Why We Are Together Tonight

Contributed By Machar Congregation

Leader:

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

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

As we feel how wonderful and important it is for diverse peoples to come together, let us recite  the words of HINNEH MAH TOV. 

HINNEH, MAH TOV (BEHOLD, HOW GOOD!)

Behold, how good and how pleasant it is when peoples dwell together in unity!

Hinneh, mah tov u-mah naim shevet ammim gam yahad! 

Passover is a holiday of community and remembrance. As we reflect on the Jewish Exodus, we hold space for those fleeing persecution, violence, and unstable living conditions today. We acknowledge the ground beneath our feet as occupied Native territory, and mourn the construction of walls built to separate families from one another. This meal is held in memory of not only the Jewish people who were freed from enslavement, but all those who have been marginalized and made to feel unsafe in their place of origin. We understand that oppression is not a relic of the past, and hope that this gathering will invigorate our sense of social obligation as Jews and people of conscience to make the world more welcoming to the stranger.

Written by Justine Orlovsky-Schnitzler 

The first words in the creation of the universe out of the unformed, void and dark earth were God’s “Let there be light." Therein lies the hope and faith of Judaism and the obligation of our people: to make the light of justice, compassion, and knowledge penetrate the darkness of our time till the prophecy be fulfilled, ‘that wickedness vanish like smoke and the earth shall be filled with knowledge of God as the waters cover the sea’ (Isaiah 11:9). We, co-creators with God, pray: "Let there be light."

ברוך אתה יי אלהינו מלך העולם אשר קדשנו במצותיו וצונו להדליק נר של יום טוב

Baruch atah Adonai Elohaynoo melech ha-olam, asher keedshanoo b’meetzvotav v’tzeevanoo l’hadleek ner shel yom tov.

Praised are You, Lord our God, Whose presence fills the universe, Who has sanctified our lives through Your commandments and commanded us to kindle the festival lights.

ברוך אתה יי אלהינו מלך העולם שהחינו וקימנו והגיענו לזמן הזה

Baruch ata Adonai, Elohaynoo melech ha-olam, sheh’hech’eeyanoo v’keeyemanoo, v’heegeeanoo la-z’man ha-zeh.

Praised are You, Lord our God, Whose presence fills the universe, Who has sanctified our lives through Your commandments and commanded us to kindle the festival lights.

The entire story of the Haggadah is contained in the Seder plate (קערה ke'ara); everything on it symbolizes an aspect of Exodus:

Zeroa (זרוֹע)a roasted bone, evokes the offering made at the Temple in ancient times.

Beitza (ביצה‎), a boiled egg, symbolizes the circle of life and death.

Maror (מָרוֹר), a bitter herb, reminds us of the bitterness of enslavement.

Charoset (חֲרֽוֹסֶת), a mixture of fruit, nuts, wine and spices, represents the mortar our ancestors used to build the structures of Mitzrayim.

Karpas (כַּרְפַּס), a green vegetable, symbolizes hope and renewal.

Chazeret (חזרת), the bitter herb for the “sandwich” we eat later, following the custom established by Hillel the Elder, as a reminder that our ancestors “ate matzah and bitter herbs together”

At the Passover seder, Jews usually drink four cups of wine while leaning to the left, according to the Haggadah service, but the reason why is elusive to many. Considered a royal drink, wine symbolizes freedom, which is what the Passover seder and Haggadah celebrate. 

In Genesis, when Joseph interprets the dream of the butler, the butler mentions the word "cup" four times. The  Midrash  suggests that these cups alluded to the liberation of the Israelites from Pharaoh's rule.

Then there is God's promise to take the Israelites out of Egyptian slavery in Exodus, in which there were four terms used to describe the redemption:

1. I shall take you out ...
2. I shall rescue you ...
3. I shall redeem you ... 
4. I shall bring you ... 

There are four evil decrees by Pharaoh that the Israelites were liberated from, including:

1. Slavery
2. The murder of all newborn males
3. The drowning of all Israelite boys in the Nile 
4. The order for the Israelites to collect their own straw to make bricks

Another opinion cites the four exiles that the Israelites suffered and the freedom that was (or will be) granted from each, including:

1. The Egyptian exile
2. The Babylonian exile
3. The Greek exile
4. The current exile and the coming of the Messiah

There's a reason provided, also, that in the Haggadah Jews read about the forefathers Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Esau, and Jacob's son Yosef, but the matriarchs do not appear in the narrative. This view suggests that because of this, each cup of wine represents one of the matriarchs: Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel, and Leah.

