TBS Haggadat Sholom - Supplement

THE TEMPLE BETH SHOLOM HAGGADAH

Haggadat Sholom

HALAILAH HAZEH

Reflections, Readings, and Commentary for Passover after October 7th with Rabbi Mishael Zion, Rabbi Noam Zion and the Temple Beth Sholom Clergy and Educators

Illustrations by Michel Kichka

In loving memory of Madeline Ila Kramer, who will forever be in our hearts, singing and dancing with us at our Seder Table

Susan & Arnie Baskies

Michael, Risa, Josh, Seth, & Danny Baskies

Doug, Miriam, Samuel, Molly, & Zoe Baskies

Pammy, Scott, & Lily Kramer

This illustration, by Michel Kichka, reflects the diversity of backgrounds and observance levels of the Jewish people. What is harder to see in this picture, but what I am sure also exists at this table, and at our own tables, is a diversity of opinion. We live in a contentious time, where different political and religious beliefs have strained and even fractured relationships. The Haggadah gives us time-worn wisdom and perspectives to help us make sense of the world so that we can confront the challenges we face today. It is ok to disagree about how to apply these values, but the way we disagree matters. As I wrote on page 29 of Haggadat Sholom, Rav Kook teaches that hearing different opinions should help us achieve our common goals of greater understanding and more meaningful action. In addition to this, our guiding value of shalom bayit, shalom in the home, must also be kept in mind whenever we gather together. It can help to be explicit about these goals when inviting your Seder guests and restating them at the table before the Seder begins. In short: we are here to learn, to share and to celebrate. For this to happen we need to listen, to be patient, and to be kind. Even if we don’t agree on everything (and I am sure we won’t), we can still celebrate this night that unites Jews around the world to celebrate the freedom that allowed us to express our opinions.

~Rabbi Micah Peltz

A MESSAGE FROM RABBI MICAH PELTZ

The Passover Haggadah provides us with stories and teachings that connect us to our past and help us to understand our present. The freedom that we celebrate does not only commemorate our liberation from Egypt, but also reminds us that each generation faces its own unique challenges to renew that freedom. This year, we encounter the Haggadah at our Passover Seders for the first time since October 7th. A day where we saw the worst massacres of Jews since the Holocaust. The fact that this took place in Israel, the refuge for the Jewish people, has amplified the shock and horror of Hamas’ horrific terrorist attack. The alarming rise in antisemitism and Jew hatred since October 7th has also shaken us. How do we respond, as Jews, to this new reality?

Seder offers an opportunity to reaffirm Jewish identity and activist solidarity in the face of the aggressive encirclement by Iran’s coalition to wipe out Israel and in confronting the explosion of a broad-based diverse Western antisemitism, on the left and the right, that delegitimates the existence of Israel and morally defends Hamas’ massacre and hostage-taking as a legitimate act in a Palestinian “war of liberation.”

Further this new Haggadah must make a contribution to renewed hope, “Next Year in Jerusalem.” It must be joyous, colorful, inclusive – not depressing. It must honor the extraordinary military heroism of the citizen army, civic volunteerism and Jewish national and international solidarity, and celebrate the values of freedom and democratic equality internally, within Jewish society.”

Twenty years ago, Rabbi Mishael Zion published The Israeli Haggadah: Halailah Hazeh. This wonderful Haggadah brought the diversity of modern Israeli thought and experiences to the Passover Seder. This year, Rabbi Zion decided to update his Haggadah to keep pace with the growth and changes in Israeli identity, as well as the war with Hamas. Here is an excerpt from the introduction that describes this project:

“Mishael has foregrounded new sources and artwork to help families integrate, symbolically and emotionally, the trauma of the massacres of last Simhat Torah with the joy of the Jewish family holiday par excellence, Passover. More broadly, Israeli society and many American Jews are experiencing painfully an existential truth, a renewed understanding of the Haggadah’s maxim: “In every generation they rise up to destroy us,” the Jewish people.” The

We have taken pieces from Rabbi Zion’s updated Haggadah and added commentary from TBS Clergy and Educators to connect it with our community’s experience. This Haggadah Supplement will become a wonderful additional to our family of Haggadot Sholom. We are grateful for the continued support of the Baskies’ Family, who lovingly dedicate their gift in memory of Madeline Ila Kramer.

Thanks to generous donations to our Am Yisrael Hai Fund, TBS purchased 500 of these new Haggadot for the most hard-hit and traumatized families in Israel. We have also received permission from Rabbi Zion to adapt his work for our community. That is what you will find in the pages of this very important Passover Supplement.

May the words and thoughts in this Haggadah supplement give us strength by reminding us that we have faced hatred many times in our history, and yet we have always prevailed. By standing together, as one people, we will do so again today.

