From Slavery to Freedom, Then and Now— A Passover Seder Celebration of Hope and Joy
Announcer: Welcome to our Passover ceremony where we will celebrate together the successful freedom struggle of the Jewish slaves in Egypt, 3 ½ thousand years ago. We will start by singing a traditional Welcoming song in which “Shalom” means both “hello” and “peace.” Whoever knows the tune can sing, others can say the words:
“We bring Shalom to our seder. we celebrate peace together As we sit and tell our stories We call forth Shalom, shalom, to all who yearn for peace.
Announcer: The Passover ceremony, like all Jewish holidays, begins with
CANDLE-LIGHTING
It is preceded by a celebrant’s reading these words:
Before we light the candles to begin the celebration of our liberation from slavery in Egypt thousands of years ago, we recite this poem, written by Hannah Senesch, who was involved in an attempt to rescue Jews in Hungary from the German murder machine during World War II. She was captured, and wrote this poem in prison in Budapest, Hungary, before being executed on November 7th, 1944: Blessed is the match Consumed in igniting the flame. Blessed is the flame That flared in the recesses Of the heart Blessed are the hearts Who knew to throb their last beat in dignity. Blessed is the match Consumed in igniting the flame.
Announcer: We say these blessings together:
Exalted be the name of God, wise and compassionate Giver of Light and Warmth, Who instructed us to carry out the holy and joyful deed of lighting the holiday candles.
Exalted be the name of God, wise and compassionate Creator of the universe, with its infinite beauty and wonder -- its boundless diversity joined in the Web of Life -- Who has sustained us in body and spirit to enable us to reach this day of celebration. 2
Announcer: Now we can turn on the (electric) menorah.
The Three Cakes Known as “Matza”
Announcer: We will break the middle matza of the three cakes on the seder table. We leave one-half of it on the plate. The other half will be hidden. This half is called the “afeekomon,” from the Greek word for “desert.” It has to be found and eaten before the singing of “Chad Gadya,” which concludes the seder.
Announcer breaks the middle matza, and hides part of it, then says: Let’s lift the plate with the matza cakes on it and recite together:
This is the humble bread our ancestors ate after they escaped the Egyptian House of Bondage. Let all who are hungry come and eat it with us. Let all who hunger for spiritual sustenance come and join this celebration, and let us remember how the spirit of the people can overcome oppression.
Announcer: three individuals each read a paragraph.
This year, our Planet is mired in war, mass murders, oppression, racism, poverty, disease and pain, and in the destruction of animals, and other life forms, and of our Mother Earth.
Next year, may we begin to abolish injustice, violence, slavery and oppression, and become stewards of our small, green planet.
Next year, may be strive to create the pre-conditions of justice and empathy for the beginning of a Messianic Era, the “Reign of Peace.”
The Four Questions
Announcer: The traditional “Four Questions” are asked by the youngest person:
How is this night different from all other nights of the year? • Why do we eat both bread and matza on all other nights but on this night we eat only matza? • Why do we eat all kinds of vegetables on all other nights, but on this night we eat greens and bitter herbs? • Why don’t we dip one food into another even once on all other nights, but on this night we dip different foods one into another two times? • Why do we sometimes recline in our seats while eating on all other nights, but on this night we are instructed to eat in a reclining, comfortable position?
Announcer: An adult older than the questioner answers thus:
This night is different from all the other nights of the year because tonight we celebrate the liberation of our people from the House or Bondage in ancient 3
Egypt during the Exodus. This is a historic event which marks the emergence of the Jewish people into a free nation.
It marks, as well, the origin of the concept that all people have the right to live in freedom and in peace, the right to express their cultural heritage, and to express their opinions aloud and in writing, in public and in private.
We are reminded of our responsibility to participate in struggles for liberty, justice and peace, and to help others overcome tyranny, slavery, pain, hunger, homelessness, illness and sorrow.
We recognize that we are all responsible for one another, and have the obligation to assist each other on the journey through life.
We Were Once Slaves
Announcer: One person reads:
We were slaves of the Pharaoh (king) in Egypt thousands of years ago. The Torah (the Jewish Scriptures) tells us that God took us out of there “with a strong hand” – in other words, by an uprising.
Had we not become free of Egyptian slavery, then we and our children and grandchildren, our parents and grandparents, our siblings and friends, and all who sit with us here today and all who sit at seders all around the world would still be slaves.
So even if all of us were wise, all of us learned, all of us deeply committed to our values, we would still need to tell this story of our liberation every year.
We do this to strive to inspire all who hear it with a love of freedom and with the understanding that it is not easily attained and preserved. We are all obligated to care responsibly and tenderly for the Tree of Liberty.