All Jewish celebrations, from holidays to weddings, include wine as a symbol of our joy – not to mention a practical way to increase that joy. The seder starts with wine and then gives us three more opportunities to refill our cup and drink.

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הַגָּפֶן

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

We praise God, Ruler of Everything, who creates the fruit of the vine.

We praise God, Ruler of Everything, who chose us from all peoples and languages, and sanctified us with commandments, and lovingly gave to us special times for happiness, holidays and this time of celebrating the Holiday of Matzah, the time of liberation, reading our sacred stories, and remembering the Exodus from Egypt. For you chose us and sanctified us among all peoples. And you have given us joyful holidays. We praise God, who sanctifies the people of Israel and the holidays.

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם
 שֶׁהֶחֱיָנוּ וְקִיְּמָנוּ וְהִגִּיעָנוּ לַזְּמַן הַזֶּה

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam,
she-hechiyanu v’key’manu v’higiyanu lazman hazeh.

We praise God, Ruler of Everything,
who has kept us alive, raised us up, and brought us to this happy moment.

Drink the first glass of wine!

The wine of Passover is the wine of joy, the wine of love, the wine of celebration, the wine 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, now, in our days, and forever.

Precious is the life within the world.

Precious in the life within us.

Praised are those who bring forth the fruit of the vine

L’chaim!

Pass a bowl of water, a small cup and a towel around the table. Everyone pours three cupfuls over their fingers. There is no blessing over this washing.

Passover, like many of our holidays, combines the celebration of an event from our Jewish memory with a recognition of the cycles of nature. As we remember the liberation from Egypt, we also recognize the stirrings of spring and rebirth happening in the world around us. The symbols on our table bring together elements of both kinds of celebration.

We now take a vegetable, representing our joy at the dawning of spring after our long, cold winter. Most families use a green vegetable, such as parsley or celery, but some families from Eastern Europe have a tradition of using a boiled potato since greens were hard to come by at Passover time. Whatever symbol of spring and sustenance we’re using, we now dip it into salt water, a symbol of the tears our ancestors shed as slaves. Before we eat it, we recite a short blessing:

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הָאֲדָמָה

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

We praise God, Ruler of Everything, who creates the fruits of the earth.

Karpas is one of the traditional rituals in the Passover Seder. It refers to the vegetable, usually parsley, that is dipped in salt water and eaten. The karpas is traditionally placed on the seder plate on the left side, below the roasted egg.

One reason given for dipping a vegetable into saltwater is to provoke children to ask about it, as per the theme of the Seder night that the story is to be recounted by way of question and answer. Dipping a vegetable prior to the main meal is not usually done at other occasions, and thus arouses the curiosity of the children.[ There is a second ceremonial dipping later in the Seder, when maror is dipped into the charoset. Hence one of the Four Questions, traditionally sung by the youngest at the Seder table, asks why "on all other nights we do not dip vegetables even once, on this night, we dip twice."

We are instructed to treat the strangers in our midst with justice and compassion: "When a stranger sojourns with you in your land, you shall do him no wrong. The stranger who sojourns with you shall be to you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself for you were strangers in the land of Egypt” (Leviticus 19:33). This teaching permeates Jewish tradition and is echoed 35 times in the Torah – the most repeated of any commandment. The history of the Jewish people from Egypt through the Holocaust until today reminds us of the many struggles faced by immigrants throughout the world. As a community of immigrants, Jews are charged to pursue justice, seek peace and build a society that is welcoming to all of God's creatures, regardless of their immigration status. In Genesis, three strangers visit Abraham, and he welcomes them into his home and into his heart without question (Genesis 18:1-22). This virtue of hachnasat orchim, welcoming the stranger, drives both our commitment to protecting all immigrants our dedication to the hospitality and inclusion of all people.