KIDDUSH: PROCLAIMING OUR IDENTITY AS PART OF THE PEOPLE OF ISRAEL

By RaBBi Steven Lindemann

A number of years ago, a friend was visiting us for Shabbat, and as sunset was quickly approaching of Friday evening, he asked one of our children “when does Shabbat begin?” To which he received the response: “When mom says so.”

Shabbat and holidays may begin at specific hours, according to tradition (18 minutes before sunset), but it is really up to us to declare the day sanctified with a blessing. Indeed, Sforno (16th century, Italy) points out in his commentary on Exodus (12:2) that God puts the calendar in our hands, because only a free people can control their time.

So it is with Kiddush. Kiddush means sanctification or holiness. The prayer declares the sanctity of Shabbat and/ or holidays, in accordance with God’s commandments. But while God may designate these occasions as Holy, it is up to us to make them truly special by our observance.

As we recite Kiddush at the Pesah Seder, we are declaring the sanctity of the day, the celebration of the Seder and Passover. But there is more to it than that. We are proclaiming that the memory of the Exodus (Zekher Litziyat Mitzrayim) is essential to who we are as a people, and that has a number of important implications. Freedom is not only fundamental to our existence as a people, it is a value that we believe must be preserved for all people. It is freedom of religion in this country that allows us to gather for the Seder, tonight. But freedom from Egypt would have remained incomplete without a destination, a land in which to live as a free people. That land was Israel. Every time we recite Kiddush, we are proclaiming our identity as part of the people of Israel, and, today, that includes our commitment to the State of Israel. The connection to past, people, and land are part of the declaration of holiness.

What begins with Kiddush, at the start of the Seder, concludes with the words “Next Year In Jerusalem.”

When does all of this begin? When we say so with Kiddush, and then live by those words.

KADESH Blessing over the First Cup of Wine

See Page 16 in Haggadat Sholom

URHATZ Hand Washing without a blessing

See Page 18 in Haggadat Sholom

URHATZ:PREPARING OURSELVES FOR THE PASSOVER TALE

By RaBBi BRyan WexleR

MA NISHTANAH HALAILAH HAZEH

MIKOL HALEILOT?

WHAT MAKES THIS NIGHT

DIFFERENT FROM ALL OTHER NIGHTS OF THE YEAR?

A lot.

One difference is that during the Seder we wash our hands not once, but twice!

Why twice?

And what is the difference between the two hand-washings of the Seder?

The first time we wash our hands during the Seder is called urhatz. It comes at the beginning of the Seder, nestled between kadesh, and karpas. This first handwashing is done without the usual blessing for washing hands. There are several interpretations for this initial hand-washing, but the one I like best is that washing our hands helps us to prepare ourselves and to be physically ready for the Passover tale of freedom and redemption.

The second hand-washing, rahtzah, occurs after the telling of the Passover story and before the first blessing over the matzah. This second hand-washing does include the blessing al netilat yadayim. This second hand-washing is more closely related to the food about to be consumed. Now, we can see that the two hand-washing experiences during the Seder are respectively about ritual (or spiritual) purity and actual cleanliness.

Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook (Rav Kook), the first Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi of British Mandate Palestine, suggested that the first hand-washing is individual and the second, communal. So, perhaps we wash our

hands initially, at the beginning, to ready ourselves, to be present in the moment of this important ritual. And the second hand-washing, at the end of the Passover story, can bring us all together, reminding us of our collective freedom. We come to our Passover Seder as individuals, with our own stories and our own needs, and we join a communal experience, weaving together each of our perspectives with our ancient story and leave not feeling the weight of slavery but rather the joy of freedom, together.

But this Passover, our hearts are heavier as we think of our brothers and sisters in Israel, the horrors of October 7th, and all that has transpired in the months since. In my recent solidarity mission to Israel, I bore witness with my eyes and listened with my ears and my heart to stories of heartbreak, tragedy, and courage. Each Israeli, directly impacted in some way by the devastation of October 7th and the subsequent war in Gaza, has a story to share. Taken together, these stories share a narrative of collective trauma, grief, and pain. These stories must be shared and we must do whatever we can to support our brothers and sisters in Israel during this dark hour. Yet, as we turn to wash our hands at the Seder, the water, mayim, reminds us of life. In fact, in our Jewish tradition, water is a symbol of life. The water of Israel, the life-force of Israel is to be found in the courage, hutzpah, and care found within the souls of each and every Israeli. Life is to be found in Israel’s deep sense of humanity, the relentless sense of perseverance found among Israel and the Jewish people, and the undying commitment to hope that lives in their and our hearts.

THE FIELDS OF KARPAS

By alex WeinBeRg, DiRectoR of congRegational leaRning

Passover is anything but routine. While we have our set order (Seder), each part of this Pesah experience is designed to challenge us to think critically about our community, freedom, and connection to God.

