olam ha-motzi lechem min ha-aretz. (Ashkenazi pronunciation, fem.)

Blessed are You, Compassionte One, who has given us the blessing of eating this matzah.

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ מֶֽלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, אֲשֶׁר קִדְּשָֽׁנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתַָיו וְצִוָּֽנוּ עַל אֲכִילַת מַצָּה:

Barouch ata Adonai eloheinu melech ha-olam asher kid-sha-nu bemis-wo-thaw we-see-wanu al achee-lath massa. (Iraqi pronunciation,masc.)

Baruch atah Adonai, eloheinu Melech ha-olam asher kid-shanu bmitzvotav vitzivanu al akhilat matzah. (Ashkenazi pronunciation, masc.)

Brucha Yah Shechinah, eloheinu Malkat ha-olam asher kid-shatnu b’mitzvotayha vitzivatnu al akhilat matzah. (Ashkenazi pronunciation,fem.)

Blessed are You, Sustainer of all Life, who brings forth bread from the earth.

Feed some matzah to the person to your right. All eat while reclining.

With the taste of bitterness just before our lips, we remind ourselves of the bitterness that led to the enslavement of our ancestors in Egypt. Tonight, we force ourselves to experience the stinging pain of the maror so that we should remember that, appallingly, even centuries later, the bitterness of xenophobia still oppresses millions of people around the world, forcing them to flee their homes. As we taste the bitter herbs, we vow not to let words of hatred pass through our own lips and to root out intolerant speech wherever we may hear it, so that no one should fall victim to baseless hatred

We now take some maror and charoset and put them between two pieces of matzah and give the sandwich to the person on our left. In doing this, we recall our sage Hillel (head of the Sanhedrin, the supreme council of Yisrael, 1st century B.C.E.) who, in remembrance of the loss of the Temple, created the Korech sandwich. He said that by eating the Korech, we would taste the bitterness of slavery mixed with the sweetness of freedom. This practice suggests that part of the challenge of living is to taste freedom even in the midst of oppression, and to be ever conscious of the oppression of others even when we feel that we are free.

Together we say: 

If I am not for myself, who will be for me?

But if I am for myself only, what am I?

And if not now, when?        (Hillel)

And if not with others, how?     (Adrienne Rich)

In some Ashkenazi traditions, the Afikomen is hidden during the meal, for the ‘children’ to find later. This ceremony reminds us that what is broken can be repaired and that what is lost can be regained, as long as we remember it and search for it

A Cup to Ourselves, to all of us who are at this seder tonight, to the present moment.

We must love ourselves, for we are holy, and we have been created out of all that is. Let us take this moment to honor our bodies, our lives, and our communities. Let us honor all the things that have made us who we are- the pain and the pleasure. Let us savor our bodies in all their uniqueness: our skins and our bones, all of our different strengths and sizes, the places that look and move in ways unique to us.

Note the places that hurt, the places we struggle with, the places that are changing and unfurling. Note the parts that have come down to us from our ancestors, the parts we have been taught to hate, the parts we have been taught to love. We are beautiful. Let us never forget that caring for ourselves, as we would care for our most precious and beloved, is part of creating the world we want to live in.

Meditation: Bring to mind something which sustains you either spiritually or physically. Then imagine what sustains it, and offer that your praises.

(from "Love and Justice in Times of War" Haggadah)

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הַגָּפֶן

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

We thank a higher power, shaper and maker, who creates the fruit of the vine.

Drink the third glass of wine!

In this moment we lift up our voices in gratitude for this meal, for the community we have surrounded ourselves with, and the opportunity to do the work of justice. For vision, history and tradition, storytelling, this shared meal, and us, this community here today - the mixed multitude - gathered in the essential work of collective liberation, we give thanks.

בריך רחמנא מלכא דעלמא מריה דהאי פיתא

Brich rachamana malka d'alma ma'arey d'hai pita

You are the source of life for all that is and your blessing flows through me 

And now we eat!

What else does the afikomen hunt teach?

It teaches that finding requires seeking.

That seeking, in and of itself, is worthwhile and fun.

That discovering new meaning demands that we keep looking.

That we can’t bring anything to a satisfying conclusion without the patience and persistence needed to get there.

