#NextYearInPerson: a Digital Haggadah for a Virtual Seder

© the *extraordinary* Made By Rebekah

This week, many of us will celebrate a Passover that is different from all other Passovers. Instead of inviting guests into our home — or heading out to attend someone else's sacred seder gathering— we will be huddled in our own homes, while a plague swirls outside. Much like our ancestors in Egypt who celebrated the first Passover in a state of anxiety and preparation, listening to sounds of death all around, we too experience Passover this year in a state of heightened worry, plague, and frantic anticipation. And like them, we hope for redemption in the morning.

Today, I offer you some unique and simple ways to think about and reinterpret Passover prayers and rituals for this unparalleled moment in our contemporary history.

Of course, it’d be wonderful if we could all find copies of the well-worn haggadot we’re used to reading from each year, but that’s not always possible in the virtual world! Zadie’s Haggadah isn’t accessible to us this year so what is the next best thing? A digital Haggadah!

I wrote this Haggadah last year for my Passover seder with my closest friends, and it was a huge hit. Minimal Hebrew (not that there is anything wrong with Hebrew of course! It is just that this experience can be more accessible for all! In my instance, I personally perform all the Hebrew parts with great pride and joy) and my secular and of-faith but non-Jewish best pals had a profound experience as we gathered together and read from this very collection of thoughts.

Last year: Passover, 2019

Some things become clearer when our world goes Quiet. When life as we knew it moves inward. Much like our ancestors of old, across the globe, we too in this moment of uncertainty are being asked to travel great distances to find safety and redemption. It is just that our journey today is not geographical, it is internal. The journey we are taking is ever-inward and one of self-reflection. That can be as harrowing as any geographic journey, and sometimes filled with far more confrontation and perceived danger. 

To quote MyJewishLearning.com:

    “In quarantine and isolation, many of us are realizing, or admitting, what is true in our most intimate relationships. We notice how we feel about being home with our significant other for the indefinite future, or how we feel about being alone. We notice whether seeing a particular name pop up on our phones awakens anxiety or joy. Suddenly we can perceive who in our lives provides us comfort or a good laugh, which favorite foods or songs can carry us through a challenging time, or when we long for solitude.”

Recently, this photo was circulated across the media of two brave, essential, and inter-faith health workers in Israel. The photo is of these men pausing amidst the chaos of their emergency Coronavirus-related workload to pray next to their shared ambulance. One man is Jewish, draped in his tallit, the other man is Muslim, kneeling on his prayer rug— one faces Jerusalem, the other Mecca. This moment is shared, profound and sacred on a thousand immeasurable levels. These workers are the human beings who valiantly act from hope instead of fear, in their integrity and in their purpose. Like Moses, Miriam and Aaron, who led the Israelites out of Egypt, they are building relationships and coalitions in order to forge a pathway out of this crisis. They choose generosity and action, even at great personal cost or risk. 

“The whole world is battling this,” one said. © Magen David Adom

Here is to you, essential workers of the world: you are made up of all creeds, colors, and backgrounds, but we share the common root of the human being’s capacity to endure.


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So let’s begin this Passover Seder!

Below is my own take on the Haggadah—with personal additions of my favorite poetry and prose to match the sentiments of the stages of the seder— for your own digital or in-person enjoyment.

Traditionally at the end of the Passover seder, we say “Next year in the Holy Land.”

This year, that holy land is back together. So I say (inspired by the beautiful online hashtag campaign by my new obsession, the extraordinary lifestyle blogger, “Made by Rebekah:”)

    “Next year, in person.”

Amen.

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 INTRO

THE PASSOVER SEDER 

The Passover Seder is one of the most important celebrations on the Jewish cultural calendar. It provides a setting of family love and unity in which all Jews can rededicate themselves to the ideal of human freedom and growth.