Uncover and hold up the three pieces of matzah and say:

Behold, the bread of affliction which our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt. Let all who are hungry come and eat; let all who are needy come and celebrate Passover with us. This year we are here; next year we will be in Israel. This year we are slaves; next year we will be free.

Take the middle matzah and break it into two, one piece larger than the other.  The host should wrap up the larger of the pieces, the afikomen, and at some point between now and the end of dinner, hide it.  After dinner, the children will hunt for the afikomen in order to wrap up the meal… and win a prize.

The smaller piece is put back, between the two matzot. This smaller piece, along with the top matzah is what will be used for the “Motzi-Matzah” and “Korech”

Passover is the celebration of life. The story of the Jewish people is truly a triumph of life. Against the odds of history, the Jewish people have done more than survive - we have adapted creatively to each new time, each new place, from the birth of our people to the present day.

Even though death has pursued us relentlessly, time and time again, we have chosen to live. During the many centuries of the Jewish experience, memories of destruction are tempered by the knowledge that the world can also be good.

We have endured slavery and humiliation. We have also enjoyed freedom and power. Darkness has been balanced by light.

Our forebears traveled the Earth in search of the safety and liberty they knew must exist. We have learned to endure. We have learned to progress.

We are proud survivors. We celebrate our good fortune and seek the advancement of all.

Leader:

One of the customs of the seder is the asking of questions - questions about what the ritual actions of the seder mean. The Passover tradition involves the youngest children asking - actually singing - about these matters in a song we call "The Four Questions." 

Ma Nishtana, otherwise known as the Four Questions, is the second paragraph of Maggid. It opens with the title question: “Ma nishtanah, ha-laylah ha-zeh, mi-kol ha-leylot?” (Why is this night different from all others?)

On Passover, we commemorate the Exodus from Egypt. More than just remembering a story from the past, we reaffirm our unbroken tradition, linked generation by generation. The passing down of the story of the Exodus from parent to child represents the forging of these links. In fact, we are specifically commanded to tell the story of the Exodus to our children, not just to recount it for ourselves.

Our Sages were aware that children don’t always have the longest attention spans, and the best way to grab children’s attention is to awaken their natural curiosity. The Seder, therefore, is designed to provoke questions in the young (and old).

What better way to promote the asking of questions than to open Maggid with a series of four questions that point out some of the stranger and more bewildering Passover rituals?

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.

Around our tables sit four daughters.

Wise Daughter

The Wise daughter understands that not everything is as it appears.

She is the one who speaks up, confident that her opinion counts. She is the one who can take the tradition and ritual that is placed before her, turn it over and over, and find personal meaning in it. She is the one who can find the secrets in the empty spaces between the letters of the Torah.

She is the one who claims a place for herself even if the men do not make room for her.

Some call her wise and accepting. We call her creative and assertive. We welcome creativity and assertiveness to sit with us at our tables and inspire us to act.

Wicked Daughter

The Wicked daughter is the one who dares to challenge the simplistic answers she has been given.

She is the one who asks too many questions. She is the one not content to remain in her prescribed place. She is the one who breaks the mold. She is the one who challenges the status quo.

Some call her wicked and rebellious. We call her daring and courageous. We welcome rebellion to sit with us at our tables and make us uneasy.

Simple Daughter

The Simple daughter is the one who accepts what she is given without asking for more.

She is the one who trusts easily and believes what she is told. She is the one who prefers waiting and watching over seeking and acting. She is the one who believes that the redemption from Egypt was the final act of freedom. She is the one who follows in the footsteps of others.

Some call her simple and naive. We call her the one whose eyes are yet to be opened. We welcome the contented one to sit with us at our tables and appreciate what will is still to come.

Daughter Who Does Not Know How to Ask

Last is the daughter who does not know how to ask.

She is one who obeys and does not question. She is the one who has accepted men's definitions of the world. She is the one who has not found her own voice. She is the one who is content to be invisible.