Rabbi David Wirtschafter

Gathered around the Seder table, we pour four cups, remembering the gift of freedom that our ancestors received centuries ago. We delight in our liberation from Pharaoh’s oppression.

We drink four cups for four promises fulfilled.

The first cup as God said, “I will free you from the labors of the Egyptians.”

The second as God said, “And I will deliver you from their bondage.”

The third as God said, “I will redeem you with an outstretched arm and with great judgments.”

The fourth because God said, “I will take you to be My People.”

We know, though, that all are not yet free. As we welcome Elijah the Prophet into our homes, we offer a fifth cup, a cup not yet consumed.

This cup for the 60 million refugees and displaced people around the world still waiting to be free — from the refugee camps in Chad to the cities and towns of Ukraine, for the Syrian refugees still waiting to be delivered from the hands of tyrants, for the thousands of asylum seekers in the United States still waiting in detention for redemption to come, for all those who yearn to be taken in not as strangers but as fellow human beings.

This Passover, let us walk in the footsteps of the One who delivered us from bondage. When we rise from our Seder tables, may we be emboldened to take action on behalf of the world’s refugees, hastening Elijah’s arrival as we speak out on behalf of those who are not yet free.

אֵלִיָּֽהוּ הַנָּבִיא, אֵלִיָּֽהוּ הַתִּשְׁבִּי,

אֵלִיָּֽהוּ, 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.

Pour the third cup of wine and recite Birkat Hamazon (Blessing after the Meal).

שִׁיר הַמַּעֲלוֹת:בְּשׁוּב יהוה אֶת־שִׁיבַת צִיּוֹן הָיִ֫ינוּ כְּחֹלְמִים. אָז יִמָּלֵא שְׂחוֹק פִּינוּ וּלְשׁוֹנֵנוּ רִנָּה, אָז יֹאמְרוּ בַגּוֹיִם, הִגְדִּיל יְיָ לַעֲשׂוֹת עִם אֵלֶּה. הִגְדִּיל יְיָ לַעֲשׂוֹת עִמָּנוּ, הָיִינוּ שְׂמֵחִים. שׁוּבָה יְיָ אֶת שְׁבִיתֵנוּ, כַּאֲפִיקִים בַּנֶּגֶב. הַזֹּרְעִים בְּדִמְעָה בְּרִנָּה יִקְצֹרוּ. הָלוֹךְ יֵלֵךְ וּבָכֹה נֹשֵׂא מֶשֶׁךְ הַזָּרַע, בֹּא יָבֹא בְרִנָּה נֹשֵׂא אֲלֻמֹּתָיו.

Shir Hama’alot, b’shuv Adonai et shee-vat Tzion, ha-yeenu k’chol meem. Az y’ma-lei s’chok pee-nu u’l-sho-nei-nu reena, az yo-m’ru va-goyim, heeg-deel Adonai la-asot eem eleh. Heeg-deel Adonai la-asot eemanu, ha-yee-nu s’mei-cheem. Shuva Adonai et sh’vee-tei-nu, ka-afee-keem ba-negev. Ha-zor-eem b’deem-ah b’reena yeek-tzo-ru. Ha-loch yei-lech u-va-cho no-sei me-shech hazara, bo yavo v’reena, no-sei alu-mo-tav.

When the Lord returns us from exile back to Zion, it will be as though in a dream. We will laugh and sing with joy. It shall be said around the world: “The Lord has done great things for them.” The Lord did great things for us, and we shall rejoice. God, restore our fortunes. We shall be like streams in the Negev. Those who sow in tears shall reap in joy. Though the farmer bears the measure of seed to the field in sadness, he shall come home with joy, bearing his sheaves.

Leader: רַבּוֹתַי נְבָרֵךְ. Rabotai n’vareich.

Participants: יְהִי שֵׁם יְיָ מְבֹרָךְ מֵעַתָּה וְעַד עוֹלָם. Y’hee sheim Adonai m’vo-rach mei-atah v’ad olam.

Leader: יְהִי שֵׁם יְיָ מְבֹרָךְ מֵעַתָּה וְעַד עוֹלָם. בִּרְשׁוּת מָרָנָן וְרַבָּנָן וְרַבּוֹתַי נְבָרֵך (אֱלֹהֵינוּ) שֶׁאָכַלְנוּ מִשֶּׁלוֹ.