The Seder begins like a “normal” meal: we sing Kiddush over wine (Kadesh), and perform the ritual hand washing (Urhatz), but then we break the mold and eat the green vegetable (Karpas). How else is this night different from all other nights? Karpas challenges us to stop and ask the question.

This year as we celebrate Zeman Heruiteinu, the time of our freedom, after the Black Shabbat of October 7th, there seem to be many more questions that feel very different.

When will the hostages be free? How will we respond to the rampant rise in antisemitism?

This year the exploration of the Exodus and celebration of the Israelites, becoming B’nai Horin, free people, doesn’t feel like an ancient idea, and the questions we are asking about Israel and the Jewish community hit much closer to home.

In the Talmud the rabbis also explored the meaning of Karpas. In Masekhet Sotah there is a midrash, rabbinic fable, that explains that the reason for eating Karpas at the Seder was to remember the Israelite women who would go into the fields to give birth to try to hide from the Egyptians and the murderous decree of the Pharoah for the newborn baby boys:

“And once the Egyptians would notice them, realizing that they were Jewish babies, they would come to kill them. But a miracle would occur for them and they would be absorbed by the earth. And the Egyptians would then bring oxen and would plow upon them, as it is stated: “The plowers plowed upon my back; they made long their furrows” (Psalms 129:3). After the Egyptians would leave, the babies would emerge and exit the ground like grass of the field, as it is stated: “I caused you to increase even as the growth of the field” (Ezekiel 16:7).

This is a haunting image as we remember the many kibbutzim and farming communities that were savagely attacked by Hamas on October 7th. The images of burned houses, now each with memorials to those who were murdered or kidnapped, were surrounded by the types of fields that the midrash describes. These fields provide up to 75% of vegetables and 20% of the fruit that is eaten throughout Israel.

Just as the images of the burned houses will be part of our collective memories, so too will the images of Israelis and people from around the world who came to these fields to help the crops continue to grow and harvest. Each field harvested, and the food saved, was a reminder of the mantra throughout Israel, “Yahad Ninatzea’ah” together we will prevail.

(continued on next page)

KARPAS

Eating the Spring Vegetable

See Page 19 in Haggadat Sholom

KARPAS

Eating the Spring

Vegetable

See Page 19 in Haggadat Sholom

(continued from previous page)

Kibbutznikim, the residents of the farming communities throughout Israel, have been responsible for raising up so much of Israel throughout its history. Like the midrash in Masekhet Sotah, these areas will rise again in celebration of community and connection with the land. For many in Israel it is hard to talk about the day after—it is still October 7th. But, as one resident of Nir Oz, a tiny kibbutz a few kilometers from Gaza that had almost 100 of its 400 residents killed or kidnapped explained, she will come back because it is “home.”

Just as when the Israelites dealt with the Egyptians many generations ago, Israel will not let Hamas end our story, and we will continue taking on the challenge of eating Karpas to ask our questions at Pesah every year.

IN ADDITION TO CHALLENGING SEDER PARTICIPANTS TO ASK QUESTIONS OTHER REASONS FOR EATING KARPAS AT THE SEDER INCLUDE:

Imitating the Romans, the free people of the time of the rabbis, who ate pickled vegetables. What does freedom mean to you?

We remember our years of slavery in Egypt and the tears we shed by dipping the vegetable into saltwater. What are we enslaved to this year?

Passover is also called Hag HaAviv, the spring holiday, so we eat green vegetables in celebration of the season. What new moments of growth have we experienced since last Passosver?

The most practical reason for Karpas, is to make sure we aren’t so hungry that we rush through the Seder just to get to Shulhan Orekh, dinner. This answers the most important question of “when do we eat?”

BREAKING THE MIDDLE MATZAH AND EMBRACING THE BROKENNESS IN OUR WORLD

Inviting the Missing Persons, Still Missed, to our Seder

By RaBBi noam Zion

The Seder gives us a chance to tell the stories not only of our ancestors but of those who have no voice, those who are missing from our table but not from our heart. Some are beloved parents and grandparents who once played a central role in our Seder, some are cut off members of our worldwide Jewish family and some are just family members who could not join us and it hurts to pass over that poignant absence without marking it. Rituals have been created for making the missing seem present.

The tradition of pouring a cup “for the missing” began in the kibbutzim during World War II when the Fourth Cup was dedicated to the many kibbutz members who had volunteered to serve in the British Army fighting the Nazis. In the 1970s and 1980s, many left an empty chair at the table or added a fourth matzah for Soviet Jews or Syrian Jews who were not free to celebrate Passover or to make aliyah. Since then, these persecuted Jews have gained their freedom and re-joined us around the table. Today, an empty place setting might be left for those massacred and kidnapped in the war with Hamas and those Israeli soldiers who fell in defense of their homes and families.

Entering the Broken World

By RaBBi miShaeL Zion

The Pesah story begins in a broken world, amidst slavery and oppression. The sound of the breaking of the matzah sends us into that fractured existence, only to become whole again when we find the broken half, the afikoman, at the end of the Seder.