Some call her subservient and oppressed. We call her our sister. We welcome the silent one to sit with us at our tables and experience a community that welcomes the voices of women.

(Used with permission of the Temple Emunah Women's Seder Haggadah Design Committee)

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.

At the end of the biblical book of Genesis, Joseph brings his family to Egypt. Over the following centuries, the descendants of Joseph's family (the Hebrews) become so numerous that when a new king comes to power he fears what might happen if the Hebrews decide to rise against the Egyptians. He decides that the best way to avoid this situation is to enslave them. According to tradition, these enslaved Hebrews are the ancestors of modern day Jews.

Despite pharaoh's attempt to subdue the Hebrews they continue to have many children. As their numbers grow, pharaoh comes up with another plan: he will send soldiers to kill all newborn male babies who were born to Hebrew mothers. This is where the story of Moses begins.

In order to save Moses from the grisly fate pharaoh has decreed, his mother and sister put him in a basket and set it afloat on the river. Their hope is that the basket will float to safety and whomever finds the baby will adopt him as their own. His sister, Miriam, follows along as the basket floats away. Eventually it is discovered by none other than pharaoh's daughter. She saves Moses and raises him as her own, so that a Hebrew child is raised as a prince of Egypt.

The Passover story is most often associated with the leadership of Moses, but in fact the cycle of protest that culminated in the Exodus from Egypt began with the courageous acts of two women who disobeyed Pharaoh’s decree to murder all Hebrew male babies born in Egypt. These women, Shifra and Puah, practiced a bold and noteworthy profession—midwifery. It was their commitment to preserving human life and their skills as midwives that provided the safe and secret delivery of Hebrew baby boys. That the biblical text actually mentions Shifra and Puah by name suggests the ultimate importance of their role in the liberation of the Israelites.

When Moses grows up he kills an Egyptian guard when he sees him beating a Hebrew slave. Then Moses flees for his life, heading into the desert. In the desert he joins the family of Jethro, a Midian priest, by marrying Jethro's daughter and having children with her. He becomes a shepherd for Jethro's flock and one day, while out tending the sheep, Moses meets God in the wilderness. The voice of God calls out to him from a burning bush and Moses answers: "Hineini!" ("Here I am!" in Hebrew.)

God tells Moses that he has been chosen to free the Hebrews from slavery in Egypt. Moses is not sure he can carry out this command. But God reassures Moses that he will have help in the form of God's aide and his brother, Aaron.

Along with his brother Aaron, Moses approaches the reigning pharaoh (who is unnamed in the biblical version of the story) several times, to argue the injustice of slavery. He gave Pharaoh a mandate with resounds through history: “Let My People Go”

When the pharaoh refuses, God unleashes 10 plagues on the Egyptians, including turning the Nile River red with blood, diseased livestock, boils, hailstorms and three days of darkness, culminating in the slaying of every firstborn son by an avenging angel.

The Israelites, however, mark the doorframes of their homes with lamb’s blood so that the angel of death will recognize and “pass over” each Jewish household.

Terrified of further punishment, the Egyptians convince their ruler to release the Israelites, and Moses quickly leads them out of Egypt, not even 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,  daugther of Pharaoh) for the name Batya, "daughter of God."

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 a miracle occurs: God causes the sea to part, allowing Moses and his followers to cross safely, then closes the passage and drowns the Egyptians.

We now spill a drop of wine in remembrance of each plague, for though they oppressed and subjugated us, the suffering of the Egyptians lessens our joy.

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

The Egyptians needed ten plagues because after each one they were able to come up with excuses and explanations rather than change their behavior. Could we be making the same mistakes? Make up your own list. What are the plagues in your life? What are the plagues in our world today? What behaviors do we need to change to fix them? 

(raise second cup of wine)

The fate of every Jew is bound up with the fate of the Jewish people and the destiny of the Jewish people cannot be separated from the destiny of all humanity. Let us drink this cup of wine to symbolize our pledge to break the bonds of slavery for all who are not free.