Announcer: Those of us who know this tune – “Ava-deem Ha-yee-noo,” in Hebrew: “we were slaves” -- can sing it; others can read it aloud:
We were slaves to Pharaoh, in Egypt’s land. God brought us to freedom with a strong hand. Going from bondage to liberation In struggle, becoming, becoming a nation., Resolving now, as we did then: Never, never to be slaves again.
4 The Story of Our Exodus from Egypt
Announcer: Each person reads a paragraph aloud, going around the table:
Originally, the Jews lived in a small location of a large West Asian territory called Canaan. It was later called “The Land of Israel.” Today, the State of Israel, born in 1948, is located in a small part of that territory.
The first couple in Canaan to recognize the One God—Creator, Lawgiver and Rescuer—was Abraham and Sarah, followed by Isaac and Rebecca, and then Jacob and his wives Leah and Rachel. The two women died, leaving 13 children, 12 boys and a girl. The boys married and they and their wives had many children. Jacob was the “patriarch” – the head of the large family.
The crops in Canaan failed one year, and there was a severe famine—like there was in China in many centuries and under Mao, in Ireland in the 19th century under Britain, and in the Soviet Union under Stalin. People and animals had little to eat. Many died of starvation.
Jacob’s favorite son was Joseph, who had been taken against his will to Egypt many years before. Joseph had risen to the position of economic czar. He initiated a program to store grain to eat if a famine should come to pass. Only the Egyptians had large amounts of grain – possibly because they had cats who kept the grain clean and thereby allowed them to stock-pile it successfully.
Jacob and his large family came to Egypt during the famine in Canaan and they settled in a fertile province through Joseph’s influence in court. The Jews came to feel at home in Egypt, where life was easy and comfortable, and they adopted many Egyptian practices. But they ignored the fact that they were allowed to live there only because the Pharaoh allowed them to.
Then the Pharaoh whom Joseph had served so well died and a new ruler took the throne. He preferred to forget what the country owed Joseph and his family. He needed thousands of slaves to build cities and pyramids. He decided to enslave the Jews to do the construction work.
The Jews were stunned when the authorities showed up to cart them away to slave-quarters near the site of the future pyramids. They didn’t know how to resist. The slavery continued for close to four centuries.
As the Jews grew in numbers a new Pharaoh became afraid that they would want to take over the country or side with an invading army to end their slavery. He decided to initiate a policy of genocide: he gave orders that all baby boys were to be drowned at birth and the girl babies were to be abducted.
Moses, who would lead his people’s struggle for freedom, was born to Yocheved and Amram during the days of the genocide. His life was saved by three women: His mother hid him in a basket among the reeds of the Nile River. The Pharaoh’s daughter, Batya, saw the basket with the baby and adopted Moses as her son. 5 His sister Miriam arranged to have their mother be his wet-nurse at the palace. (Many years later, his wife Tsipporah, saved his life after Moses forgot to carry out an important instruction from God.)
Moses grew up in the palace. When he became a young man, he learned he was a Jew. He was impelled to seek out his people. He went out to where the Jewish slaves were forced to do painful and dangerous labor against their will. He was deeply agitated by what he had seen.
One day, Moses saw an overseer beat a Jew. Moses responded instantly: he hit the overseer, who later died. The next day, a Jewish slave threatened to inform on him.
Moses fled the country and became a political exile in neighboring Midyan. He married Tsipporah, worked for his father-in-law as a shepherd, and devoted himself to raising a family.
But Moses’ destiny followed him to Midyan. One day, while rescuing a lost lamb, he had a vision of a bush that was burning but was not consumed in the flames. He understood this as a sign that although the Jews were suffering and in pain, they would continue to survive and would not be destroyed. But he also understood that it was necessary for him to help his people bring an end to their enslavement so that they could survive without suffering and pain.
Announcer: The song, “Go Down, Moses” describes what happened next. Let’s all sing this song composed and sung by African American slaves.
When Israel Was in Egypt’s Land “Let My People Go!” Oppressed so hard they could not stand “Let My People go!‘” Go down, Moses, ‘way down in Egypt land Tell old Pharaoh:” Let My People Go!”
Announcer: Now let’s continue reading the story of the Exodus:
Moses returned to Egypt and went to see the Pharaoh along with his older brother, Aharon, for support. At first Moses. made a transitional demand to let the Jews hold a religious festival outside the city. Pharaoh refused.
The Jews finally understood from the rejection of this reasonable demand that they would always be slaves if they didn’t resist. They went on strike.
