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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Song: Hineh Ma Tov
Hineh mah tov umah na’im, shevet ahim gam yahad
Behold, how good and how pleasant it is when brothers and sisters dwell together in unity.
Opening Prayer
We read responsively:
Long ago at this season, our people set out on a journey.
On such a night as this, Israel went from degradation to joy.
We give thanks for the liberation of days gone by.
And we pray for all who are still bound.
Eternal God, may all who hunger come to rejoice in a new Passover.
Let all the human family sit at Your table, drink the wine of deliverance, eat the bread of
freedom:
Freedom from bondage and freedom from oppression
Freedom from hunger and freedom from want
Freedom from hatred and freedom from fear
Freedom to think and freedom to speak
Freedom to teach and freedom to learn
Freedom to love and freedom to share
Freedom to hope and freedom to rejoice
Soon, in our days Amen.
Blessing for the full Rainbow of Our Community
It is a custom of many families before the Kiddush at the Shabbat Seder to offer a blessing for the children. Tonight we’d like to offer a blessing for everyone here tonight. You’ll notice that on the Seder plate there is a selection of rainbow ribbons
• Please take one length of ribbon.
• Choose a neighbor at your table to share your blessing with.
• Wrap one end of the ribbon around your right forefinger. Leave a long tail for your neighbor to hold.
• Stand and face your neighbor and connect by each of you taking hold of the tail end of the other’s ribbon. Each of you will have a chance to bless the other.
Leader:
Who can look directly into the light? We can only behold a small portion — a fragment of the light.
And when that One Light is fragmented, the colors of the rainbow result.
So let us give thanks for all the colors that are ours. For those colors we love, and those with which
we are not so comfortable, within ourselves and others. All of them are a part of the One Light we
are all bathed in, the One Light that is the fountain of our life.
Each Partner Blesses The Other in Turn:
May God give you the blessings of the light of our ancestors, and may the Holy One help you find the courage to bring all the colors of your own light out into the world.
Barukh atah Adonai eloheynu melekh ha’olam m’shaneh ha-b’ri-ot
Blessed is the One, our God, Sovereign of the Universe, who has made
all creatures different.
All together:
Ki imkha m’kor ha-yim b’or-kha nir-eh or
With You is the fountain of life, in Your light we are bathed in light.
The Seder Plate
We place a Seder Plate at our table as a reminder to discuss certain aspects of the Passover story. Each item has its own significance.
Maror – The bitter herb. This symbolizes the harshness of lives of the Jews in Egypt.
Charoset – A delicious mix of sweet wine, apples, cinnamon and nuts that resembles the mortar used as bricks of the many buildings the Jewish slaves built in Egypt
Karpas – A green vegetable, usually parsley, is a reminder of the green sprouting up all around us during spring and is used to dip into the saltwater
Zeroah – A roasted lamb or shank bone symbolizing the sacrifice made at the great temple on Passover (The Paschal Lamb)
Beitzah – The egg symbolizes a different holiday offering that was brought to the temple. Since eggs are the first item offered to a mourner after a funeral, some say it also evokes a sense of mourning for the destruction of the temple.
Orange - The orange on the seder plate has come to symbolize full inclusion in modern day Judaism: not only for women, but also for people with disabilities, intermarried couples, and the LGBT Community.
Matzah
Matzah is the unleavened bread we eat to remember that when the Jews fled Egypt, they didn’t even have time to let the dough rise on their bread. Some Jews commemorate this by removing all bread and bread products from their home during Passover.
Elijah’s Cup
The fifth ceremonial cup of wine poured during the Seder. It is left untouched in honor of Elijah, who, according to tradition, will arrive one day as an unknown guest to herald a new era of peace. So we set a place for Elijah at many joyous, hopeful Jewish occasions, such as the Passover seder.
Miriam’s Cup
Another relatively new Passover tradition is that of Miriam’s cup. The cup is filled with water and placed next to Elijah’s cup. Miriam was the sister of Moses and a prophetess in her own right. After the exodus when the Israelites are wandering through the desert, just as Hashem gave them Manna to eat, legend says that a well of water followed Miriam and it was called ‘Miriam’s Well’. The tradition of Miriam’s cup is meant to honor Miriam’s role in the story of the Jewish people and the spirit of all women, who nurture their families just as Miriam helped sustain the Israelites.