This brokenness is not just a physical or political situation: It reminds us of all those hard, damaged places within ourselves. All those narrow places from which we want to break to free.

In Hebrew, Egypt is called Mitzrayim, reminding us of the word tzar, narrow. Thus, in Hassidic thought, Mitzrayim symbolizes the inner straits that trap our souls. Yet even here we can find a unique value, as the Hassidic saying teaches us: “There is nothing more whole – than a broken heart.”

Whose name you would like to add to that list of those whom we miss this Seder? Tell their story as part of Maggid.

YAHATZ Breaking the Middle Matzah

See Page 20 in Haggadat Sholom

“To

Be a Free People in our Land”

By yiShai SaRid

At least two Aramaic texts encounter every Jew in his life: the mourner’s Kaddish and the haggadah’s opening festive declaration Ha Lahma Anya, “This is the bread of affliction!” The Seder begins with a memory from the past: the bread of the poor, the matzah that recalls enslavement and humiliation, the hatred for the Jews, and the murderousness of the tyranny of Pharaoh. We are obligated to remember!

Immediately thereafter comes the social mitzvah: “Let everyone who hungers, come and eat; all in need, come to partake in the Passover meal. The traumas we experienced do not release us from our moral responsibilities today. We are obligated to extend our hand to those in need of our aid.

for freedom: “This year slaves – next year freedom!” We returned to our homeland to be free, as a people and as human beings. In the Israeli Declaration of Independence we committed ourselves that Israel would be a state of free women and men without discrimination based on religion, race or gender. We will not be infected by the corrupt racism that persecuted us in the lands of our exile. That is the magnanimous spirit from which the Israeli democracy was born. That is the dream we realized by virtue of sacrifices too precious to bear. Now we defend it mightily in the name of our parents and for the sake of our children and our people.

HALAKHMA ANYA:

This year we are slaves, next year free people!

This is the bread of poverty and persecution that our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt.

Then Ha Lahma Anya, continues with the hope for redemption … which is the dream of that brought my grandparents to Israel from Bagdad, Casablanca, Tsaana in Yemen, Warsaw and Berlin. They rebuilt Israel with enormous devotion and realized the generations-long dreams with their own hands.

Finally, it concludes with the aspiration

This year we are still here –Next year, in the land of Israel.

This year we are still slaves –Next year, free people.

Yishai Sarid, the novelist, published this reflection on the Passover Seder in the The Haggadah of the Protest, 2023. His father Yosi Sarid was a leftwing Israeli parliamentarian.

“To Be a Free People in our Land” derives from HaTikvah, the Israeli national Anthem, and this slogan has often been quoted by demonstrators protesting the proposed rightwing reform of the judicial system, 2023.

MA NISHTANAH CONTEMPORARY QUESTIONS UNANSWERED

A Seder Ice Breaker: How is This Year Different?

By RaBBi miShaeL Zion

When extended families and distant friends gather for the annual Seder, it is usual to catch up and ask what is new. To deepen this exchange, some families ask each one at the table to report briefly, to everyone or to share with those sitting next to them, the most important ways in which they or their world has changed since last year’s Seder? On one hand, there are personal milestones and sometimes losses to be marked and how we have tried to grow and cope. On the other hand, especially in 2023, the collective worldview of many Jews –the experience of physical and social vulnerability to attack and delegitimation, authoritarianism and the threat to democracy, the antisemitism and anti-Zionism and radical Islam –have raised challenging questions and disorientation.

“When the Going Gets Tough”

What are the new or newly acute questions we ask ourselves this year about our Jewish identity?

By tikvah FRymeR kenSky, pRoFeSSoR oF BiBLe, Reading the Women oF the BiBLe

The actions of the women of the Exodus story, the “righteous women of that generation;” are memorable and praiseworthy; but they are not extraordinary, not limited merely to a few heroines of the past. We all have seen the strength of women in adversity. Women fight to keep their families together in times of war, economic deprivation, and epidemics. Reticent dependent women “who never balanced a checkbook” turn into superwomen when they have to nurse ailing husbands or raise their families alone because of widowhood or divorce. All the strengths and talents that have been invisible - even to the woman herself - start coming to the fore. It is as if women are turned inside out by trouble: when the going gets tough, it seems women get going.

“In every generation we [women] must look upon ourselves as if we (were the women who came out of Egypt).”

MAGGID Telling

the Story of Leaving Egypt

See Page 24

The New Ukrainian Haggadah: “For Our Freedom”

By Za naShu SvoBodu (2024)

My first Pesah lasted about 4 hours in a small university canteen, packed mainly with people my grandfather’s age. I understood nothing because the entire celebration was in Hebrew. I was 12 years old. Later, at one of Project Kesher’s Jewish seminars in the 2000s, we had a day devoted to the Pesah story, where I finally understood what the holiday was about, what events it referred to, and who the main characters were... I was 22 years old then.