L'CHAIM!
(Drink the second cup of wine)

At this point in our festivity, let us reflect upon the significance of Passover. Passover celebrates freedom. Can we be free while others are not?   If there are people anywhere who are oppressed, then we cannot celebrate Passover with a clear conscience.

"Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. 
Injustice to any people is a threat to justice to ALL people.
I will not remain silent in the face of injustice."
— Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Text By Rabbi Hayley Goldstein

A Midrash in the Talmud teaches us that when the Israelites had crossed the Sea, having transitioned from slavery to freedom, from constriction to the expanse of the wilderness, the Angels wanted to sing a song of praise and gratitude.  The Egyptians had followed behind them and were swallowed up by the waters of the sea. In response, the Holy One answered, 

מעשה ידי טובעין בים ואתם אומרים שירה לפני

The work of my hands is drowning in the sea, and you are reciting a song before me?

In G!d’s rhetorical response, G!d is reminding the angels, and perhaps us, that there is danger in celebration in the face of grief. To celebrate freely without first acknowledging the pain and loss they had just witnessed, even the loss of their enemies, was to deny the truth of the moment. This year, as we celebrate Passover, spend some time honoring those who did not make it to this year’s Seder. Through acknowledging the grief, we may even be able to celebrate in a deeper way, being true to this moment and the fullness of our experience.

אִלּוּ הוֹצִיאָנוּ מִמִצְרַיִם וְלֹא עָשָׂה בָהֶם שְׁפָטִים, דַּיֵּנוּ.

If He had taken us out of Egypt and not made judgements on them; [it would have been] enough for us. דַּיֵּנוּ Dayenu!

אִלּוּ עָשָׂה בָהֶם שְׁפָטִים, וְלֹא עָשָׂה בֵאלֹהֵיהֶם, דַּיֵּנוּ.

If He had made judgments on them and had not made [them] on their gods; [it would have been] enough for us. דַּיֵּנוּ Dayenu!

אִלּוּ עָשָׂה בֵאלֹהֵיהֶם, וְלֹא הָרַג אֶת־בְּכוֹרֵיהֶם, דַּיֵּנוּ.

If He had made [them] on their gods and had not killed their firstborn; [it would have been] enough for us. דַּיֵּנוּ Dayenu!

אִלּוּ הָרַג אֶת־בְּכוֹרֵיהֶם וְלֹא נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת־מָמוֹנָם, דַּיֵּנוּ.

If He had killed their firstborn and had not given us their money; [it would have been] enough for us. דַּיֵּנוּ Dayenu!

אִלּוּ נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת־מָמוֹנָם וְלֹא קָרַע לָנוּ אֶת־הַיָּם, דַּיֵּנוּ.

If He had given us their money and had not split the Sea for us; [it would have been] enough for us. דַּיֵּנוּ Dayenu!

אִלּוּ קָרַע לָנוּ אֶת־הַיָּם וְלֹא הֶעֱבִירָנוּ בְּתוֹכוֹ בֶּחָרָבָה, דַּיֵּנוּ.

If He had split the Sea for us and had not taken us through it on dry land; [it would have been] enough for us. דַּיֵּנוּ Dayenu!

אִלּוּ הֶעֱבִירָנוּ בְּתוֹכוֹ בֶּחָרָבָה וְלֹא שִׁקַּע צָרֵנוּ בְּתוֹכוֹ דַּיֵּנוּ.

If He had taken us through it on dry land and had not pushed down our enemies in [the Sea]; [it would have been] enough for us. דַּיֵּנוּ Dayenu!

אִלּוּ שִׁקַּע צָרֵנוּ בְּתוֹכוֹ וְלֹא סִפֵּק צָרְכֵּנוּ בַּמִדְבָּר אַרְבָּעִים שָׁנָה דַּיֵּנוּ.

If He had pushed down our enemies in [the Sea] and had not supplied our needs in the wilderness for forty years; [it would have been] enough for us. דַּיֵּנוּ Dayenu!

אִלּוּ סִפֵּק צָרְכֵּנוּ בְּמִדְבָּר אַרְבָּעִים שָׁנָה וְלֹא הֶאֱכִילָנוּ אֶת־הַמָּן דַּיֵּנוּ.