The ritual of the occasion involves the use of certain symbolic foods:

P'RI HA-GAPHEN "the fruit of the vine" - wine or grape juice
MATSAH unleavened bread
MAROR a bitter herb (horseradish, green onion, or romaine lettuce)
KARPAS parsley or celery
Z'ROAan animal bone or a beet (for vegetarians)
BEITSAH an egg, hard-boiled then roasted
TAPPUZ an orange (a recent addition)
HAROSET a condiment made from fruits, nuts, spices, and wine

WHY WE ARE TOGETHER TONIGHT

LEADER:

We have come together this evening for many reasons. We are here because Spring is all around, the Earth is reborn, and it is a good time to celebrate with family and friends. We are here because we are Jews, because we are members of the Jewish nation, with its deep historic roots and its valuable old memories and stories. We are here to remember the old story of the liberation of the ancient Hebrews from slavery in Egypt - a great struggle for freedom and dignity. We are here because the struggle for human freedom never stops. We are here to remember all people - Jews and non-Jews - who are still struggling for their freedom.

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

*

this year? use whatever you've got!

1. NEROT - CANDLES

LEADER: Let us begin!


[Begin taking turns reading. Each person is invited to read a grouped set of lines - or to pass.]

    ◆    It is said, there is nothing new under the sun, yet nothing remains the same.
    ◆    Against the backdrop of eternity, the earth displays an ever-changing countenance. The sun rises and the sun sets, yet each day and each season is fresh and new.
    ◆    Slowly, one season emerges from another. The harshness of ice and snow yields to gentle, nourishing showers.
    ◆    Inevitably, the cold, dark days succumb to the warmth and light of Spring.
    ◆    We rejoice in the warm light and rich blessings of this season.
    ◆    The celebration of Passover represents the perennial rebirth and survival of the Jewish people and the world of nature.
    ◆    The light of these candles symbolizes a renewal of life, a reaffirmation of freedom.


READING:

“I learned without her saying a word that there are truly many ways to pray, and lighting a candle is one of them.” ― Pat Schneider

ALL: Let us bless the light as we gather together to kindle the festival candles. With the light of liberation let us bless life.

[The candles are lit.]


*

L'Chaim you guys!

2. KIDDUSH - DEDICATION - THE 1ST CUP OF THE FRUIT OF THE VINE

LEADER: Let us all fill our glasses with the fruit of the vine.

[Resume taking turns reading. Each person is invited to read a grouped set of lines - or to pass!]

    ◆    Spring is the season of new growth and new life. Every living thing must either grow or die; growth is a sign and a condition of life.
    ◆    Human beings are perhaps unique among the Earth's inhabitants. Our most significant growth takes place inwardly. We grow as we achieve new insights, new knowledge, new goals.
    ◆    Let us raise our cups to signify our gratitude for life, and for the joy of knowing inner growth, which gives human life its meaning.

READING [this is the traditional Hebrew prayer, the transliteration, and the English translation]: 

Baruch atah, Adonai Eloheinu, Melech haolam, borei p'ri hagafen.
Baruch atah, Adonai Eloheinu, Melech haolam, asher bachar banu mikol am, v'rom'manu mikol lashon, v'kid'shanu b'mitzvotav.

Vatiten lanu, Adonai Eloheinu, b'ahavah mo-adim l'simchah, chagim uz'manim l'sason, et yom Chag HaMatzot hazeh, z'man cheiruteinu, mikra kodesh, zeicher litziat Mitzrayim. Ki vanu vacharta v'otanu kidashta mikol haamim umo-adei kodsh'cha b'simchah uv'sason hinchaltanu.

Baruch atah, Adonai m'kadeish Yisrael v'hazmanim.

Attention, gentlemen, [rabbis, and my teachers]! Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who creates the fruit of the vine. (Amen)
Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, Who chose us from all the nations, and elevated us above all tongues, and sanctified us with His commandments. And You gave us, Lord our God, with love, [Sabbaths for rest and] festivals for happiness, holidays and times for joy, this day of the Festival of Matzos, the time of our freedom

    ◆    Together, with raised cups, let us say: The fruit of the vine - with it, let us drink "To Life!"

ALL: “L’Chaim!”


*

"A Mac-a-baby's gotta do what a Mac-a-baby's gotta DO!"