In 2022, when my family gathered for the Pesah Seder, I held a “training” Seder for them: I explained the symbolic meaning of certain foods, told them the Exodus story and focused on how long it had taken for the Jews to get out of slavery. It was the second month of the full-scale war [in which Ukraine has been defending its independence against the Russian invasion]. The air raid siren was howling and I was unsure whether we should stay at the table or run to a shelter. I found some comfort in the fact that during WWII Jews, even in death camps, had practiced some of the rituals of Pesah… Unfortunately, many Ukrainian Jews do not speak Hebrew and can’t understand the prayers and texts, and accordingly many have to read the Passover texts in Russian.

[In 2024] we aim to celebrate Pesah not only in the language we inherited from our forefathers and foremothers, the holy Hebrew, but also in Ukrainian - a language that has become a symbol of courage, fortitude, and indomitable will, the language of the land where we were born and raised. The name of our new Haggadah is “For Our Freedom” and these words appear in the Ukrainian national anthem, “Soul and body shall we sacrifice for our freedom.” The new Ukrainian Haggadah created by Project Kesher resonates with the mood of Ukrainian Jewry, that, in response to the full-scale Russian invasion, has continued to forge its distinctive identity. Its title, “For Our Freedom,” reflects our desire to unite for the sake of our freedom and to choose our identity as Ukrainian Jews.

FOUR CONTEMPORARY ISRAELI CHILDREN:SONS AND DAUGHTERS

By RaBBi miShaeL Zion

Today, as in the past, many Jewish families feel the challenging problem of the generation gap over their definition of Jewish identity, Jewish loyalty, and the pursuit of tikkun olam. That parents necessarily have different memories and experiences than their children is the original reason for the Haggadah. It is natural, says the Torah, that children will ask about the significance of the Jewish commitments and rituals central to their parents’ and grandparents’ worldviews and practices. It is good though not unproblematic when children and parents inquire of each other about the gaps in perspective and values. Generationally divergent experiences of Israel in both North America and Israel itself can be at the center of such communication if we allow ourselves to be honest, open and genuine.

In the Haggadah the rabbis promote a differentiated view of the questions posed by their diverse children and the appropriate responses. Who is the wise daughter or son and what questions do we promote? Who, if any of our children, is the “rasha” understood as wicked or rebellious or, perhaps, courageously critical? When is alienation from Jewish identity more a product of the parents’ inadequate educational approach or the child’s youth revolt or his or her anti-status quo idealism. Recall that Elijah’s hopeful prophecy is that somehow he “will turn the hearts of the parents to their children, and the hearts of the children to their parents” (Malachi 3:4)

The Jew is a Dispute Incarnate

By phiLip Roth

“WHY COULDN’T THE JEWS be one people? Why must Jews be in conflict with one another? Why must they be in conflict with themselves? Because divisiveness is not just between Jew and Jew — it is within the individual Jew. Is there a more manifold personality in all the world? I don’t say divided. Divided is nothing . . . But inside every Jew there is a mob of Jews. The good Jew, the bad Jew. The new Jew, the old Jew. The lover of Jews, the hater of Jews. The friend of the goy, the enemy of the goy. The arrogant Jew, the wounded Jew. The pious Jew, the rascal Jew. The coarse Jew, the gentle Jew. The defiant Jew, the appeasing Jew. The Jewish Jew, the de-Jewed Jew. Shall I go on? So I have to expound upon the Jew as a three-thousand-year amassment of mirrored fragments . . . Is it any wonder that a Jew is always disputing? He is a dispute, incarnate.”

(Operation Shylock, USA, 1993)

MAGGID

Telling the Story of Leaving Egypt

See Page 32 in Haggadat Sholom

THE FOUR ISRAELI WOMEN: WHO REPRESENTS THE IDEAL IMAGE OF THE WISE WOMAN IN CONTEMPORARY SOCIETY ?

By micheL kichka, 2024

The Protestor in Anti-Judicial Reform demonstrations (held for nine months weekly in 2023) is explicitly modelled on Tova Sheleg, the short, curlyheaded law student, daughter of two politically liberal religious journalists, who organized the Jerusalem branch of the judicial protests aimed at uniting religious protestors (Orthodox, Conserative and Reform) with secularists from left, center and right to defend the principles of the Israeli Declaration of Independence and the separation of powers in a Jewish Democratic state.

Religious Zionist settler studying Talmud (Daf Yomi) represents a new trend of religious women studying Talmud.

Israeli reserve combat officer and mother reflects the unprecedented role of women IDF soldiers fighting Hamas terrorists.