Y’hee sheim Adonai m’vorach mei-atah v’ad olam. Beer-shut maranan v’rabanan v’rabotai, n’vareich (Eloheinu) she’achalnu mee-shelo.

Participants: בָּרוּךְ (אֱלֹהֵינוּ) שֶׁאָכַלְנוּ מִשֶּׁלוֹ וּבְטוּבוֹ חָיִּינוּ. Baruch (Eloheinu) she’achalnu mishelo uv’tuvo chayinu.

Leader: בָּרוּךְ (אֱלֹהֵינוּ) שֶׁאָכַלְנוּ מִשֶּׁלוֹ וּבְטוּבוֹ חָיִּינוּ. Baruch (Eloheinu) she’achalnu mishelo uv’tuvo chayinu.

All together: בָּרוּךְ הוּא וּבָרוּך שְׁמוֹ. Baruch hu u-varuch sh’mo.

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, הַזָּן אֶת הָעוֹלָם כֻּלּוֹ בְּטוּבוֹ בְּחֵן בְּחֶסֶד וּבְרַחֲמִים הוּא נוֹתֵן לֶחֶם לְכָל בָּשָׂר, כִּי לְעוֹלָם חַסְדּוֹ. וּבְטוּבוֹ הַגָּדוֹל תָּמִיד לֹא חָסַר לָנוּ וְאַל יֶחְסַר לָנוּ מָזוֹן לְעוֹלָם וָעֶד. בַּעֲבוּר שְׁמוֹ הַגָּדוֹל כִּי הוּא אֵל זָן וּמְפַרְנֵס לַכֹּל וּמֵטִיב לַכֹּל וּמֵכִין מָזוֹן לְכָל בְּרִיּוֹתָיו אֲשֶׁר בָּרָא. בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, הַזָּן אֶת הַכֹּל.

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha-olam, hazan et ha-olam kulo b’tuvo, b’chein b’chesed uv-rachamim, hu noten lechem l’chol basar, ki l’olam chasdo, uv-tuvo hagadol, tamid lo chasar lanu v’al yechsar lanu mazon l’olam va’ed. Ba-avur sh’mo hagadol, ki hu Eil zan um’farneis lakol, u-meitiv lakol u-meichin mazon l’chol-b’riyotav asher bara. Baruch atah Adonai, hazan et hakol.

Praised are you, Adonai, Lord our God, Ruler of the universe, who nourishes the whole world. Your kindness endures forever. May we never be in want of sustenance. God sustains us all, doing good to all, and providing food for all creation. Praised are you, Adonai, who sustains all.

נוֹדֶה לְךָ יְיָ אֱלֹהֵינוּ עַל שֶׁהִנְחַלְתָּ לַאֲבוֹתֵינוּ אֶרֶץ חֶמְדָּה טוֹבָה וּרְחָבָה, וְעַל שֶׁהוֹצֵאתָנוּ יְיָ אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֵאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם וּפְדִיתָנוּ מִבֵּית עֲבָדִים, וְעַל בְּרִיתְךָ שֶׁחָתַמְתָּ בִּבְשָׂרֵנוּ, וְעַל תּוֹרָתְךָ שֶׁלִמַּדְתָּנוּ, וְעַל חֻקֶּיךָ שֶׁהוֹדַעְתָּנוּ, וְעַל חַיִּים חֵן וָחֶסֶד שֶׁחוֹנַנְתָּנוּ, וְעַל אֲכִילַת מָזוֹן שָׁאַתָּה זָן וּמְפַרְנֵס אוֹתָנוּ תָּמִיד בְּכָל יוֹם וּבְכָל עֵת וּבְכָל שָׁעָה.

We thank you, Adonai, Lord our God, for having given a beautiful, good, and spacious land; for having taken us out from the land of Egypt and redeemed us from the house of slavery; for Your covenant which You sealed in our flesh; for Your Torah which You taught us; for the life, grace and kindness You have granted us; and for the food with which You always sustain us.