If He had supplied our needs in the wilderness for forty years and had not fed us the manna; [it would have been] enough for us. דַּיֵּנוּ Dayenu!

אִלּוּ הֶאֱכִילָנוּ אֶת־הַמָּן וְלֹא נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת־הַשַׁבָּת, דַּיֵּנוּ.

If He had fed us the manna and had not given us the Shabbat; [it would have been] enough for us. דַּיֵּנוּ Dayenu!

אִלּוּ נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת־הַשַׁבָּת, וְלֹא קֵרְבָנוּ לִפְנֵי הַר סִינַי, דַּיֵּנוּ.

If He had given us the Shabbat and had not brought us close to Mount Sinai; [it would have been] enough for us. דַּיֵּנוּ Dayenu!

אִלּוּ קֵרְבָנוּ לִפְנֵי הַר סִינַי, וְלא נַתַן לָנוּ אֶת־הַתּוֹרָה. דַּיֵּנוּ.

If He had brought us close to Mount Sinai and had not given us the Torah; [it would have been] enough for us. דַּיֵּנוּ Dayenu!

אִלּוּ נַתַן לָנוּ אֶת־הַתּוֹרָה וְלֹא הִכְנִיסָנוּ לְאֶרֶץ יִשְׂרָאֵל, דַּיֵּנוּ.

If He had given us the Torah and had not brought us into the land of Israel; [it would have been] enough for us. דַּיֵּנוּ Dayenu!

אִלּוּ הִכְנִיסָנוּ לְאֶרֶץ יִשְׂרָאֵל וְלֹא בָנָה לָנוּ אֶת־בֵּית הַבְּחִירָה דַּיֵּנוּ.

If He had brought us into the land of Israel and had not built us the ‘Chosen House’ [the Temple; it would have been] enough for us. דַּיֵּנוּ Dayenu!

Ilu ho-tsi, ho-tsi-a-nu,

Ho-tsi-a-nu mi-Mitz-ra-yim,

Ho-tsi-a-nu mi-Mitz-ra-yim,

Da-ye-nu!

.. CHORUS:

.. Dai, da-ye-nu,

.. Dai, da-ye-nu,

.. Dai, da-ye-nu,

.. Da-ye-nu, da-ye-nu, da-ye-nu!

.. Dai, da-ye-nu,

.. Dai, da-ye-nu,

.. Dai, da-ye-nu,

.. Da-ye-nu, da-ye-nu!

Ilu na-tan, na-tan la-nu,

Na-tan la-nu et-ha-Sha-bat,

Na-tan la-nu et-ha-Sha-bat,

Da-ye-nu!

.. (CHORUS)

Ilu na-tan, na-tan la-nu,

Na-tan la-nu et-ha-To-rah,

Na-tan la-nu et-ha-To-rah,

Da-ye-nu!

.. (CHORUS)

 --Rabbi Menachem Creditor, Congregation Netivot Shalom, Berkeley, CA

Our hands were touched by this water earlier during tonight's seder, but this time is different. This is a deeper step than that. This act of washing our hands is accompanied by a blessing, for in this moment we feel our People's story more viscerally, having just retold it during Maggid. Now, having re-experienced the majesty of the Jewish journey from degradation to dignity, we raise our hands in holiness, remembering once again that our liberation is bound up in everyone else's. Each step we take together with others towards liberation is blessing, and so we recite:                                                        

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha’olam, asher kidshanu bemitvotav vetzivanu al netilat yadayim.

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה' אֱלֹֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶך הָעוֹלָם אֲשֶׁר קִדְּשָׁנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתָיו וְצִוָּנוּ עַל נְטִילַת יָדָיִּם.

Blessed are You ETERNAL our God, Master of time and space, who has sanctified us with commandments and instructed us regarding lifting up our hands.

Before reciting the blessing hamotzi, one should lift all the matzos (the two complete matzos and the broken half between them).

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

After reciting this blessing, the third (bottom) matzah is put down, and the blessing al achilas matzah is recited while holding only the upper matzah and the half of the middle matzah.