All-woman Israeli tank crews killed 50 terrorists who overran Israeli communities near Gaza during 17 hours of combat on October 7th, 2023, and they were the first Israeli (and perhaps Western) women soldiers to go into active battle. One soldier said: “You keep saying ‘heroines’ and ‘historic’… I don’t feel like a hero. I feel like I’m a soldier that was given a job, and I did my job. I think anyone would have done that.” Another reported: “You think about the civilians trapped in their homes and the people that needed us. You understand that there was no room for fear.” (One of the tank officers graduated from the Hartman

Lona is a secular Israeli and a popular Kenyan-Israeli Olympic marathon runner. Her personal best time for the marathon is 2:17:45, which when she ran it in 2020 made her the sixth-fastest woman in history, the secondfastest European all-time, and set a new Israeli national record. (She came to Israel in 2008, to work as a nanny for the children of Kenya’s Ambassador to Israel and married the Israeli track coach Dan Salpeter).

A SIMPLE GIRL’S QUESTION: HOW CAN WE, TOO, GO OUT OF EGYPT TONIGHT?

By tamaR eL ad-appeLBaim, RaBBi and FoundeR oF kehiLL at Zion, JeRuSaLem; FoundeR oF the haRtman inStitute iSRaeLi RaBBinicaL SeminaRy

On one Seder night in a suburb of Tel Aviv, when I was a little girl of approximately seven, our extended family, the Bouskilas, originally from Morocco, gathered around the Passover table of my beloved grandparents, Saba Ya’ish and Savta Zari, may they rest in peace. We began the Seder with great excitement, in song and in joy. But the Seder got longer and longer, and my grandfather noticed that everyone was growing tired, even though they had not yet finished the Magid section of the Haggadah and so we had not arrived at the meal, Shulkhan Orekh. So he announced: “My sweet ones! There are some tired people here, so let’s ask Savta, the daughters-in-law, and the beloved granddaughters to go to the kitchen to prepare the food, while the rest of us complete the readings from the Haggadah. Thus we will succeed in speeding up a bit the Exodus from Egypt tonight.”

Moses replied to Pharaoh: “We will go [out of Egypt, all of us] with both our children and our grandparents.”

(Exodus 10:9)

Everyone thought the plan was very reasonable. Savta Zari got up and went to the kitchen. So too, my mother and my aunts. Now it was my turn, the oldest of the granddaughters, and all the other women were already

(continued on next page)

MAGGID Telling the Story of Leaving Egypt

See Page 57 in Haggadat Sholom

(continued from previous page)

in the kitchen. But suddenly, I stood up, a little girl arrayed against the Seder table, and I cried out: “No, Saba! My dear Saba, you taught me that on this night everyone went out of Egypt together. You taught me that we are all free and we are all destined to live as a free people in Eretz Yisrael.

But now you are sending the women to the kitchen? How will we too, the whole family together, get to the land of Israel?“

I asked the question of a simple child. The question of a simple girl, a granddaughter.

Silence. Everyone went quiet. Then my beloved Saba Ya’ish arose and announced: “The girl is right. Just as then – so tonight, just as then - so also always, we will exit Egypt only when we are all together, the whole family, and everyone helping until we arrive!”

On that night in my grandparents’ home near Tel Aviv, the whole Bouskila family went out of Egypt. Together we finished the Magid portion of the Haggadah. Together we went to the kitchen. Together we all helped. And together we merited to become free men and free women in Israel. That night we sang until the middle of the night – Hallel, the Song of Songs, songs of praise and liturgical poems. On that night Saba Ya’ish and Savta Zari showed us the way to the land of Israel, the way of family togetherness, the way of moderation and tolerance, the way of honoring God’s creatures in humility, listening to one another and taking mutual responsibility for one another.

In every generation... they rise up against us to wipe us out

THREE MATZOT = ONE PEOPLE

About a month after October 7th, I read a powerful article by my teacher Dr. Mijal Bitton. It was called “That Pain You’re Feeling is Peoplehood.” She wrote how that feeling of heaviness that has weighed on our community, and on our own hearts, we could call peoplehood. Peoplehood is that sense of connection we feel when a stranger passes by wearing a Star of David around her neck. It is the pride we feel when a fellow Jew succeeds in sports or wins a Nobel prize. And peoplehood is also the anger and fear we feel when we read about another antisemitic attack on a college campus. A deeper sense of peoplehood is what many of us have been feeling.

In a way, peoplehood is the core message of the Passover Seder. It is through the Exodus from Egypt that we became a people. Still, we know that feeling a sense of connection and love for all Jews is not always easy. There are plenty of things we disagree about, and that can strain what binds us together. How do we stay united as a people despite our differences?

One model we can look at is the three matzot we have at our Seder table. Unlike Shabbat, where we have two loaves of hallah commemorating the two portions of manna that God rained down to the Israelites in the desert every Friday, on Passover we have three. Why is this? Some point to a practical

By RaBBi Micah Peltz

reason: three matzot are needed so that when we break the middle matzah at Yahatz we are still left with two whole pieces for HaMotzi. This makes sense, yet there are other, more interesting, interpretations.