וְעַל הַכֹּל יְיָ אֱלֹהֵינוּ אֲנַחְנוּ מוֹדִים לָךְ וּמְבָרְכִים אוֹתָךְ יִתְבָּרַךְ שִׁמְךָ בְּפִי כָל חַי תָּמִיד לְעוֹלָם וָעֶד. כַּכָּתוּב, וְאָכַלְתָּ וְשָׂבָעְתָּ וּבֵרַכְתָּ אֶת יְיָ אֱלֹהֶיךָ עַל הָאָרֶץ הַטֹּבָה אֲשֶׁר נָתַן לָךְ. בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, עַל הָאָרֶץ וְעַל הַמָּזוֹן.

​וּבְנֵה יְרוּשָׁלַיִם עִיר הַקֹּדֶשׁ בִּמְהֵרָה בְיָמֵינוּ. בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, בּוֹנֵה בְרַחֲמָיו יְרוּשָׁלָיִם. אָמֵן.

Uv’nei Y’rushalayim ir hakodesh bimheira v’yameinu. Baruch atah Adonai, boneh v’rachamav Y’rushalayim. Amein.

The Blessing after the Meal concludes by drinking the Third Cup of wine, while reclining to the left.

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הַגָפֶן.

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha-olam, borei p'ri hagafen.

Praised are you, Adonai, Lord of the universe, who has created the fruit of the vine.

To uprooting oppression and transforming all of our living cultures. We refuse to give up our voices, our histories, our blood to the corporations and the governments, to the pharaohs of the present day. We refuse to leave behind any of our people who do not look or desire or move or speak or believe the way we do. We refuse to be left behind ourselves. We are powerful agents of change, and we are transforming our cultures to be so just, so free, so beautiful, that we cannot even fully imagine them right now. Let us savor this taste of the freedom that is to come. Let us never lose our conviction that the world we dream of, the ‘world to come’, is coming, right now, through each of us.

ברוך אתה יי אלהינו מלך העולם, בורא פרי הגפן

Brucha Yah Shechinah, eloheinu Malkat ha’olam borayt p’ri ha-gafen. (Ashkenazi pronunciation, fem.)

Barouch ata Adonai, eloheinu Melech ha’olam boreh p’ri ha-gafen. (Iraqi pronunciation, masc.)

Baruch atah Adonai, eloheinu Melech ha’olam boreh p’ri ha-gafen. (Ashkenazi pronunciation, masc.)

Blessed is the Infinite, that fills all creation and brings forth the fruit of the vine!!!!

(from "Love and Justice in Times of War" Haggadah)

מִן הַמֵּצַר קָרָאתִי יָּהּ, עָנָּנִי בַמֶרְחַב יָהּ. עָנָּנִי

Min hameitzar karati yah Amani vamerchav yah Anani (3x)

From a narrow place, I cried out to Hashem. Hashem answered me with wide expanse.

"It is good to give thanks, Not because G-d needs our praise, But because we do. To awaken to wonder, to holiness, to G-d. It is good to give thanks for through thanksgiving comes awakening."

-Rami Shapiro

Next Year In... It is traditional to end a seder with L’shanah ha-ba’ah b’Yerushalayim—Next Year in Jerusalem! The call speaks to a feeling of exile which characterized the Jewish Diaspora for centuries. How might we understand this today? A close look at the word Yerushalayim suggests an answer. The name can be read as deriving from Ir Shalem (“City of Wholeness”) or Ir Shalom (“City of Peace”). No matter where we are or what our politics, we all slip into exile from the state of wholeness and unity which only connection with our Source can provide. Next year, wherever we are, may we be whole and at peace.

I speak to you as an American Jew.

As Americans we share the profound concern of millions of people about the shame and disgrace of inequality and injustice which make a mockery of the great American idea.

As Jews we bring to this great demonstration, in which thousands of us proudly participate, a two-fold experience -- one of the spirit and one of our history.

In the realm of the spirit, our fathers taught us thousands of years ago that when God created man, he created him as everybody's neighbor. Neighbor is not a geographic term. It is a moral concept. It means our collective responsibility for the preservation of man's dignity and integrity.

From our Jewish historic experience of three and a half thousand years we say:

Our ancient history began with slavery and the yearning for freedom. During the Middle Ages my people lived for a thousand years in the ghettos of Europe . Our modern history begins with a proclamation of emancipation.