We recall those who did not live to see this moment, and those who are unable to celebrate openly their love and connection to God. We are angry at Jewish institutions that deny the spiritual equality of LGBT Jews. We reflect that our liberation is still incomplete — and know that we are part of a chain of generations who, while we will not complete the work, are still obligated to continue it, and thus help fill the cup, for the generations to come.
Blessed is the empty cup, full of potential, of possibilities. Blessed is the cup waiting to be filled. Blessed is the cup of unfolding. And blessed is the Source of Life, who creates us all in Its image, full of love, strength, wisdom and dreams.
Reader: As we bathe in the light of these candles, we remember all the candles we’ve lit as Jews, as LGBTQI people and allies, and as those who struggle for freedom. Shabbat candles. Yahrtzeit candles. Candles at AIDS vigils. And candles at Take Back the Night Marches.
Reader: As we share in the light of these candles, we rededicate the flame each of us carries within, that small reflection of the Creator’s light that is ours to use as a beacon in our work of tikkun olam—repairing the world.
Reader: We rededicate this small spark that we can use as a match to give light to the hopes and dreams of all people.
בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה אֲדֹנָי אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם אֲשֶׁר קִדְּשָׁנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתָיו וְצִוָּנוּ לְהַדְלִיק נֵר שֶׁל יוֹם טוֹב
Baruch Atah, Adonai Eloheinu, Melech haolam, asher kideshanu b’mitzvotav, v’tzivanu lehadlik neir shel Yom Tov. ְ
Blessed are You, Eternal our God, sovereign of the universe, who sanctifies us with commandments and commands us to kindle the festival lights.
THE FIRST CUP
Pour a cup of wine for the person on your left, and together let us raise our glasses.
We raise our cups in honor of
Three artists who have shared their voices with the world.
- Debbie Friedman z”l, a Jewish folk singer who has created music and musical prayer sung by Jews throughout the world.
- Sharon Cohen, also known as Dana International, an Israeli transgender pop singer, whose hit “Diva” won international acclaim.
- Harvey Fierstein, an award-winning play- wright, actor and gay rights activist whose varied career includes the voice of Homer’s secretary on “The Simpsons” to Tony award-winning plays “Torch Song Trilogy and “La Cage Aux Folles.”
In gratitude to God, and in gratitude for those who bring redemption with their voices, we rise to recite the first Kiddush.
To wash your hands, you don’t need soap, but you do need a cup to pour water over your hands. Pour water on each of your hands three times, alternating between your hands. If the people around your table don’t want to get up to walk all the way over to the sink, you could pass a pitcher and a bowl around so everyone can wash at their seats… just be careful not to spill!
Too often during our daily lives we don’t stop and take the moment to prepare for whatever it is we’re about to do.
Let's pause to consider what we hope to get out of our evening together tonight. Go around the table and share one hope or expectation you have for tonight's seder.
In washing our hands, we also think of those who don't get to share in the basic human right of abundant, clean water
of people deprived of water by the weather in Somalia, in India, in Texas
and those deprived of water by human action in places like Flint, Michigan
as well as those whose homes have been ravaged by wind and water in Colombia, in California, and here in New Jersey.
We wash our hands and accept our responsibilities to those threatened by the presence and absence of water
and pray that those with the human power to change things do not wash their hands of what the world needs them to correct.
The breaking of the matzah reflects the struggle of dual identity most LGBT+ Jewish individuals face. When we are not free to live as we are, we are often compelled to put on a mask, dividing our Jewish selves and GLBTQA selves, our public selves and our private selves, and creating a rift we often navigate in silence. Just as we hide the afikomen, we hide parts of ourselves, compartmentalizing our lives in order to survive. God too hides from us.
Silently, break the middle matzah.
Set the larger piece as the afi koman
and wrap it in a napkin. The smaller
piece is saved for the hamotzi.