Pharaoh denounced Moshe as an outside agitator. He ordered the overseers to deny the slaves straw to make building bricks with, and to institute a work speed- up.
Nothing Moses said or did made any lasting impact on Pharaoh. He was unmoved by pleas for justice and mercy. He was unfazed by threats of dire consequences. 6
Pharaoh watched his world come crashing down around him. The stench of blood rose from the rivers; frogs and locusts swarmed over the land, and boils and lice covered the skin of his subjects. There was hail and total darkness. But Pharaoh refused to free the slaves.
Moses understood that in dealing with an oppressor, it was not enough to present reasonable demands or even to create massive civil disturbances. The oppressor had to be brought to his knees. So it was only after the death of his oldest son that Pharaoh told the Jews to leave.
The women, led by Miriam, had planned for this eventuality; they gathered their belongings and collected back wages in supplies for the slaves’ 400 years of unpaid labor. The Jews marched out in an orderly fashion.
Pharaoh, however, soon had a change of heart. He quickly mobilized his cavalry and charioteers to recapture the Jewish slaves.
The Jews saw the Egyptian army approaching as they stood at the shores of the Reed Sea (once called the “Red Sea”). Even though there were 600,000 of them and only 600 Egyptians, they became frightened and unsure what to do because they were so used to having the Egyptians as their masters.
Moses stood in the Sea and told them that the waters would divide as soon as they walked in. They didn’t believe him. The waters did not divide until one man, Nachshon), walked into the sea. In doing this, he acted as a free human being who was ready to take the ultimate risk for freedom. Thus he became a free human being.
All the other Jews followed Nachshon into the sea. It was only at that point that the waters divided and they crossed over in safety and walked to the other side. Then the waters came together again and the Egyptian army drowned.
Freedom from a master is not the end of a liberation struggle, but only the beginning. Although the Jews had wrenched their bodies free of slavery, their spirits were still enslaved. They were incapable of trusting themselves or their leaders, unable to make decisions, and fearful of responsibilities and risks. Many times as they walked through the desert, they bitterly regretted giving up the security of slavery for the insecurity and dangers of freedom.
They did not return to slavery in Egypt. But neither could they go forward to self- determination in Canaan. The entire generation of ex-slaves (with only two exceptions) wandered in the wilderness for forty years, unable to find the path to self-liberation.
But the next generation had become self-reliant in body and soul during the desert journey, and they made the leap to national independence in the land of Canaan.
7 The experiences of the horrors of slavery and the struggle of the Exodus, told them by their parents and grandparents, left a profound mark on their consciousness. It gave them a deep appreciation of freedom and a passionate commitment to justice that they enshrined in the Torah. They vowed to remember that the Jews were once slaves in Egypt and to retell the story of our liberation once a year – even as we tell it again tonight.
The First Cup of Wine
Announcer: Participants read, going around the table.
We drink this first of four cups of wine at this seder to honor the midwives who were the first Jews in Egypt to resist the Pharaoh. The Torah relates that in the days of the genocide policy, Pharaoh tried to get Jews to collaborate in murdering their own people – a strategy common to oppressors.
He summoned the two chief midwives, Shifra and Pu’ah, and commanded them to kill newborn Jewish boys at birth. He threatened them with death by fire if they failed to follow orders.
But the midwives resisted orders and did not drown the babies. The midwives’ acts of civil disobedience were the first stirrings of resistance among the slaves. The action of the midwives gave the people courage both to withstand their suffering and to envision how to overcome it.
Thus, Shifra and Pua’h were not only midwives to the children they delivered, but also to the entire Jewish nation in its deliverance from slavery.
In our own day, the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo in Argentina -- who marched in public every week during the juntas’ Reign of Terror, 1976-1983, to protest the murder of their children—showed the same raw courage and unfaltering heroism. It was they who initiated the resistance that finally delivered the country from the juntas and restored democracy in 1983.
Announcer: We will now pour the first cup of wine. We say the blessing on the wine, then drink it:
Exalted be the name of God, wise and compassionate Creator of the universe, with its infinite beauty and wonder—its boundless diversity joined in the Web of Life -- who brings forth from the earth the fruit of the vine.
The Four Children
Announcer: One individual reads:
Jews were taught to retell the story of the Exodus to the children every year. The traditional hagada (seder ceremony) described four typical children – which can also apply to individuals of any age -- the searcher, the unethical individual, the naïve person and the one who does not know what to ask. 8
Announcer: Each of the 4 characters is read by a different person.
The searcher asks, what are my roots? What does it mean to be Jewish in this age? What new forms of expression should I be creating? We need to show him the sources, suggest she educate herself, and urge them to get involved with the community and its causes and concerns. and help shape its future direction.