It is for these reasons that it is not merely sympathy and compassion for the black people ofAmerica that motivates us. It is above all and beyond all such sympathies and emotions a sense of complete identification and solidarity born of our own painful historic experience.

When I was the rabbi of the Jewish community in Berlin under the Hitler regime, I learned many things. The most important thing that I learned under those tragic circumstances was that bigotry and hatred are not '.the most urgent problem. The most urgent, the most disgraceful, the most shameful and the most tragic problem is silence.

A great people which had created a great civilization had become a nation of silent onlookers. They remained silent in the face of hate, in the face of brutality and in the face of mass murder.

America must not become a nation of onlookers. America must not remain silent. Not merely black America , but all of America . It must speak up and act,. from the President down to the humblest of us, and not for the sake of the Negro, not for the sake of the black community but for the sake of the image, the idea and the aspiration of America itself.

Our children, yours and mine in every school across the land, each morning pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States and to the republic for which it stands. They, the children, speak fervently and innocently of this land as the land of "liberty and justice for all."

The time, I believe, has come to work together - for it is not enough to hope together, and it is not enough to pray together, to work together that this children's oath, pronounced every morning from Maine to California, from North to South, may become. a glorious, unshakeable reality in a morally renewed and united America.

אֶחָד מִי יוֹדֵעַ?
אֶחָד אֲנִי יוֹדֵעַ: אֶחָד אֱלֹהֵינוּ שֶׁבַּשָּׁמַים וּבָאָרֶץ.

שְׁנַיִם מִי יוֹדֵעַ?
שְׁנַיִם אֲנִי יוֹדֵעַ: שְׁנֵי לֻחוֹת הַבְּרִית. אֶחָד אֱלֹהֵינוּ שֶׁבַּשָּׁמַים וּבָאָרֶץ.

שְׁלשָׁה מִי יוֹדֵעַ?
שְׁלשָׁה אֲנִי יוֹדֵעַ: שְׁלשָׁה אָבוֹת, שְׁנֵי לֻחוֹת הַבְּרִית, אֶחָד אֱלֹהֵינוּ שֶׁבַּשָּׁמַים וּבָאָרֶץ

אַרְבַּע מִי יוֹדֵעַ?
אַרְבַּע אֲנִי יוֹדֵעַ: אַרְבַּע אִמָהוֹת, שְׁלשָׁה אָבוֹת, שְׁנֵי לֻחוֹת הַבְּרִית, אֶחָד אֱלֹהֵינוּ שֶׁבַּשָּׁמַים וּבָאָרֶץ

חֲמִּשָּׁה מִי יוֹדֵעַ?
חֲמִּשָּׁה אֲנִי יוֹדֵעַ: חֲמִשָׁה חוּמְשֵׁי תוֹרָה, אַרְבַּע אִמָהוֹת, שְׁלשָׁה אָבוֹת, שְׁנֵי לֻחוֹת הַבְּרִית, אֶחָד אֱלֹהֵינוּ שֶׁבַּשָּׁמַים וּבָאָרֶץ

שִׁשִָּׂה מִי יוֹדֵעַ?
שִׁשִָּׂה אֲנִי יוֹדֵעַ: שִׁשָּׁה סִדְרֵי מִשְׁנָה, חֲמִשָׁה חוּמְשֵׁי תוֹרָה, אַרְבַּע אִמָהוֹת, שְׁלשָׁה אָבוֹת, שְׁנֵי לֻחוֹת הַבְּרִית, אֶחָד אֱלֹהֵינוּ שֶׁבַּשָּׁמַים וּבָאָרֶץ

שִׁבְעָה מִי יוֹדֵעַ?
שִׁבְעָה אֲנִי יוֹדֵעַ: שִׁבְעָה יְמֵי שַׁבָּתָא, שִׁשָּׁה סִדְרֵי מִשְׁנָה, חֲמִשָׁה חוּמְשֵׁי תוֹרָה, אַרְבַּע אִמָהוֹת, שְׁלשָׁה אָבוֹת, שְׁנֵי לֻחוֹת הַבְּרִית, אֶחָד אֱלֹהֵינוּ שֶׁבַּשָּׁמַים וּבָאָרֶץ