God revealed only God’s back and only to Moses on one special occasion. When the high priest entered the Holy of Holies – the place in which God dwelled – within the Temple, he would fi ll it will incense so that he would not see God and be killed by what he saw. God hides the meaning of God from us, just as LGBT+ Jewish people hide their identities, their purpose and meaning, from others and from themselves.
This hiding both protects us and destroys us. How much more peaceful and loving would our world be if we all knew the meaning of God? How much more peaceful and loving would it be if we were not compelled to hide the most meaningful parts of ourselves? And yet, God hides to protect us from God’s power, and we hide to protect ourselves from loss. Hiding too, has its purpose.
Why are we different from all other people?
We are different from all other people because our tribe is made up of those from every tribe, our people are found among all the peoples of the world. We have been born into every family, every nation, every faith, at every time and on every part of the planet. This is a clue left by the Creator of what all people share.
What is our sacred role?
Because we come from all other peoples, we are bridge-builders and connectors; we are ambassadors and weavers between worlds. Because we live our lives in many different ways, between genders and sexes and varied ways of loving, we stand at the doorway of Possibility, and it is from this that we derive our sacred role as holy people dedicated to truth and integrity, even in the face of death.
How are we the same as all other people?
We bleed as all people bleed, and we love and laugh and cry and sing, as do all human beings. We want what everyone wants: peace and prosperity, freedom and equality. We want families and communities and we want to be part of the healing of this world. Before we are transgendered, bisexual, intersexed, lesbian, gay, we are human. Just as the Source of Life is beyond gender, the human soul too is genderless, is all genders. And this we share with everyone in the world.
Where do we come from and what is our story?
This is why we are gathered here tonight around this festive table, to tell parts of the story of our people. It is an ancient story, a long one. We cannot tell it all, cannot name all the names of the people who led us out of oppression and into freedom. But for each tale we tell, there are others that are forgotten. And for each name that we remember to name, other names call out from the past. May all who are hungry for this story come and listen. Tonight, we tell the tale of our liberation.
At Passover, we are confronted with the stories of our ancestors’ pursuit of liberation from oppression. Facing this mirror of history, how do we answer their challenge? How do we answer our children when they ask us how to pursue justice in our time?
What does the Activist Child ask?
“The Torah tells me, ‘Justice, justice shall you pursue,’ but how can I pursue justice?”
Empower him always to seek pathways to advocate for the vulnerable. As Proverbs teaches, “Speak up for the mute, for the rights of the unfortunate. Speak up, judge righteously, champion the poor and the needy.”
What does the Skeptical Child ask?
“How can I solve problems of such enormity?”
Encourage her by explaining that she need not solve the problems, she must only do what she is capable of doing. As we read in Pirke Avot, “It is not your responsibility to complete the work, but neither are you free to desist from it.”
What does the Indifferent Child say?
“It’s not my responsibility.”
Persuade him that responsibility cannot be shirked. As Abraham Joshua Heschel writes, “The opposite of good is not evil, the opposite of good is indifference. In a free society where terrible wrongs exist, some are guilty, but all are responsible.”
And the Uninformed Child who does not know how to ask…
Prompt her to see herself as an inheritor of our people’s legacy. As it says in Deuteronomy, “You must befriend the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”
At this season of liberation, join us in working for the liberation of all people. Let us respond to our children’s questions with action and justice.
READER:
Every year, Jews gather at Seder tables around the world to remember, retell, and reconnect with the story of our collective redemption. Passover compels us to ask ourselves how we are moving out of Mitzrayim, the narrow straits of oppression and brokenness that still mar our world, and toward liberation in our lives today. We are inspired by our tradition’s story to strive for recognition, freedom, and acceptance for all.
Allies can have a powerful voice in that
struggle, supporting LGBTQ people in their coming out process and helping others to understand the importance of justice, fairness, acceptance, and mutual respect for people of all sexual orientations and gender identities. The role of allies is critical to the work of creating a Jewish community that is inclusive, safe, and supports all Jewish children, teens, and adults to be fully themselves.
At Passover, it is the family’s responsibility to retell the story, to inspire each new generation to accept the task of living out our values, of remembering that we were once strangers, and therein find an obligation to those on the margins of our own societies.
READER:
Who are the four allies? Which one are you?