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

Distribute and eat the top and middle matzah for everyone to eat.

We take some Major and recite:

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, אֲשֶׁר קִדְּשָנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתָיו וְצִוָּנוּ עַל אֲכִילַת מָרוֹר

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheynu Melech Ha’Olam
Asher Kidshanu Bemitzvotav Ve-Tzivanu Al Achilat Maror.

Blessed are You, Lord our God, Ruler of the universe,
who sanctifies us with commandments, and commands us to eat Maror.

Leader:

You shall rejoice before God with your son and daughter. And the stranger, and the orphan and the widow in your midst (Deuteronomy)

Group:

Always remember you were slave sin the land of Egypt

Leader:

You shall not subvert the rights of the stranger or the orphan

Group:

Always remember you were slave sin the land of Egypt

Leader:

Not only our ancestors alone did the Holy One redeem, but us as well, along with them, as it is written, “And God freed us from Egypt so as to take us and give us land sworn to our ancestors.”

(The wine cup is raised)

Group:

Therefore, let us rejoice

At the wonder of our deliverance

From Bondage to freedom

From Again to joy,

From Mourning to festivity,

From Darkness to light, From servitude to redemption.

Before God let us sing a new song

The charoset reminds us of the mortar and of the pain of slavery. However, as we eat it we taste it’s sweetness. This sweetness gives us hope that the future will bring redemption and justice to all people.

We make sandwiches out of maror and charoset, to remind us of the mortar our ancestors used to construct huge monuments for Pharaoh in Egypt.

As you we eat this sandwich, we consider the signs of hope for a more just future that can be seen in your community. And use this sandwich as sustenance for the work ahead.

The Passover Seder (celebration) contains many poignant traditions, but the eating of the afikomen after the meal is one of the most fascinating customs. The Seder contains 15 separate steps or stages, and the afikomen comes during the twelfth step, which is called tzafun. The Hebrew word tzafun means “hidden” or “concealed,” which accurately conveys the uncertain and peculiar origin of the ritual.

Early in the Seder, the leader lifts up the three pieces of matzah, removes the middle piece and breaks it in half. He then takes the larger half of the broken matzah and sets it aside until later in the ceremony. This broken piece of matzah is the afikomen. In some traditions, the children in the home attempt to steal the afikomen during the meal; while in most Ashkinazi homes the leader hides the afikomen from the children, who then search for it. In both traditions, the leader attempts to redeem the afikomen from the children, often in exchange for a small gift. Surprisingly, afikomen is not Hebrew, but a Greek word, meaning “dessert”.

Together:

“I will redeem you with an outstretched arm,” Exodus 6:7

-

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הַגָּפֶן

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheynu Melech Ha’Olam Borey P’ree Hagafen.

Blessed are You, Lord our God, Ruler of the universe, Who creates the fruit of the vine.

Have a participant open the door for Elijah. Pour a cup of wine into the additional wine glass. Gathered around the Seder table, we ultimately pour four cups, remembering the gift of freedom that our ancestors received centuries ago.

Raising the additional cup of wine and read as a group:

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 an additional cup, a cup not yet consumed.

An additional cup for the more than 68 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, 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.

Place this additional cup of wine down untasted.

Our tradition teaches that as history approaches the climactic era of universal peace and brotherhood, it will be Elijah the Prophet who announces the heralding of the messianic era. Additionally, when the Talmud is unable to definitively resolve certain questions of law or practice, it often states that the question have to wait for Elijah. With the advent of the final era, one of Elijah's roles will be to resolve all those lingering scholarly quandaries.

There is an opinion in the Talmud which states that five cups of wine, not four, are to be drunk at the Seder. In practice we follow the majority opinion and drink only four cups. In deference to the minority opinion, however, we pour the Fifth Cup of wine even though no one drinks from it. This Fifth Cup of wine bears the name of Elijah because it is he who will eventually resolve this question, as well as many others.