שְׁמוֹנָה מִי יוֹדֵעַ?
שְׁמוֹנָה אֲנִי יוֹדֵעַ: שְׁמוֹנָה יְמֵי מִילָה, שִׁבְעָה יְמֵי שַׁבָּתָא, שִׁשָּׁה סִדְרֵי מִשְׁנָה, חֲמִשָׁה חוּמְשֵׁי תוֹרָה, אַרְבַּע אִמָהוֹת, שְׁלשָׁה אָבוֹת, שְׁנֵי לֻחוֹת הַבְּרִית, אֶחָד אֱלֹהֵינוּ שֶׁבַּשָּׁמַים וּבָאָרֶץ

תִּשְׁעָה מִי יוֹדֵעַ?
תִּשְׁעָה אֲנִי יוֹדֵעַ: תִּשְׁעָה יַרְחֵי לֵדָה, שְׁמוֹנָה יְמֵי מִילָה, שִׁבְעָה יְמֵי שַׁבָּתָא, שִׁשָּׁה סִדְרֵי מִשְׁנָה, חֲמִשָׁה חוּמְשֵׁי תוֹרָה, אַרְבַּע אִמָהוֹת, שְׁלשָׁה אָבוֹת, שְׁנֵי לֻחוֹת הַבְּרִית, אֶחָד אֱלֹהֵינוּ שֶׁבַּשָּׁמַים וּבָאָרֶץ

עֲשֶָרָה מִי יוֹדֵעַ?
עֲשֶָרָה אֲנִי יוֹדֵעַ: עֲשָׂרָה דִבְּרַיָא, תִּשְׁעָה יַרְחֵי לֵדָה, שְׁמוֹנָה יְמֵי מִילָה, שִׁבְעָה יְמֵי שַׁבָּתָא, שִׁשָּׁה סִדְרֵי מִשְׁנָה, חֲמִשָׁה חוּמְשֵׁי תוֹרָה, אַרְבַּע אִמָהוֹת, שְׁלשָׁה אָבוֹת, שְׁנֵי לֻחוֹת הַבְּרִית, אֶחָד אֱלֹהֵינוּ שֶׁבַּשָּׁמַים וּבָאָרֶץ

אַחַד עָשָׂר מִי יוֹדֵעַ?
אַחַד עָשָׂר אֲנִי יוֹדֵעַ: אַחַד עַָשָׂר כּוֹכְבַיָּא, עֲשָׂרָה דִבְּרַיָא, תִּשְׁעָה יַרְחֵי לֵדָה, שְׁמוֹנָה יְמֵי מִילָה, שִׁבְעָה יְמֵי שַׁבָּתָא, שִׁשָּׁה סִדְרֵי מִשְׁנָה, חֲמִשָׁה חוּמְשֵׁי תוֹרָה, אַרְבַּע אִמָהוֹת, שְׁלשָׁה אָבוֹת, שְׁנֵי לֻחוֹת הַבְּרִית, אֶחָד אֱלֹהֵינוּ שֶׁבַּשָּׁמַים וּבָאָרֶץ

שְׁנֵים עָשָׂר מִי יודע?
שנים עָשָׂר אֲנִי יוֹדֵעַ: שְׁנֵים עֶָשָׂר שִׁבְטַיָא, אַחַד עַָשָׂר כּוֹכְבַיָּא, עֲשָׂרָה דִבְּרַיָא, תִּשְׁעָה יַרְחֵי לֵדָה, שְׁמוֹנָה יְמֵי מִילָה, שִׁבְעָה יְמֵי שַׁבָּתָא, שִׁשָּׁה סִדְרֵי מִשְׁנָה, חֲמִשָׁה חוּמְשֵׁי תוֹרָה, אַרְבַּע אִמָהוֹת, שְׁלשָׁה אָבוֹת, שְׁנֵי לֻחוֹת הַבְּרִית, אֶחָד אֱלֹהֵינוּ שֶׁבַּשָּׁמַים וּבָאָרֶץ