The unethical individual asks, what does all this ridiculous, anachronistic ethnic nonsense mean to you? Give it up! Tell him, his motivation goes far beyond the wish to assimilate, and is rooted in fear. Tell her that if she’s afraid of being “too Jewish” or of being stigmatized with anti-Semitic stereotypes, including negative myths and lies about Israel, it is possible to overcome this fear and become an “out-Jew.” Should our arguments fail, we might point out that had this closed-minded coward lived with our ancestors in Egypt, he would similarly have failed to grasp the meaning of liberation and would have remained behind during the Exodus.
The naïve one asks, what’s all this about? Tell him the story of the Exodus and stress that there is no shame in the tragedy of having been enslaved. The only shame lies in forgetting it, ignoring the heroes who resisted it, and not helping others in their struggles to overcome slavery, persecution, pain, hunger homelessness and sorrow.
The individual who doesn’t know what to ask should not be left alone to drop out just because no one bothered to give him an education. Try to draw her near, introduce her to our rich body of literature, and do some consciousness-raising.
Dipping the Greens in Salt Water
Announcer: We take a piece of a leafy green vegetable, such as celery, or a boiled potato – dip it in the bowl of salt water on the table. One individual reads:
We dip this vegetable, which symbolizes growth, the renewal of life which comes with liberation, into a bowl of salt water, which represents the tears we shed under slavery. Why do we immerse a symbol of liberation into a symbol of suffering?
We do this to affirm that to liberate ourselves, we first have to immerse ourselves in the memories and meaning of our oppression—and identify it as oppression. This is what the feminist movement did in its “consciousness-raising” groups. It is only after we have become fully conscious of our oppression as oppression that we can begin to grow into liberation.
Announcer: Let’s now say the blessing on the greens and/or potato and then eat them:
9 Exalted be the name of God, wise and compassionate Creator of the universe, with its infinite beauty and wonder-- its boundless diversity joined in the Web of Life—Who has brought into being the fruit of the earth.
The Second Cup of Wine
Announcer: We will now go around the table with each paragraph being read by a different celebrant:
Go and learn how our spiritual resistance enabled us to survive two thousand years of oppression. We continued to be Jews even when Judaism was outlawed. After the Romans destroyed the Second Jewish Commonwealth in 70 CE, they forbade Jewish teaching and gatherings during certain Emperors’ reigns.
Five scholars nevertheless held a seder in the town of B’nay Brak and discussed the Exodus all night. It was only when their students came to announce morning prayers that they realized dawn had broken. According to tradition, it was not only the struggle against the Pharaoh of Egypt that the rabbis were discussing so avidly. It was also the coming Jewish uprising against the Roman Empire (135- 137 CE).
The Romans crushed the rebellions and scattered the Jewish people to the four corners of the earth. Those who later settled in medieval Spain enjoyed a “Golden Age” under Moslem rule until anti-Semitic Christian rulers took over in the 15th century and subsequently expelled Jews and Moslems.
Many Jews were forced to give up Judaism at the point of a sword. Being discovered secretly observing Jewish customs In the days of the Spanish Inquisition, which was designed to root-out “heretics,” resulted in public burnings at the stake.
The Yiddish poet Avrom Reisen wrote this poem about the Marranos, the secret Jews: “—Tell me, Marrano… where have you prepared your seder?” In a room, in a deep cellar, there my seder is ready.”
“—Tell me, Marrano…where will you get white matzos?” “ -- In the cellar, under God’s protection, my wife kneaded the dough.”
“—Tell me, Marrano… how will you manage to get a hagada?” “—In the cellar, in a deep crevice, I hid a hagada a long time ago.”:
10 “—Tell me, Marrano… if your voice is heard, what will you do then?”
“—When the enemy captures me, I will die singing.”
Announcer: It is customary to eat hard-boiled eggs (some people dip them in salt water) at the seder. While people are doing this, one individual reads:
The Sage, Hatam Sofer, asked: Why do we eat hard-boiled eggs at the seder? Because the egg, which becomes increasingly hard the more it is cooked, is symbolic of the character of the Jewish people: oppression toughens our resolve to live and flourish.
Announcer: We pour the second cup of wine and say:
We drink this second of four cups of wine to honor our forebears who remained faithful to Judaism and their community during two thousand long years of Exile. Their will to live as Jews was stronger even than the harsh and brutal oppression.
Announcer: Say this blessing on the wine and drink the second cup:
Exalted be the name of God, wise and compassionate Creator of the universe -- with its infinite beauty and wonder -- its boundless diversity joined in the Web of Life –- who brings forth from the earth the fruit of the vine.
