A Haggadah supplement by Central Synagogue.
הגדה 5784
2024 Haggadah Supplement
Why is this Passover different from all other Passovers?
In so many ways, today still feels like October 8th.
Ein Milim , it is still impossible to find the words to describe the October 7th terrorist attacks on Israel. And yet, Passover is here. The world around us is waking up to spring; a season of hope, but also a painful reminder of the long months our brothers and sisters have been in captivity, the endless days of violence and death. As we join together to tell the story of our people’s liberation and redemption, let us not forget those who are missing from our tables tonight: the parents who died shielding their children from bullets, the beautiful young people who danced into the night and never came home, the elders who fought for peace until the moment their lives were taken from them, the soldiers who rose up to defend the Jewish people. Let us not forget the innocent life lost in Gaza: the parents pulled from beneath the rubble, the children wrapped in white, the elders weeping for lost generations. As we remember the yoke of oppression, the parting of the sea, and that first taste of freedom, may we find our way through the pain to renewed hope.
Maggid: Telling The Story
How will we tell our story differently this year? The following poems were written by Israeli authors in the wake of October 7th. As you read each poem, notice the ways in which each poet weaves together imagery and texts from our Passover celebration with moments in Jewish history and the pain of October 7th.
At Our Seder Yitzhak Reicher Translated by Michael Bohnen, Heather Silverman & Rachel Korazim
At Our Seder A fifth glass for the war prisoners A sixth glass for the wounded We will add a chair for the hostages We will wrap memories with bitter herbs For the fallen, for the missing brothers.
לעברית תרגום View Hebrew translation
These are the names of the children of Israel who came to Egypt (Exodus 1:1) And these are the names of the children of Israel Eighty and another six nights And these are the names of those covered by darkness. And these are the names of those descending to the abyss of grief These Are the Names Yael Lifshitz Translated by Michael Bohnen, Heather Silverman & Rachel Korazim
Whose lives were abducted and cut off from their life. And these are names of the children of Israel whose cry Rises from the depth of the tunnels of darkness And there is no angel nor seraph* to save them Not even a single expression** of deliverance. But there is hope With trembling wings With the power to break out of the straits*** And call them by their names And draw them out To bring them back - to the land of the living.
* “And the Lord took us out": not through an angel, and not through a seraph. -Passover Haggadah ** There are four different terms used by God in describing the deliverance from Egypt, for it states: “And I will bring forth”, “and I shall deliver”, “and I shall redeem”, “and I shall take out”. (Exodus 6:6-7) *** Rashi: The word for straits is similar to the word for Egypt in the first line.
לעברית תרגום View Hebrew translation
My grandfather kept silent about all the horrors carved into his body Only the fading number on his left forearm Remained as an un-deciphered code of his past. “It is because of what God did for me” he mumbled in his waning days. Back then I didn’t pay attention I didn’t speak Polish. Once I had known how to ask Intelligently, innocently, with a pinch of malice. I skipped lightly from destruction to redemption From memorial days to rebirth The “It is because” silenced my nighttime fears. My daughters look at me like the child who does not know how to ask I want to prompt them It is Because Osnat Eldar Translated by Michael Bohnen, Heather Silverman & Rachel Korazim
In order to stabilize their cracked land To delineate for them the promised land But that Shabbat Holds me back from promising them “It is because of what God did for me when I left Egypt”*
*As for the child who does not know how to ask, you must prompt him [or: you must initiate the conversation with him], for it is written, “It is because of what God did for me when I left Egypt.” (Exodus, 13:8) --Passover Haggadah, based on the Mishnah
This Year’s Four Children
In a modern interpretation of the Four Sons written before October 7th, Einat Rimon imagines four daughters drawn from the biblical stories of four women. The fourth daughter, the daughter who does not know how to ask, is based on the story of the female captive in Deuteronomy 21.
The Four Daughters Einat Rimon Excerpted from
And the one who cannot ask, this is the beautiful female captive taken in war.
Only her silent weeping is heard, as it is written, “and she will weep for her father and mother” (Deuteronomy 21:13). We will begin for her. We will be her voice and she will be our judge. We will return her to her mother’s house and the home where she was born, and we will “proclaim freedom in the land, for all who live on it” (Leviticus 25:10)
Here is another interpretation of the Four Sons written after October 7th. How does each resonate with you?
All Four (Are One) Rabbi Rachel Barenblat
Today the Four Children are a Zionist, a Palestinian solidarity activist, a peacenik, and one who doesn’t know what to even dream. The Zionist, what does she say? Two thousand years we dreamed of return. “Next year in Jerusalem” is now, and hope is the beacon we steer by. The solidarity activist, what do they say? We know the heart of the stranger. To be oppressors is unbearable. Uplift the downtrodden. The peacenik, what does he say? We both love this land and neither is leaving. We’re in this together. Between the river and the sea two peoples must be free. And the one who doesn’t know what to even dream: feed that one sweet haroset , a reminder that building a just future has always been our call. All of us are wise. None of us is wicked. (Even the yetzer ha-ra is holy—without it no art would be made, no future imagined.) We are one people, one family. Not only because history’s flames never asked what kind of Jew one might be, but because the dream of collective liberation is our legacy.