3. THE MEANING OF THE PASSOVER STORY

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

[Resume taking turns reading. Each person is invited to read a grouped set of lines - or to pass!]

    ◆    Even though death has pursued us relentlessly, time and time again, we have chosen to live.
    ◆    During the many centuries of the Jewish experience, memories of destruction are tempered by the knowledge that the world can also be good.
    ◆    We have endured slavery and humiliation. We have also enjoyed freedom and power. Darkness has been balanced by light.
    ◆    Our forebears traveled the Earth in search of the safety and liberty they knew must exist. We have learned to endure. We have learned to progress. We are proud survivors.

READING, from After Anatevka: 

“Human life is to be lived, my sons,” said the rabbi to the whole group once more. “The Israelites are told to ‘choose life.’ They are promised a long and fruitful life if they abide by God’s commandments. If the purpose of life is to live it, then the Exodus from Egypt is a journey from death into life—from a culture that focuses beyond this world to one that embraces it. And thus the theological questions changes too, as we ask whether a God who loves life would ask God’s children to throw their gifts away in any kind of slavery. Do you see?” 

LEADER: We celebrate our good fortune and seek the advancement of all oppressed peoples.

ALL: Here here [or, Amen.]

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4. MAGGID - STORY-TELLER

[Take turns reading.]

LEADER: Let us tell a story of Jewish hope.

    ◆    The tale of our people's first quest for freedom from slavery in Egypt was written so long ago that no one knows how much of it is fact and how much is fiction. Like all good stories, however, its moral lessons are valid and important.
    ◆    It is written that long ago, during a time of famine, the ancient Israelites traveled to Egypt. According to this legend, the Israelites at that time were all in a single-family - Jacob and his children. One of Jacob's sons was Joseph. He was so wise that the ruler of Egypt - the Pharaoh - made Joseph a leader over all the people of Egypt. But as time passed, another Pharaoh became the ruler of Egypt. He did not remember Joseph and his wise leadership.
    ◆    This new Pharaoh turned the Israelites into slaves and burdened them with heavy work and sorrow. After the Israelites were in Egypt for over 400 years, a man named Moses arose among them. He demanded that Pharaoh let his people go! Many times he risked his life to insist on the freedom of his people until he finally succeeded. At our Passover Seder, we celebrate the story of Moses and the people he led out of slavery 3000 years ago. We celebrate the struggle of all people to be free.
    ◆    Throughout the centuries, the story of Moses and the exodus from Egypt has inspired Jews and non-Jews in times of persecution and hardship.
    ◆    Let us remember that the thirst for freedom exists in all people.
    ◆    Many centuries after the legendary time of Moses, African people were brought to America as slaves. These slaves longed for freedom, and they were inspired by the story of Moses and the ancient Israelites.

LEADER: The freedom we celebrate tonight is not only freedom from slavery. It is also the freedom to live in peace, with dignity and with hope for a bright future. This constant vision has inspired the Jewish people since ancient times when the Bible was written.


    ◆    For centuries, most Jews lived in Europe, where they were often persecuted. They were driven from place to place, and their lives were often filled with terror and despair. There came a time when many Jewish families learned of a place called America, where people could live without fear. This was the promise that America held out to them and to many other suffering people. By the thousands, and then by the millions, year after year they crossed a large ocean.
    ◆    Enduring separation from all they had known, they faced the dangers of a long voyage before reaching the shores of America. For a time, many suffered from poverty and disease. Yet their courage, perseverance, and skills helped to advance the freedoms that we celebrate here tonight.
    ◆    This evening, as we celebrate our own freedom let us take notice of the on-going struggles toward freedom here and in many other parts of the world. Let us celebrate all these struggles, with our ultimate American freedom poem, which is a prayer for America being (and remaining), a country of welcome:

READING -

"The New Colossus" By Emma Lazarus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

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PART 2 



5. OUR PLEASURE DIMINISHED BY THE PAIN OF OTHERS

LEADER: Let us all refill our cups. [refill your wine, whee!]

My "Plagues of Egypt" eggs (because I hate feeling left out...)