שְׁלשָׁה עָשָׂר מִי יוֹדֵעַ?
שְׁלשָׁה עָשָׂר אֲנִי יוֹדֵעַ: שְׁלשָׁה עָשָׂר מִדַּיָא. שְׁנֵים עֶָשָׂר שִׁבְטַיָא, אַחַד עַָשָׂר כּוֹכְבַיָּא, עֲשָׂרָה דִבְּרַיָא, תִּשְׁעָה יַרְחֵי לֵדָה, שְׁמוֹנָה יְמֵי מִילָה, שִׁבְעָה יְמֵי שַׁבָּתָא, שִׁשָּׁה סִדְרֵי מִשְׁנָה, חֲמִשָׁה חוּמְשֵׁי תוֹרָה, אַרְבַּע אִמָהוֹת, שְׁלשָׁה אָבוֹת, שְׁנֵי לֻחוֹת הַבְּרִית, אֶחָד אֱלֹהֵינוּ שֶׁבַּשָּׁמַים וּבָאָרֶץ

Echad mi yodeah? Echad ani yodeah: Echad eloheinu shebashamayim uva'aretz.

Shenayim mi yodeah? Shnayim ani yodeah: Shnei luchot habrit. Echad eloheinu shebashamayim uva'aretz.

Shelosha mi yodeah? Shelosha ani yodeah: Shelosha avot. Shnei luchot habrit. Echad eloheinu shebashamayim uva'aretz.

Arba mi yodeah? Arba
ani yodeah: Arba imahot. Shelosha avot. Shnei luchot habrit. Echad eloheinu shebashamayim uva'aretz.

Hamisha mi yodea? Hamisha ani yodeah. Hamisha humshe torah. Arba imahot. Shelosha avot. Shnei luchot habrit. Echad eloheinu shebashamayim uva'aretz.

Shisha mi yodea? Shisha ani yodeah. Shisha sidrei mishna. Hamisha humshe torah. Arba imahot. Shelosha avot. Shnei luchot habrit. Echad eloheinu shebashamayim uva'aretz.

Shivah mi yodeah. Shivah ani yodeah. Shivah yemei shabta. Shisha sidrei mishna. Hamisha humshe torah. Arba imahot. Shelosha avot. Shnei luchot habrit. Echad eloheinu shebashamayim uva'aretz.

Shemona mi yodeah? Shemona ani yodeah: Shemona yemei milah. hivah yemei shabta. Shisha sidrei mishna. Hamisha humshe torah. Arba imahot. Shelosha avot. Shnei luchot habrit. Echad eloheinu shebashamayim uva'aretz.

Tishah mi yodeah? Tishah ani yodeah. Tisha yarchei leida. Shemona yemei milah. hivah yemei shabta. Shisha sidrei mishna. Hamisha humshe torah. Arba imahot. Shelosha avot. Shnei luchot habrit. Echad eloheinu shebashamayim uva'aretz.

Asarah mi yodeah? Asarah ani yodeah. Asarah dibrayah. Tisha yarchei leida. Shemona yemei milah. hivah yemei shabta. Shisha sidrei mishna. Hamisha humshe torah. Arba imahot. Shelosha avot. Shnei luchot habrit. Echad eloheinu shebashamayim uva'aretz.

Achad asar mi yodeah? Achad asar ani yodeah. Achad asar cochbaya. Asarah dibrayah. Tisha yarchei leida. Shemona yemei milah. hivah yemei shabta. Shisha sidrei mishna. Hamisha humshe torah. Arba imahot. Shelosha avot. Shnei luchot habrit. Echad eloheinu shebashamayim uva'aretz.

Shneim asar mi yodeah. Shneim asar ani yodeah. Shneim asar shivtaya. Achad asar cochbaya. Asarah dibrayah. Tisha yarchei leida. Shemona yemei milah. hivah yemei shabta. Shisha sidrei mishna. Hamisha humshe torah. Arba imahot. Shelosha avot. Shnei luchot habrit. Echad eloheinu shebashamayim uva'aretz.

Shelosha asar mi yodeah? Shelosha asar ani yodeah: Shelosha asar midaya. Shneim asar shivtaya. Achad asar cochbaya. Asarah dibrayah. Tisha yarchei leida. Shemona yemei milah. hivah yemei shabta. Shisha sidrei mishna. Hamisha humshe torah. Arba imahot. Shelosha avot. Shnei luchot habrit. Echad eloheinu shebashamayim uva'aretz.

Translation:

Who knows one? I know one! One is our God in the heavens and the earth.

