Pesach 2026
The Symbols of the Seder
Rabbi Chai Posner
It’s hard to think of a holiday with more symbols than Pesach. Matzah, maror, four cups of wine, the Seder plate with five symbols on one plate (six, depending on who’s counting), and even frogs! Pesach is the most symbol-filled holiday on the calendar – and that’s very much by design.
The symbols of Pesach sit at the center of the night. They shape how the story is told and how it’s experienced. We talk about slavery and freedom, but we also eat, lift, point to, and pass these symbols around the table. The Seder invites us to engage with the Exodus with our whole selves.
The Haggadah makes this point in a technical way. It teaches: “Yachol me’rosh chodesh…”(You can start learning from the beginning of the month) One might think the obligation to tell the story of the Exodus begins earlier in the month. Instead, the Haggadah insists that the telling happens “ba’avur zeh” (because of this) when these symbols are placed before us. In fact, this is why the Seder takes place at night: the telling of the story must be linked to eating the matzah and maror, and the mitzvah to eat them applies specifically at night.
The story of our redemption from Egypt is not meant to stay abstract. It is meant to be experienced –and re-experienced – every year. We recline and drink wine in stages, marking the movement from slavery toward freedom. We eat the bread of affliction. We taste bitterness. The halachic structure of the Seder turns ideas into actions.
This may help explain the remarkable reach of the Seder. More Jews participate in a Pesach Seder than in almost any other Jewish ritual. More than 60% of American Jews attend a Seder, and in Israel the number is close to 100%. Even Jews who feel distant from Jewish practice often find themselves at a Seder table.
There is something about the Seder that the masses connect to. Long before anyone spoke about “multi-sensory learning,” the Seder built it in. Pesach reminds us that stories last when they are experienced. The symbols of the Seder allow us to step into the story of the Exodus year after year. We don’t only recall what happened in Egypt – we give that memory a place at the table.
As you sit around your Seder table, I invite you to consider:
What is your favorite symbol on the table?
Why?
What does it tell you about our past?
What does it tell you about our future?
Enjoy!
10 Questions for the Seder
Rabbi Mitchell Wohlberg
The number 10 is a most significant one in Jewish tradition. We have the 10 Commandments, and 10 Plagues. Add to that my 10 Questions for the Pesach Seder, and the triumvirate is complete! Wishing you a Zissen Pesach – a sweet and joyous Passover holiday.
1
“Why is this night different from all other nights?” Because we are all together! It is told in the Torah that Moshe saw God “face to face.” Can you go through the Seder without looking at your cell phone? How about hiding it, like Afikomen, at dinner? Isn’t “face to face” better than Facebook?
2
In the list of the Ten Commandments found in the book of Deuteronomy, we are told the reason for observing the Sabbath: “And you shall remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt.” Having a day of rest reminds us that we are free. Charlie Kirk learned this lesson and wrote a book about it: Stop in The Name of God: Why Honoring the Sabbath Will Transform Your Life. What did he know about the Sabbath that so many of us don’t know? Try it! You might like it.
3
As the Jews pass through the Red Sea the Torah tells us that the water was a “wall” (Chomah) on the right and left.” Our sages read the word not as “chomah” (wall), but rather as “cheimah” - hatred. October7 brought with it the realization that there is hatred toward our people from the right and from the left. Which is the greater threat? Does it make a difference? Why are we hated?
4
Numerous times the Torah tells us: “Because you were strangers in Egypt [having experienced estrangement, depression and discrimination] you should know and sympathize with those in need.” How do these words shapeyour thinking regarding the issue of immigration?
5 The Egyptians turned against us, saying: “The children of Israel are more numerous and stronger than we are.” The reality is … we weren’t more numerous. Recently, podcaster Joe Rogan claimed there are 500 million Jews in the world. The reality is, there are only 15 million. Why do people always think there are more of us than there really are? Is that good for the Jews?
6
Our tradition teaches: “It was because of the merit of Jewish women that our sages were redeemed from Israel.” A recent survey found that in the non-Orthodox rabbinical schools today, more than half of the students are women. What does that say about the Jewish future? Do you think America is ready for a woman President?
7
We speak of the “four children” at the Seder. But now it is said there is a “fifth” one: the one who does not come to a Seder! A recent survey revealed that nearly 40% of American Jews do not attend a Pesach Seder. How is this possible? Will your grandchildren have a Seder? Are you sure? What can you do to make sure?
8
The Hagaddah repeats the Torah’s question, “When your children ask you, “What does this service mean to you?” There is a new question that has to be asked these days: “What does Israel mean to you? What will it mean to your children and your children’s children?”
9
The very same verse in the Hagaddah that tells us, “In every generation they rise up to destroy us,” concludes with the words, “But the Holy One, blessed by He, saves us from their hands.” Do you think our people’s survival is made possible by God? Do you believe that God is involved in your life? Do you believe in God?