Some say that the three matzot represent our three Patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, who each had a unique relationship with God. Others say that they represent the three angels, disguised as human beings, who visited Abraham and Sarah in their tent. According to tradition, each of these angels had a specific role to play in the story. Still another interpretation says that the three matzot are symbolic of the three statuses of Jews: Kohanim (Priests), Levi’im (Levites), and Israelites, all of whom were liberated from Egypt.

Each of these different interpretations express a common theme: we might have unique opinions or roles, but we are all a necessary part of the Jewish people. And even more than this, if any one part is missing, then we are incomplete. The three matzot on our Seder table symbolize the importance of peoplehood. Though we might observe, believe and behave differently, we are strongest when we are one people, and yahad n’natzei’ah – together, we will prevail.

MAROR

Eating the bitter herbs

See Page 64 in Haggadat Sholom

THE BITTER TRUTH

By RaBBi alicia RothaMel

Maror, the bitter herbs, are central to the Passover Seder. They are one of the three key ingredients to the Passover sacrifice, making maror just as important as the lamb and the matzah. It has been this way since the beginning. When God spoke to Aaron and Moses with the instructions on the Passover sacrifice, God instructed Israel to eat it with bitter herbs.

But why? The sacrifice of the lamb makes sense. The blood was a necessary part of the ritual to keep the Israelites safe. The matzah is also essential. Part of Passover observance from that day until now was eating unleavened bread. For seven days there will be no hametz, while eating matzah. However, the maror seems to serve no additional purpose. It is not tied to any specific ritual, nor does it call to mind the eating of a quick meal. Finally, God instructs the Jewish people to have a sevenday festival to remember the miracle that saved us from the plague. Shouldn’t we eat honey to savor the sweet memory of our redemption instead of bitter herbs?

According to the Haggadah, the maror is eaten because the Egyptians embittered the lives of our ancestors in Egypt. Rabbi Daniel Bouskila notes in his article, “The Bitter Truth, A Sephardic Reflection on Maror”, that bitterness does not simply reflect our lives under Egyptian slavery. Rabbi Bouskila feels the bitterness plays a formative role in the Jewish story. He explains, “the Jewish experience is

as much about bitterness as it is about celebration, and while that might seem like a paradox to many, Jews understand that life is lived between a laugh and a tear. Thus, on the very night when we celebrate our freedom from slavery, we have no problem embracing bitterness and recognize its ongoing presence and centrality in our collective story.”

Our collective story now includes October 7th. It will be difficult, if not impossible, to sit down at our Seder and conduct it without taking a moment to reflect on all that has happened to our people over the past year. Our minds may be tempted to focus only on the bitterness and the tears we hold in our collective hearts. Indeed, those feelings will be central to our story. But we must also remember that the story of Passover is the beginning of our redemption, not the end. We started out as slaves in Egypt, but we finish the story as free people. Since this is the case, maror’s bitterness now symbolizes who we used to be, not who we will become.

We are living out a moment of our own history and our future continues to unfold before us. We have already tasted the maror and we have made so many personal sacrifices. As we sit down at our Seder table this year, let us take a moment to recall maror’s place in our story. But when we do, let us also remember that bitterness is only part of the journey on the path towards our joyous completion.

WHAT ARE WE GRATEFUL FOR THIS PASSOVER? By cantoR Jen cohen

Can you go around the table and share something for which you’re grateful?

We’ve finished our delicious meal! We’ve found and shared the delicious (to some, including this cantor) afikomen and handed out prizes! How are you feeling? Full, for sure. And grateful, perhaps?

Perfect, because we’ve come to the “Barekh” section of our Seder. It’s a change in vowels from a word you know well: barukh – bless. As Jews, we bless God to thank God for providing this food for us. The first blessing (page 76) concludes “Blessed are You, God, sustaining all life.” With so many in the world hungry, with fear and challenges for Israel, the Jewish people, our own families, there’s much to be thankful for and so many reasons to thank God for what we do have. And to pray that more people will find safety and sustenance in this world.

Finally, as with the Amidah or Birkat Kohanim – the priestly blessing –the Barekh section of our Seder ends with the most important berakha of all: the blessing for peace. “Adonai oz le’amo yiten, Adonai yevarekh et amo va-shalom – God, give us strength, and bless us with peace.”

And to that, we all surely say, Ameyn

See Page 70 in Haggadat

“PRAISE THE LORD”: THE BLESSING FOR THE REDEMPTION OF CAPTIVES: WHAT BLESSING DOES ONE SAY WHEN YOU SUDDENLY GET YOUR LIFE BACK?