The Third Cup of Wine
Announcer: We continue to go around the table with the reading.
On this night, we remember with love and admiration the resistance of the Jews in Nazi-occupied Europe.
Traumatized by the terror and forced starvation, by witnessing the brutal torture and hideous murders of their sisters and brothers, parents, children and older people by the Nazis and the collaborators among the peoples of Europe, and the nations who refused them asylum, they somehow found the strength and courage to resist the mass murderers.
Some resisted by organizing food and shelter, apartment house committees, prayer services, schools, and cultural and political activities to maintain Jewish spirits as well as Jewish bodies. Some organized rescue in bunkers and family camps in the forests, and in French villages, and arranged to hide children in Ursuline nunneries, with Belgian networks, the Dutch underground, and the Polish “Zegota.”
11 Others fought in the ghetto Undergrounds, concentration camps and death camps, and in Jewish and Soviet partisan units in the forests.
The Warsaw Ghetto Uprising, one of the many ghetto revolts, began on the first night of Passover, April 19th, 1943.
Denied arms by the Allies and by all the Polish underground groups except the ZZW and the Communists, the several thousand fighters took on the armored tanks and flame-throwers of the enemy. Each house was contested fiercely and bitterly, as in Soviet Stalingrad. The Battle continued until the Germans had burned the entire ghetto to the ground 43 days later.
The Warsaw Ghetto fought the Germans longer than any Continental European country with the exception of the Soviet Union.
The Partisans’ Song became the hymn of the Jewish Resistance:
Announcer: Those who know the tune, sing this Anthem; others can recite it.
Don’t say your life ends on the last mile of the way. For dusty clouds conceal the blue skies of the day. The hour we long for and we fight for now draws near When we’ll stand up and declare, “Look, we’re still here!”
Announcer: Pour the third cup of wine. One participant reads these words:
We drink this third of four cups of wine to honor the memory of the Jewish resistance. Their courage, their dedication, their loyalty inspires us.
Announcer: We say the blessing on the wine and drink the third cup:
Exalted be the name of God, wise and compassionate Creator of the universe -- with its infinite beauty and wonder, its boundless diversity joined in the Web of Life –- who brings forth from the earth the fruit of the vine.
Announcer: Someone, usually the youngest person present, will now open the door for Elijah the Prophet -- who spoke truth to power in the days of the First Monarchy, as did the Prophets Amos and Jeremiah – and in our own day, Dr. Martin Luther King, Archbishop Romero in El Salvador, Yevtushenko and Larry Kramer. The opener will leave the door open, and will read the first paragraph, and continue to stand near it as other participants read the next lines.
Let us never forget or forgive the perpetrators of the hideous, gruesome crime of the Holocaust; the genocide in Armenia, Bosnia, Rwanda, Cambodia, East Timor, Biafra, the Kurdish lands of Iraq under Saddam, and of the Native American nations; the enslavement of millions of Africans in our own country; and the Rape of Nanking. Let us bring to an end the crimes against humanity in Darfur and Congo, the traffic in women and children sex slaves, and the cultural genocide in Tibet and the suppression of protest there and in China.
12
Let us draw courage from those who risked their lives to save Jews during the Holocaust: We revere rescuers such as Raoul Wallenburg; the Danish people who transported virtually their entire Jewish population to safety in Sweden; the diplomats Sugihara, Mendez and others who dispensed visas at great risk; the priest later known as Pope John the 23rd who gave Jews phony baptismal certificates; the Italian military men in Croatia who diverted the deportation trains away from the death camps; the Bulgarians who refused to turn in the Jews.
Let us honor the memory of Dr. Raphael Lemkin, who dedicated his life to trying to ensure that the Holocaust would never be repeated anywhere against anyone else by defining the concept of the crime of genocide, drafting the Genocide Convention and working tirelessly to pressure the UN to adopt it. Let us venerate Romeo Dallaire, who tried to stop the genocide in Rwanda and rescue its victims.
Let us support the compassionate Earthers who fight against the crime of Terracide – the destruction of our planet, its animals and plants, its ecosystems, land, air and water. Give us the wisdom to listen to environmental rescuers the late Rachel Carson and Jacques Cousteau, Greenpeace, and the “Tree Huggers”; to St. Francis of Assisi, and animal protectionists Louis Gompertz, Helen Jones, Richard Calore, and many others.