10
We Jews dedicated ourselves to tikkun olam – “repairing the world.” We now discovered that won us few friends. But still, it was the right thing to do. Has the time come for Jews to repair the Jewish people?
EXTRA CREDIT: Really, why IS this night different from all other nights of the year? Wouldn’t it be nice if we all got together more often … as family? As Jews?
Music at the Seder
Chazzan Yoni Rose
As a child, I was keenly aware of the sounds around me. In fact, these are some of my most vivid memories. I especially remember the sounds that accompanied many of my religious experiences. To be sure, I paid close attention to the music, melodies, and chants of the synagogues I attended. But I also noticed and remember the ambient noises - the creaking of a chair as someone swayed with concentration, the man with the comic sneeze that only seemed to come in multiples of seven (seriously), and the off-key nasal responses of one particularly memorable seat-neighbor.
The Seder was no exception. My grandmother always sat directly to my left, was famously tone-deaf, and only knew the tune for Dayenu. My grandfather’s hearing-aids emitted a high-pitched squeal when he would shut them off sometime in the middle of Maggid to grab a nap before the matzah section. Even today, I notice the sounds of the Seder. Unsurprisingly, the main sound is crunching. Matzah has a very satisfying crunch as does romaine lettuce, often used for maror. There is always one adventurous attendee (every Seder has one) who tries to eat the sharpest horseradish and ends up sniffling to alleviate the
Yet the sound that always strikes me the most is silence. The Seder is a lively eventsinging, family conversation, commentaries on the Haggadah, and the reading of the Haggadah. Then, suddenly, we make a bracha, and silence reigns. Enforced silence takes over as we drink the four cups of wine or wait between washing our Rachtza and completing the requisite share of matza and maror.
I think this must reflect the experience of our ancestors during the Exodus. There was undoubtedly tremendous chaos during the final plague, as all the first-born Egyptians were killed. The movement of an entire nation created its own noise as the Jews left Egypt. Then, they stood at the Red Sea, an army bearing down on them, crying out to Hashem, and witnessed the splitting of the sea - all overwhelmingly loud. Then suddenly, they entered the dry land between the walls of water. Everything was still. They walked, awestruck by the incredible miracle they had just witnessed. The silence must have been deafening.
I hope your family notices these sounds - and what they representas you create your own memories during this year’s Seder.
Chag Kasher v’Sameach.
The Three Movements of Magid
Rabbi Jason Goldstein
Pesach night is a pedagogical experience like no other in the Jewish tradition. As we gather around the table, we reenact the formative journey of our people, from slaves of Pharaoh to servants of God. Seder means order. The night unfolds according to a carefully choreographed structure: first Kiddush, then washing, then Karpas, and so on.
However, Magid, the largest and most central section of the Haggadah, appears anything but orderly. It is an amalgamation of biblical verses, Tannaitic and Amoraic statements, and later additions. Where is the order?
Rabbi Asher Weiss posits that a more thorough analysis of Magid reveals not only a structure, but a progression that carries us through the night and guides us toward essential lessons.
Magid can be divided into three sections.
Section One begins with the foundational question:
“What is tonight all about? What are we doing here?”
The response is a broad one. We were once mired in degradation, and God redeemed us, transforming us into a people worthy of praise. This transformation is described in two parallel ways: we were enslaved in Egypt and brought to freedom; we were idol worshippers and were drawn near to serve God. Both formulations are essential. Ours is a history of both physical salvation and spiritual elevation.
This opening movement urges us to recount our story. The Haggadah then tells us why:
“For it was not only one person who rose up to destroy us: in every single generation people rise up to destroy us –but the Holy One, Blessed Be He, saves us from their hands.”
The story of redemption is not merely a memory of the distant past, but of the present and future as well. Against staggering odds, the Jewish people continue to thrive. We must continually retell our narrative - one of resilience, of renewal - and above all, miracles, both revealed and hidden.
Having established the imperative to recount and reflect, the Haggadah transitions into Section Two: the Exodus story itself. Framed by Devarim 26:5–8, a concise summary of descent into slavery and ascent to freedom, the text hermeneutically analyzes each phrase, inviting us to add our own interpretations. This is the most important section of the Haggadah. Here, we are not passive listeners but active participants, articulating the meaning of the Exodus in our own words.
To ensure that everyone can connect to this experience, the section concludes by anchoring the redemption from Egypt in physical symbols. Maror recalls subjugation. Pesach represents God’s protection of the Israelites and judgment of the Egyptians. Matzah signifies the redemption. Some are auditory learners, others visual or kinesthetic. The Haggadah employs multiple modes of engagement so that everyone can take part in the retelling.
Section Three, Hallel, is the pinnacle of the evening. Engaging with the story leads us to acknowledge God’s hand both in our history, and in our daily lives. We realize that is our duty to joyously thank, praise, and laud God now and for all time.