1. The ally who asks what “LGBTQ” means: The first step to taking bold action and advocating on behalf of others is to approach with curiosity, humility, and openness. An ally is open to learning new things and challenging their own assumptions.
READER:
2. The ally who stands up for a friend: The lives of people we care about, our friends, family, and colleagues can be powerful catalysts for action.
3. The ally who speaks up about equality: When we speak out against injustice because it’s the right thing to do, regardless if someone we know and care about is affected, we act on behalf of our core values.
READER:
4. The ally who comes out as an advocate to move equality forward: As allies, we are often insulated from the vulnerabilities that LGBTQ people face in the world. However coming out publicly as an ally can also mean taking a risk on behalf of the values and people we care about.
Our story starts in ancient times, with Abraham, the first person to have the idea that maybe all those little statues his contemporaries worshiped as gods were just statues. The idea of one God, invisible and all-powerful, inspired him to leave his family and begin a new people in Canaan, the land that would one day bear his grandson Jacob’s adopted name, Israel.
God had made a promise to Abraham that his family would become a great nation, but this promise came with a frightening vision of the troubles along the way: “Your descendants will dwell for a time in a land that is not their own, and they will be enslaved and afflicted for four hundred years; however, I will punish the nation that enslaved them, and afterwards they shall leave with great wealth."
Raise the glass of wine and say:
וְהִיא שֶׁעָמְדָה לַאֲבוֹתֵֽינוּ וְלָֽנוּ
V’hi she-amda l’avoteinu v’lanu.
This promise has sustained our ancestors and us.
For not only one enemy has risen against us to annihilate us, but in every generation there are those who rise against us. But God saves us from those who seek to harm us.
The glass of wine is put down.
In the years our ancestors lived in Egypt, our numbers grew, and soon the family of Jacob became the People of Israel. Pharaoh and the leaders of Egypt grew alarmed by this great nation growing within their borders, so they enslaved us. We were forced to perform hard labor, perhaps even building pyramids. The Egyptians feared that even as slaves, the Israelites might grow strong and rebel. So Pharaoh decreed that Israelite baby boys should be drowned, to prevent the Israelites from overthrowing those who had enslaved them.
But God heard the cries of the Israelites. And God brought us out of Egypt with a strong hand and outstretched arm, with great awe, miraculous signs and wonders. God brought us out not by angel or messenger, but through God’s own intervention.
THE SECOND CUP:THE UPRISING
This cup is for those who fought back — the stirring of the unchosen. The water in this cup is strong, strong enough to carve great canyons from solid rock. The water of this cup gave our people the courage to rise up at Stonewall and Compton’s Cafeteria.
We raise this cup in honor of Joy Ladin and Abby Stein
We drink this cup to remember them and be inspired by them. As we drink in this cup we take in its power.
One of most beloved songs in the Passover seder is "Dayenu". A few of us will read the stanzas one at a time, and the everyone else will respond, "Dayenu" – meaning, “it would have been enough”.
How many times do we forget to pause and notice that where we are is exactly where we ought to be? Dayenu is a reminder to never forget all the miracles in our lives. When we stand and wait impatiently for the next one to appear, we are missing the whole point of life. Instead, we can actively seek a new reason to be grateful, a reason to say “Dayenu.”
Fun fact: Persian and Afghani Jews hit each other over the heads and shoulders with scallions every time they say Dayenu! They especially use the scallions in the ninth stanza which mentions the manna that the Israelites ate everyday in the desert, because Torah tells us that the Israelites began to complain about the manna and longed for the onions, leeks and garlic. Feel free to be Persian/Afghani for the evening if you’d like.