Announcer: All those present sing of Elijah – Eliyahoo in Hebrew. “Navee” means Prophet. Eliyahoo Ha-Navee, Eliyahoo Ha- Tishbee, Eliyahoo, Eliyahoo, Eliyahoo Ha Giladee.… In our day, may he come fast With the Messiah at long last. David’s heir, one fair and just, With Eliyahoo whom we trust. Eliyahoo Ha-Navee, Eliyahoo Ha Tishbee, Eliyahoo, Eliyahoo, Eliyahoo, Ha Giladee.
Announcer: Now the door-opener, who has been standing nearby, says:
May we live to see the appearance of the Prophet Elijah, forerunner of the Reign of Peace in our own day. May we strengthen our determination to transform the life on this Planet to generate the groundwork for the onset of the Messianic Era.
Announcer: We may now close the door.
Mordechai Anilevitch, who became the commander of the Ghetto Resistance in 1942, told this to his youth group in the Warsaw Ghetto the year before:
(A participant reads):
“The most difficult struggle is the one within ourselves. Let us not get accustomed and adjusted to these conditions. The one who adjusts ceases to 13 discriminate between good and evil. He becomes a slave in body and soul. Whatever may happen to you, always remember: ‘Don’t adjust! Revolt against the reality!’.”
Anilevitch fell in battle in April, 1943. He was 19.
The “10 Strikes” ” (which is usually mistranslated as “The Ten Plagues”)
Announcer: Two participants will now read, one after another:
This was the lesson our ancestors in Egypt learned as they struggled with the Pharaoh to free themselves from bondage. The Torah relates that Ten Strikes were unleashed against the Egyptians as part of this struggle.
As we read the names of the Strikes aloud, we dip a finger into the wine and shake off a drop into the salt water bowl as each one is mentioned. Our sages said that the reason for this custom was to remind us that our cup of happiness cannot be full to overflowing if our freedom means the tragedy of others, even our sworn enemies.
Say aloud:
Blood. Frogs. Lice. Swarms of Flies. Plague. Boils. Hail. Locusts. Total Darkness. Striking of the First-Born.
Eating the Matza, Bitter Herbs (cut-up horseradish root or horseradish mixture); and charoses (a mixture of walnuts; apples and wine. It represents the mortar the slaves used to make bricks
Announcer: The youngest participant (who had asked the Four Questions) now asks:
Why do we eat matza?
Announcer: The individual who replied to the young questioner replies again:
Because in the days preceding our Exodus from Egypt, our foremothers were organizing all the details of our imminent departure. They could not bake the bread in advance because it would harden. Nor would there be time on the day of the Exodus to bake bread because dough is made with yeast which has to rise before it is baked. There wouldn’t be time for this because all the Jews would be in a hurry to leave. So they improvised flat cakes without yeast – matzos – that could be baked quickly and then taken along.
The Matza represents a rush to freedom. 14
Announcer: We say the standard blessing on all forms of bread, followed by the blessing on the matza, the special kind of bread we eat at Passover.
Exalted be the name of God, wise and compassionate Creator of the universe, with its infinite beauty and wonder -- its boundless diversity joined in the Web of Life -- Who brings forth bread from the earth.
Announcer: We now break pieces off of the top matza and the remaining half of the middle matza, and pass them around to everyone. We also pass around matzo balls. We then recite this blessing and eat the matza cakes and matza balls:
Exalted be the name of God, wise and compassionate Creator of the universe, with its infinite beauty and wonder—its boundless diversity joined in the Web of Life -- who obligated us to eat matza on Passover.
Announcer: Now 3 individuals each read a paragraph:
Jews were and are taught to experience the Exodus in each and every generation as if we ourselves had been liberated from Egypt along with the Jews of that time. The Torah and the Prophets constantly remind us to “pursue justice because you were slaves in Egypt.”
Our grandmothers and grandfathers carried out this teaching when they pioneered in organizing unions in Western and Eastern Europe and in North America to end the oppression of wage-slaves.
During the Massachusetts mill strikes of 1912, James Oppenheimer wrote the song “Bread and Roses,” which became a hymn of the strikers and later, of the women’s liberation movement.
Announcer: Let’s all sing this song or recite the words:
As we come marching, marching In the beauty of the day, A thousand darkened kitchens, A thousand mill lofts gray, Are touched with all the radiance That a sudden sun discloses For the people hear us singing, “Bread and Roses, Bread and Roses!”
Announcer: Now a celebrant will read the next paragraph.
In singing this hymn, we honor all who have advocated and fought for justice: socialists, artists and authors; union activists, religious workers, and feminists: Peter Kropotkin, Herzen, Victor Hugo, Zola, Upton Sinclair, Sakharov, Jacobo Timerman, Vladimir Herzog in Brazil; Emma Goldman; Representative Tom Lantos, Harvey Milk, Renee Epelbaum of the Argentine Mothers; Goya, Hogarth, Shostakovich and Pete Seeger; Cesar Chavez; the Abraham Lincoln Brigade; 15 feminists Mary Wollstonecraft, Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton, and Seaman, Chesler and Dworkin in our own day – among many others; and Daniel Pearl, and countless other journalists who unearth truth, often at great risk, and whistleblower Edward Snowden.