Jews believe in questions. Whether it is the innocent question of a youngster at the Seder, or the penetrating query of a Talmudic sage, Judaism neither hides its questions nor hides from them. Thoughtful questions fueled by a relentless pursuit of truth and wisdom are part and parcel of the Jewish experience. We celebrate questions and applaud a desire for truth that burns not for a day, a semester, or even for years – but until the end of time itself.

Sing Eliyahu

Eliyahu hanavi

Eliyahu hatishbi,

Eliyahu hagil'adi -

Bim'hera yavoh eleinu,

im mashiach ben David.

Bim'hera yavoh eleinu,

im mashiach ben David.

I will take you to be my people... ...

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

Raise Fourth Glass

Blessed are You, Adonai Our God, who has created us all in Your image.

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הַגָּפֶן

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

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

Drink Fourth Glass

Leader: [Announces the name of the child or children who found the `afikoman.]
Let us continue our seder by eating one last little piece of matsah to leave us with the taste of freedom's struggles.

[Everyone eat a last piece of matsah.]

Now, let us conclude our seder.

Everyone:

We have recalled struggles against slavery and injustice.
We have sung of freedom and peace.
We revisited times of persecution and times of fulfillment.
Only half a century ago, Nazis committed the crimes of the Holocaust.
Today, as Jews in the United States, we are more free than at any other time.

Yet Jewish history shows that life is ever-changing,
and we must learn how to survive under all conditions.
When we are persecuted, we must struggle for our own freedom.
The more freedom we attain,
the more we must help others attain freedom.

This is the lesson of Passover. This is why we celebrate the Festival of Freedom. 

In a moment, our Seder will be complete. However, we remember that working against oppression in the world is our never-ending responsibility. We recommit ourselves to the vision of a world filled with peace and justice for all. We work for a world where "nation shall not lift-up sword against nation nor study war anymore." We work for a world where people are not treated differently because of their race, their religion, their gender, their age, their marital status, their skin color, the people they love, their profession or their politics. We work for a world that affirms the inherent worth and dignity of every person on our planet and assures basic human rights for everyone, everywhere. Like Nachshon standing at the shore of the Red Sea, we are not waiting for a miracle but rather proceeding with faith that G-d will support us and give us the strength and resolve to work together to heal the world.

We close our Seder by saying, "L'Shanah Haba'ah B'Yerushalyim", which means "Next Year in Jerusalem." For centuries, this declaration expressed the Jewish people's goal to return to our homeland. Even after the founding of the State of Israel in 1948, these words still resonate with us. We all have our own personal aspirations and dreams that we are striving for. As we conclude our Seder, may we have the strength and the will to continue working toward our personal Jerusalem and toward a world where all people will live in shalom -- peace, safety and freedom.

This article was written in 1899 when anti-Semitism was widespread in the United States. Large companies did not hire Jews, Universities either didn't admit Jews or limited their numbers with strict quotas. "Respectable" people like Ford and Edison expressed their anti-Jewish feelings openly. Mark Twain had an answer for them:

Written by Mark Twain in Harper's, September 1899

If the statistics are right, the Jews constitute but one percent of the human race. It suggests a nebulous dim puff of stardust lost in the blaze of the Milky Way.

Properly the Jew ought hardly to be heard of, but he is heard of, has always been heard of.

He is as prominent on the planet as any other people and his commercial importance is extravagantly out of proportion to the smallness of his bulk.

His contributions to the world's list of great names in literature, science, art, music, finance, medicine, and obtuse learning are also way out of proportion to the weakness of his numbers.

He has made a marvelous fight in this world in all the ages and has done it with his hands tied behind him.

He could be vain of himself and be excused for it. The Egyptians, the Babylonians and the Persians rose, filled the planet with sound and splendor, and faded to dream stuff and passed away.

The Greeks and the Romans followed and made a vast noise and they are gone.

Other peoples have sprung up and held their torch high for a time. But it burned out, and they sit in twilight now or have vanished.

The Jew saw them all. Beat them all, and is now what he always was, exhibiting no decadence, no infirmities of age, no weakening of his parts, no slowing of his energies, no dulling of his alert and aggressive mind. All things are mortal but the Jew. All other forces pass, but he remains.