By Jacky Levy

“The kids have returned!” That is all one can mumble. While our family is usually very verbal, during this long period of the children in captivity, everything had shrunk to a few isolated words of hope: “They will come back!” For two months our deficiency in words has thrown us into the arms of both old songs and Biblical verses, the Israeli musical feed and the childhood heritage of our Judaism. When we have nothing to say, we try to rely on a good quote. Then every classic line, every verse and every word reveals itself anew. Suddenly they are charged with relevance as if they had been written just for this moment.

Ever since we finally saw the faces of these children of Kibbutz Nir Oz and among them, Sahar and Erez, the words coursing repeatedly in my heart are from the opening of the Psalm recited on Passover:

“Praise God! For God is good and divine kindness is forever!” That is what those redeemed by God from the hand of the enemy declare.’” (Ps. 107:1-2).

How often have I recited those wellworn festive words in the past, but never once took the time to think how those redeemed are really meant to feel. What does a human being feel

and say when granted his life anew after having been held hostage in the hands of his enemy. After those one loves have spent days, weeks or months in a place where their lives are not worth a cent, then suddenly the time for a hug arrives – the very opposite of the clutches of “the enemy’s hands.” Then apparently, one says: “Praise God! For God is good and divine kindness is forever!”

Even though in this leftwing Zionist family of kibbutzniks, I am almost the only one whoever prays and feels at home among these ancient verses, something like “Praise God!” is exactly what the children’s mother, Hadas, said. She said these words after they announced to her that they had been liberated and after she concluded roaring like a lioness who had just rescued her cubs from the teeth of the jackals. After Hadas stretched up her arms to the heavens (arms which I think have of late become elongated by ten centimeters), then she said, “Yes, there is a God!” That is just an updated version of saying “Praise God, for God is good!”

Jacky Levy is a popular Jerusalem performer and author of children’s stories, whose relatives, Sahar and Erez Calderon, aged 16 and 12, were kidnapped to Gaza by the army of Hamas on Simhat Torah, Oct. 7, and then redeemed in a hostage exchange after 52 days in captivity. Their father, Ofer, who was injured in the attack, was not returned in the hostage exchange.

...ךְָתְָמֲָחֲ ךְֹפְֹשְׁ

Pour out your wrath...

A VOW

By avRaham ShLonSky

The Israeli poet Avraham Shlonsky composed “A Vow” for Pesah in 1943 after reading early reports about the Nazi extermination of European Jewry. Its Hebrew name, “Neder” refers to the Kol Nidrei ceremony promulgating the official forgiveness of all unfulfilled vows before Yom Kippur. In this case, the Holocaust, however, the poet refuses to be absolved his vow to remember and pledges his eternal righteous indignation lest we forget and lest we learn nothing from our experience with genocide.

By my eyes which witnessed the slaughter

By my heart that was weighed down by cries for justice

By my compassion that taught me to pardon

Until the days came that were too terrible to forgive,

I have sworn: To remember it all,

To remember – nothing to forget!

Forget not one thing to the last generation

Until my indignation shall be extinguished

When the staff of my moral rebuke shall has struck until exhausted.

A vow: Lest for nothing shall the night of terror have passed.

A vow: Lest for nothing shall I return to my wont

Without having learned anything, even this time.

(Shlonsky’s powerful poem is quoted in the Kibbutz Haggadah of Nahal Oz from 1956 immediately after the traditional text, “Pour Out Your Wrath.” Next to the poem is a handmade drawing of an olive branch and a sword. 67 years later on October 7th, 2023, many of the kibbutz members, including several of the original founders, now quite elderly, were murdered, while many others were abducted to Gaza as hostages by the Hamas Army.)

BAREKH

Grace

After Meals

See Page 80 in Haggadat Sholom

NIRTZAH

Concluding Songs

See Page 95 in Haggadat Sholom

PRAYER: TO HOLD ON TO HOPE WITHOUT LETTING GO

By oded ma ZoR

“For everything there is a season under Heaven.

A time for weeping and a time for laughing,

A time for mourning and a time for dancing,

A time for war and a time for peace. “ (Ecclesiastes 3: 1,4,8)

In those days when each time collapses into the next

We have no choice but to cry and to laugh with the same eyes

To mourn and to dance at the same time

And the long arc of history is compressed into one day and one hour.

We ask for the strength to contain

The intensity of our bursting hearts,

To rejoice with those who are fortunate to embrace today,

To enfold all of those withdrawing into their longing, their souls trembling,

To hold on to hope without letting go,

And to leave some quiet space for a silent scream.

Please, grant us the room to shatter into pieces,

And the spirit to be rebuilt, anew.

Oded Mazor, Rabbi of Kol Haneshama, a reform synagogue in Jerusalem, and recited at the demonstration for the release of captives, Jerusalem, 2023)

May there be good news

Since October 7th many Israelis have greeted each other not with the usual “shalom” or “lhitraot,” but the traditional good wishes associated with Elijah the prophet: “besorot tovot.” May there be good news!

Next Year in Jerusalem!