Announcer: We point to the bitter herbs and the youngest participant asks:
What is the meaning of eating bitter herbs?
Announcer: His previous (older) replier answers: The bitter herbs represent the bitterness of our bondage.
Announcer: We break the bottom matza (and, if necessary, others on the table) and pass around large pieces. We dip bitter herbs in charoses—which represents the clay for the bricks we made in Egypt, another symbol of our slavery – and place the mixture between two pieces of matza, then say this:
Exalted be the name of God, wise and compassionate Creator of the universe, with its infinite beauty and wonder -- its boundless diversity joined in the Web of Life—who obligated us to eat the bitter herbs.
Announcer: One individual says:
Our sages asked: why did we taste the matza – which represents freedom – before the bitter herbs – which represent slavery? After all , the historical events occurred in precisely the opposite sequence! The reason they gave is that only after we have a taste of freedom do we begin to understand the bitterness of our slavery.
“It Would Have Sufficed” (Da-yay-noo)
Announcer: We sing the traditional “Da-YAY-noo”, which enumerates everything we had to be thankful for during and after the Exodus. First, one individual reads:
We would have had enough to be grateful for had God only brought us out of Egypt, given us the Torah (Scriptures) and also the Sabbath. But God did not think that was enough to complete the liberation of former slaves. For that, the Jews needed to come back home to the Land of Canaan, where they would be able to engage in the healing, creative work of rebuilding their lives and communities as a free people.
Announcer: Let’s now sing the “Da-YAY-noo” (or recite it).
Had God brought us out of Egypt, brought us out of Pharaoh’s bondage, that alone would have sufficed us, Da-YAY-noo. Had God gave ex-slaves the Torah, gave us the Five Books of Moses, that alone would have sufficed us, Da-YAY-noo. If God gave ex-slaves the Sabbath, to rest up from six days’ labor, that alone would have sufficed us, Da-YAY-noo. If God brought us into Israel, to a land of milk and honey, 16 that alone would have sufficed us, Da-YAY-noo.
The Fourth Cup of Wine
Announcer: Now we pour the fourth (and last) cup of wine. Each participant reads one paragraph:
We will drink this fourth cup of wine at this seder to honor the Jews of our own time who have struggled and fought to establish and safeguard the Jewish State of Israel and to make it flourish as a refuge for Jews, the basis of political and cultural autonomy, and a spiritual center for Judaism.
We honor the thinkers and the Zionist organizers who created the intellectual and social infrastructure of Israel. We honor the pioneers who drained the swamps, irrigated the desert and created new forms of collective and egalitarian living. We honor the Jews who rescued and smuggled in thousands of immigrants the ruling British authorities called “illegal” and who later ingathered Jews from over 70 countries, including the Jews expelled from Arab states, in the early days of Independence, and later, one million Jews from the former Soviet Union. We honor the Jews who successfully fought against British colonial rule and have continued to defend Israel – in military and ideological battle -- since its birth in 1948.
We venerate the heroes who strive to bring peace to the land and reconciliation with its neighbors.
Let us revere advocates and pursuers of peace: Martin Buber; the Israeli peace movements; the assassinated Rabin and Sadat – and those in other times and places who espoused compassion and peace: Jesus, Budda, the Dalai Lama; Dorothy Day, Dag Hammarskjold; and Nelson Mandala, and the political leaders in Northern Ireland who brought about the reconciliation of former enemies.
We honor the Israelis who have continued to strive to fulfill their commitment to the vision of a just and egalitarian society. We dedicate this cup of wine to them.
Announcer: We say the blessing on the wine and drink the fourth cup:
Exalted be the name of God, wise and compassionate Creator of the universe -- with its infinite beauty and wonder -- its boundless diversity joined in the Web of Life –- who brings forth from the earth the fruit of the vine.
Announcer: To rejoice in Israel’s accomplishments as the first flower of our redemption as a nation, we now sing together the song, “Hava Nagila” (let us rejoice): Hava nagila, hava nagila, hava nagila – ve-nis-meh-chah (2x) Hava ne-rah-neh-nah, hava ne-rah-ne-nah, ha va ne-rah-ne-nah ve-nis-meh-cha. Oo-roo! Oo-roo a-chim! Oo-roo achim be-lev sa-may-ach (4x) 17 Oo-roo achim! Oo-roo ah-cheem! Beh-lev sa-may-ay-ay-ay ach!