Who knows two? I know two! Two are the tablets of the covenant,​​​​​​​​​​​​ and one is our God in the heavens and the earth.

Who knows three? I know three! Three are the fathers, two are the tablets of the covenant,​​​​​​​​​​​​ and one is our God in the heavens and the earth.

Who knows four? I know four! Four are the matriarch​​​​​​​​​​s, three are the patriarch​​​​​​​​​​s, two are the tablets of the covenant,​​​​​​​​​​​​ and one is our God in the heavens and the earth.

Who knows five? I know five! Five are the books of the Torah, four are the matriarch​​​​​​​​​​s, three are the patriarch​​​​​​​​​​s, two are the tablets of the covenant,​​​​​​​​​​​​ and one is our God in the heavens and the earth.

Who knows six? I know six! Six are the orders of the Mishnah, five are the books of the Torah, four are the matriarch​​​​​​​​​​s, three are the patriarch​​​​​​​​​​s, two are the tablets of the covenant,​​​​​​​​​​​​ and one is our God in the heavens and the earth.

Who knows seven? I know seven! seven are the days of the week, six are the orders of the Mishnah, five are the books of the Torah, four are the matriarch​​​​​​​​​​s, three are the patriarch​​​​​​​​​​s, two are the tablets of the covenant,​​​​​​​​​​​​ and one is our God in the heavens and the earth.

Who knows eight? I know eight! Eight are the days until circumcis​​​​​​ion, seven are the days of the week, six are the orders of the Mishnah, five are the books of the Torah, four are the matriarch​​​​​​​​​​s, three are the patriarch​​​​​​​​​​s, two are the tablets of the covenant,​​​​​​​​​​​​ and one is our God in the heavens and the earth.

Who knows nine? I know nine! Nine are the months of pregnancy​​​​​, eight are the days until circumcis​​​​​​ion, seven are the days of the week, six are the orders of the Mishnah, five are the books of the Torah, four are the matriarch​​​​​​​​​​s, three are the patriarch​​​​​​​​​​s, two are the tablets of the covenant,​​​​​​​​​​​​ and one is our God in the heavens and the earth.

Who knows ten? I know ten! Ten are the commandme​​​​nts, nine are the months of pregnancy​​​​​, eight are the days until circumcis​​​​​​ion, seven are the days of the week, six are the orders of the Mishnah, five are the books of the Torah, four are the matriarch​​​​​​​​​​s, three are the patriarch​​​​​​​​​​s, two are the tablets of the covenant,​​​​​​​​​​​​ and one is our God in the heavens and the earth.

Who knows eleven? I know eleven! Eleven are the stars [in Joseph's dream], ten are the commandme​​​​nts, nine are the months of pregnancy​​​​​, eight are the days until circumcis​​​​​​ion, seven are the days of the week, six are the orders of the Mishnah, five are the books of the Torah, four are the matriarch​​​​​​​​​​s, three are the patriarch​​​​​​​​​​s, two are the tablets of the covenant,​​​​​​​​​​​​ and one is our God in the heavens and the earth.

Who knows twelve? I know twelve! Twelve are the tribes [of Israel], eleven are the stars in Joseph’​​s dream, ten are the commandme​​​​nts, nine are the months of pregnancy​​​​​, eight are the days until circumcis​​​​​​ion, seven are the days of the week, six are the orders of the Mishnah, five are the books of the Torah, four are the matriarch​​​​​​​​​​s, three are the patriarch​​​​​​​​​​s, two are the tablets of the covenant,​​​​​​​​​​​​ and one is our God in the heavens and the earth.

Who knows thirteen?​ I know thirteen!​ Thirteen are the attribute​s [of God's mercy], twelve are the tribes [of Israel], eleven are the stars in Joseph’​​s dream, ten are the commandme​​​​nts, nine are the months of pregnancy​​​​​, eight are the days until circumcis​​​​​​ion, seven are the days of the week, six are the orders of the Mishnah, five are the books of the Torah, four are the matriarch​​​​​​​​​​s, three are the patriarch​​​​​​​​​​s, two are the tablets of the covenant,​​​​​​​​​​​​ and one is our God in the heavens and the earth.

Trans​lation by Eve Levavi

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.