We need each other in this wilderness. Only together can we build redemption.
Four Questions for Reflection and Reconciliation How different this night is from all other nights! On this night we come together across generations to tell the story of the Exodus from Egypt. At our shared table, we invite all who are hungry to come and eat with us, we ask questions of one another, we draw strength from the courage of Jewish communities across history, and we imagine a land of Promise in which all people can be free. Perhaps on other nights we have found ourselves at odds with members of our family and with friends. Tonight’s shared table offers us an opportunity for listening, lament, reconciliation, and imagination through four, additional questions for this year’s seder:
1. 2. 3. 4.
Since October 7th and the start of Israel’s war with Hamas, when have you felt pain? What aspects of the Exodus story resonate deeply with you this year? With which aspects of the story are you struggling? How can we use the story of the Exodus to connect with one another across lines of difference and disagreement? How can the story of Passover inspire us to envision a shared future?
A Modern Chad Gadya
Written in 1989, Chava Alberstein’s Chad Gadya still resonates strongly today. Which verses stand out to you?
Chad Gadya Chava Alberstein
Why are you singing “Chad Gadya”? Spring has not come yet, Passover isn't here What has changed for you? What has changed?
I myself have changed this year And on all nights, on all nights I have asked only four questions Tonight I have another question:
How long will the cycle of horror last? Hunter and hunted, beater and beaten When will this madness stop? And what has changed for you. What has changed? I myself have changed this year I used to be a sheep and a calm kid Today I am a leopard and a predator wolf I've been a dove and I've been a deer Today I don't know who I am Our father bought for two zuzim One kid, one kid Our father bought a kid for two zuzim And we're starting again from the beginning...
Finding Courage Through the Ages On April 19th, 1943, the eve of Passover, the Jews of the Warsaw Ghetto rose up against the German army. Written by Hirsh Glik and set to the music of Soviet composer Dmitry Pokrass, “Zog Nit Keynmol” (Never Say) was inspired by the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. It was the official hymn of the Vilna Partisan Fighters and is often referred to as “Partisan Song” or “Hymn of the Partisans.” On this Passover, let us draw inspiration and strength from their courageous fight.
Zog Nit Keynmol (Never Say) Hirsh Glik
Zog nit keyn mol az du geyst dem letsn veg, Khotsh himlen blayene farshteln bloye teg; Kumen vet nokh undzer oysgebenkte sho, S'vet a poyk ton undzer trot – mir zenen do! Fun grinem palmen-land biz vaytn land fun shney, Mir kumen on mit undzer payn, mit undzer vey, Un vu gefaln s'iz a shprots fun undzer blut, Shprotsn vet dort undzer gvure undzer mut. S'vet di morgn-zun bagildn undz dem haynt, Un der nekhtn vet farshvindn mitn faynt, Nor oyb farzamen vet di zun un der kayor- Vi a parol zol geyn dos lid fun dor tsu dor. Dos lid geshribn iz mit blut un nit mit blay, S'iz nit keyn lidl fun a foygl af der fray, Dos hot a folk tsvishn falndike vent Dos lid gezungen mit naganes in di hent. To zog nit keyn mol az du geyst dem letsn veg, Khotsh himlen blayene farshteln bloye teg; Kumen vet nokh undzer oysgebenkte sho, S'vet a poyk ton undzer trot – mir zenen do!
Never say this is the final road for you, Though leadened skies may cover over days of blue. As the hour that we longed for is so near, Our step beats out the message – we are here! From lands so green with palms to lands all white with snow, We shall be coming with our anguish and our woe, And where a spurt of our blood fell on the earth, There our courage and our spirit have rebirth. The early morning sun will brighten our day, And yesterday with our foe will fade away But if the sun delays and in the east remains – This song as password generations must maintain. This song was written with our blood and not with lead, It’s not a little tune that birds sing overhead. This song a people sang amid collapsing walls, With grenades in hand they heeded to the call. Therefore never say this is the final road for you, Though leadened skies may cover over days of blue. As the hour that we longed for is so near, Our step beats out the message – we are here!
Seder in Warsaw ghetto World Jewish Congress
Community Seder 2018 Central Synagogue
Next Year in Jerusalem
We conclude our seder by praying that we will be in Jerusalem next year. What does the Jerusalem that you long for look like? What is the Jerusalem of your Promised Land?
And what is my life span? I’m like a man gone out of Egypt: The Red Sea parts, I cross on dry land, two walls of water, On my right hand and on my left. Pharaoh’s army and his horsemen behind me. Before me the desert, Perhaps the Promised Land, too. That is my life span. And What Is My Life Span? Yehuda Amichai
ָדה ָּג ַה
Compiled and created by Central Synagogue New York, NY Special acknowledgements to Rabbi Hilly Haber
Rachel Korazim Danielle Beaton
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