Announcer: Now let’s rejoice by eating the Passover meal together.
Announcer: Now we need to find the Afeekomon, to conclude the meal officially. The individual who has found the broken half of the middle matza now returns it to the gathering so that everyone may eat (at least) an olive-sized piece.
(Participants eat a small piece of the Afeekomon.)
Announcer: Our ceremony ends with the traditional singing together of the Passover song, “Chad Gadya” –A Baby Goat” – which is considered an allegory for the history of the Jewish people:
CHAD GADYA: The Story of “A Baby Goat”
Chad gadya, one small goat. That my Daddy bought me with two coins called zuzim. Chad gadya, chad gadya.
Then a cat who was starving gobbled up the goat kid That Daddy bought me with two coins called zuzim. Chad gadya, chad gadya.
Then a dog came by who bit the hungry feline Who ate the little goat That Daddy bought me with two coins called zuzim. Chad gadya, chad gadya.
Then a stick flew by and struck the chomping canine Who bit the hungry cat Who ate the little goat That Daddy bought me with two coins called zuzim. Chad gadya, chad gadya.
Then a fire flared that burned the striking stick That beat the chomping dog Who bit the hungry cat Who ate the little goat That Daddy bought me with two coins called zuzim. Chad gadya, chad gadya.
Then some streaming water doused the scorching fire 18 That burned the striking stick That beat the chomping dog Who bit the hungry cat Who ate the little goat That Daddy bought me with two coins called zuzim. Chad gadya, chad gadya.
Then an ox came by and drank the quenching water That doused the scorching fire That burned the striking stick That beat the chomping dog Who bit the hungry cat Who ate the little goat That Daddy bought me with two coins called zuzim. Chad gadya, chad gadya.
Soon a shochet arrived and slew the thirsty ox Who drank the quenching water That doused the scorching fire That burned the striking stick That beat the chomping dog Who bit the hungry cat Who ate the little goat That Daddy bought me with two coins called zuzim. Chad gadya, chad gadya. *underlined words are to be emphasized
Then the Angel of Death moved in to slay the shochet Who slaughtered the thirsty ox Who drank the quenching water That doused the scorching fire That burned the striking stick That beat the chomping dog Who bit the hungry cat Who ate the little goat That Daddy bought me with two coins called zuzim. Chad gadya, chad gadya.
Then the Holy One destroyed Mal’ach Hamavet Who slaughtered the shochet Who slew the thirsty ox Who drank the quenching water That doused the scorching fire That burned the striking stick That beat the chomping dog Who bit the hungry cat Who ate the little goat That Daddy bought me with two coins called zuzim. Chad gadya, chad gadya. 19
(A NEW HAPPY ENDING – MAYBE “REVISIONIST” BUT ALSO MIDRASHIC)
The shochet revived and spared the thirsty ox Who drank the quenching water That doused the scorching fire That burned the flying stick That didn’t strike the dog Who didn’t bite the cat Who spit-up the goat – alive! And we all lived together in peace forever after…. Chad gadya, chad gadya.
ANnouncer: We conclude by voicing our hopes aloud together: Next Year in Jerusalem at Peace! Next Year in a World at Peace!
______Aviva Cantor authored five alternative seders before this one, including one she co-conducted in a women’s prison. The first two versions, “The Jewish Liberation Hagada,” were published by the Jewish Liberation Project in New York, 1971 and 1972; Itzhak Epstein wrote the section of the JLP Hagada telling the “Story of Our Liberation from Egypt” (pp. 4-6) in its original form. Cantor translated and transliterated all the Hebrew and Aramaic, including “Chad Gadya.”
The fifth version was “The Egalitarian Hagada,” self-published via Beruriah Books in 1991, 1992 and 1994. The author dedicated it to the memory of her Aunt Gittel Friedman Malar and Uncle Shmuel Malar, and their sons Izak and Lazar, who perished at the hands of the Nazis in Dubno, Ukraine, October, 1942; and to her paternal grandmother, Malka Waxman Cantor, murdered by the Nazis in Belarus in 1942. May they be sheltered under the wings of the Schechinah, God’s merciful maternal Presence in the world.
The author dedicates this Seder to the memory of her late husband Murray Zuckoff, a crusading journalist, devoted teacher, and fervent Socialist Zionist. who fought with his pen for truth and justice. He loved Israel, Yiddish, cats, books, folk art, music and Star Trek. May his memory be an inspiration.
© Copyright Aviva Canto, 2008, 2014. All Rights Reserved.
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