| English translation | Hebrew | |
| Ilu hotzianu mimitzrayim, | אִלּוּ הוֹצִיאָנוּ מִמִּצְרָיִם | |
| and had not carried out judgments against them | v'lo asah bahem sh'fatim, | וְלֹא עָשָׂה בָּהֶם שְׁפָטִים |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had carried out judgments against them, | Ilu asah bahem sh'fatim | אִלּוּ עָשָׂה בָּהֶם שְׁפָטִים |
| and not against their idols | v'lo asah beloheihem, | וְלֹא עָשָׂה בֵּאלֹהֵיהֶם |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had destroyed their idols, | Ilu asah beloheihem, | אִלּוּ עָשָׂה בֵּאלֹהֵיהֶם |
| and had not smitten their first-born | v'lo harag et b'choreihem, | וְלֹא הָרַג אֶת בְּכוֹרֵיהֶם |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had smitten their first-born, | Ilu harag et b'choreihem, | אִלּוּ הָרַג אֶת בְּכוֹרֵיהֶם |
| and had not given us their wealth | v'lo natan lanu et mamonam, | וְלֹא נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת מָמוֹנָם |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had given us their wealth, | Ilu natan lanu et mamonam, | אִלּוּ נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת מָמוֹנָם |
| and had not split the sea for us | v'lo kara lanu et hayam, | ןלא קָרַע לָנוּ אֶת הַיָּם |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had split the sea for us, | Ilu kara lanu et hayam, | אִלּוּ קָרַע לָנוּ אֶת הַיָּם |
| and had not taken us through it on dry land | v'lo he'eviranu b'tocho becharavah, | וְלֹא הֶעֱבִירָנוּ בְּתוֹכוֹ בֶּחָרָבָה |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had taken us through the sea on dry land, | Ilu he'eviranu b'tocho becharavah, | אִלּוּ הֶעֱבִירָנוּ בְּתוֹכוֹ בֶּחָרָבָה |
| and had not drowned our oppressors in it | v'lo shika tzareinu b'tocho, | וְלֹא שִׁקַע צָרֵינוּ בְּתוֹכוֹ |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had drowned our oppressors in it, | Ilu shika tzareinu b'tocho, | אִלּוּ שִׁקַע צָרֵינוּ בְּתוֹכוֹ |
| and had not supplied our needs in the desert for forty years | v'lo sipeik tzorkeinu bamidbar arba'im shana, | וְלֹא סִפֵּק צָרַכֵּנוּ בַּמִּדְבָּר אַרְבָּעִים שָׁנָה |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had supplied our needs in the desert for forty years, | Ilu sipeik tzorkeinu bamidbar arba'im shana, | אִלּוּ סִפֵּק צָרַכֵּנוּ בַּמִּדְבָּר אַרְבָּעִים שָׁנָה |
| and had not fed us the manna | v'lo he'echilanu et haman, | וְלֹא הֶאֱכִילָנוּ אֶת הַמָּן |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had fed us the manna, | Ilu he'echilanu et haman, | אִלּוּ הֶאֱכִילָנוּ אֶת הַמָּן |
| and had not given us the Shabbat | v'lo natan lanu et hashabbat, | וְלֹא נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת הַשַּׁבָּת |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had given us the Shabbat, | Ilu natan lanu et hashabbat, | אִלּוּ נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת הַשַּׁבָּת |
| and had not brought us before Mount Sinai | v'lo keirvanu lifnei har sinai, | וְלֹא קֵרְבָנוּ לִפְנֵי הַר סִינַי |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had brought us before Mount Sinai, | Ilu keirvanu lifnei har sinai, | אִלּוּ קֵרְבָנוּ לִפְנֵי הַר סִינַי |
| and had not given us the Torah | v'lo natan lanu et hatorah, | וְלֹא נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת הַתּוֹרָה |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had given us the Torah, | Ilu natan lanu et hatorah, | אִלּוּ נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת הַתּוֹרָה |
| and had not brought us into the land of Israel | v'lo hichnisanu l'eretz yisra'eil, | וְלֹא הִכְנִיסָנוּ לְאֶרֶץ יִשְׂרָאֵל |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had brought us into the land of Israel, | Ilu hichnisanu l'eretz yisra'eil, | אִלּוּ הִכְנִיסָנוּ לְאֶרֶץ יִשְׂרָאֵל |
| and not built for us the Holy Temple | v'lo vanah lanu et beit hamikdash, | וְלֹא בָּנָה לָנוּ אֶת בֵּית הַמִּקְדָּשׁ |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
Wash the hands, raise them in the air, and say:
Blessed are You, Eternal our God, Ruler of the universe, who has made us holy with mitzvot and commanded us concerning the washing of the hands.
בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְ‑יָ אֱ‑לֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם אֲשֶׁר קִדְּשָׁנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתָיו, וְצִוָּנוּ עַל נְטִילַת יָדָים:
Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech Ha’Olam, asher kideshanu bemitzvotav vetzivanu al netilat yadayim.
One should not speak until after making the next two blessings and eating the matzah.
MOTZI - A Blessing for Bread
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 matzoh.
The upper and middle piece of the three matzot are broken and distributed among the group as we recite together
ALL: We praise You, God, who brings forth bread from the earth.
MATZOH - A Special Blessing for Matzoh
We praise You, God, who hallows our lives with commandments, and enjoins us to partake in eating matzoh.
Each participant eats a portion of the two matzot
A simple piece of Matzah serves to remind us of the immense suffering of ancient slavery. Now we take into account a second item, bitter chocolate, to remind us of modern suffering. One might question how chocolate is representative of hardship, for its purpose is to satisfy one’s pleasures, to be eaten in times of love and craving. Simply put, it is expected to be sweet, but when it is not, the unwanted chocolate is automatically dismissed and rejected. The expectations of chocolate is to be sweet and readily available for one’s satisfaction. Victims/survivors of rape culture can be seen in a similar light. A prize to be won by the hands of a pursuer, it softens, melts, drip, drip, drip. Their dignity mutilated down the wrist, almost ink, slowly hardening to etch su ering like blood. No longer a clean-cut square, the chocolate is transformed into a desired shape, sugar stu ed in to make it what it is not. Today, we embrace chocolate in its plain form, celebrating not its bitterness, but its strength.
Everyone at the table should eat a piece of bitter chocolate and consider quietly the ways in which they feel pressured to take shapes that aren’t natural to them.
Reader
In the beginning of our seder, we compared hiding the afikomen to hid-ng parts of ourselves. While hiding sometimes has its purpose, the Passover meal is never complete until we find the afikomen. The story of freedom is never complete until we find that which is hidden. In our personal struggles as LGBT+ people, often our only true redemption can be found when we come out of hiding.
Reader
Search for the hidden afikomen. This is the last food eaten during the seder. The taste remains in our mouths while we re-live the remainder of the Exodus from Egypt. As our dessert, it marks the end of the meal, but not the end of the seder process, or the process of tikkun olam, repairing the world. The story continues, as does oppression and the fight against it. As we learn from our discussion of the ten plagues, freedom is not the end of the struggle for liberation; it is the beginning.
Leader:
We raise our glasses in honor of Harvey Milk z"l and Jazz Jennings. May we look back to see what Harvey has done for us, and forward to see where Jazz will lead us.
Although Miriam, a prophet and the sister of Moses, is never mentioned in the traditional Haggadah text, she is one of the central figures in the Exodus story. Miriam has long been associated with water – she watched over Moses when he was placed in the Nile River. After the Exodus when the Jews were wandering through the desert, legend says that a well of water followed Miriam so the Jews always had water to drink.
The tradition of Miriam’s cup is meant to honor Miriam’s role in the story of the Jewish people and the spirit of all women leaders. We place a glass of water on the table as a way to bring her story, the story of all women, back into the narrative of our history, as well as an expression of our commitment to listen to the voices of women –all women: trans, Muslim, young or old, women with disabilities, poor women, Latin women, Asian, Black, Arab, Jewish, queer, multiracial, undocumented immigrant women, homeless, incarcerated, and all those whose voices have gone unheard and whose power will be unleashed.
This is the fourth cup. This cup is for those who refused to stand still. Labor organizers, civil rights activists of all races, feminists. Like rain, like streams, like rivers flowing toward the sea, the water of this cup is about change, about movement, about transformation. We take it into ourselves and merge with its fluid creativity, we who are mostly water ourselves.
We raise this cup in honor of Leslie Feinberg Z"L and Judith Butler.
Together we read:
Nevarekh et Ein ha khayim
Yotzer et ha olam
Boreit mayim chayim
Let us bless the Wellspring of Life
Creator of the Universe
Who made the living waters.
We raise our glasses in honor of each other. We bring light and change to the world.
Next year in Jerusalem!