Tonight we drink four cups of the fruit of the vine. There are many explanations for this custom. They may be seen as symbols of various things: the four corners of the earth, for freedom, must live everywhere; the four seasons of the year, for freedom's cycle must last through all the seasons; or the four matriarchs: Sarah, Rebecca, Leah, and Rachel.

A full cup of wine symbolizes complete happiness.

The triumph of Passover is diminished by the sacrifice of many human lives when ten plagues were visited upon the people of Egypt.

In the story, the plagues that befell the Egyptians resulted from the decisions of tyrants, but the greatest suffering occurred among those who had no choice but to follow. It is fitting that we mourn their loss of life, and express our sorrow over their suffering. For as Jews and as Humanists we cannot take joy in the suffering of others.

Therefore, let us diminish the wine in our cups as we recall the ten plagues that befell the Egyptian people.

As we recite the name of each plague, in English and then in Hebrew, please dip a finger in your wine and then touch your plate to remove the drop.

ALL:

Blood - Dam (Dahm)
Frogs - Ts'phardea (Ts'phar-DEH-ah)
Gnats - Kinim (Kih-NEEM)
Flies - Arov (Ah-ROV)
Cattle Disease - Dever (DEH-vehr)
Boils - Sh'hin (Sh'-KHEEN)
Hail - Barad (Bah-RAHD)
Locusts - `Arbeh (Ar-BEH)
Darkness - Hoshekh (KHO-shekh)
Death of the Firstborn - Makkat B'khorot (Ma-kat B'kho-ROT)

[Take turns reading.]

In the same spirit, our celebration today also is shadowed by our awareness of continuing sorrow and oppression in all parts of the world. Ancient plagues are mirrored in modern tragedies. In our own time, as in ancient Egypt, ordinary people suffer and die as a result of the actions of the tyrants who rule over them. While we may rejoice in the defeat of tyrants in our own time, we must also express our sorrow at the suffering of the many innocent people who had little or no choice but to follow.

LEADER: As the pain of others diminishes our joys, let us once more diminish the ceremonial drink of our festival as we together recite the names of these modern plagues:

Hunger

Last year: at the Winter Palace

War
Tyranny
Greed
Bigotry
Injustice
Hatred
Violence
Intolerance
Poverty
Abuse of Animals (and those who cannot verbally speak for themselves)
Ignorance
Inequality
Pollution of the Earth
Indifference to Suffering
and, this year of 2020 in particular:
     Global Pandemic and Plague

LEADER: Let us visit a poem expressing hope:


READING:

"The Hope I Know" by Thomas Centolella, 2017

The Hope I know
doesn’t come with feathers.
It lives in flip-flops and, in cold weather,
a hooded sweatshirt, like a heavyweight
in training, or a monk who has taken
a half-hearted vow of perseverance.
It only has half a heart, the hope I know.
The other half it flings to every stalking hurt.
It wears a poker face, quietly reciting
the laws of probability, and gladly
takes a back seat to faith and love,
it’s that many times removed
from when it had youth on its side
and beauty. Half the world wishes
to stay as it is, half to become
whatever it can dream,
while the hope I know struggles
to keep its eyes open and its mind
from combing an unpeopled beach.
Congregations sway and croon,
constituents vote across their party line,
rescue parties wait for a break
in the weather. And who goes to sleep
with a prayer on the lips or half a smile
knows some kind of hope.
Though not the hope I know,
which slinks from dream to dream
without ID or ally, traveling best at night,
keeping to the back roads and the shadows,
approaching the radiant city
without ever quite arriving.

*

6. THE SECOND CUP DEDICATED TO THE STRUGGLE FOR PEACE AND FREEDOM

[Take turns reading.]

LEADER: The second cup of wine is dedicated not only to the struggles of the Jewish people, but to all people seeking a secure life free of fear and persecution. We hope and work particularly for the Israelis and the Palestinians that they may all learn to live together in freedom and peace—but also our own broken country of Left and Right.


READING:
Let us strive to fulfill the words of the prophet Micah:

    "They shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation shall not take up sword against nation, they shall never again know war. But they shall sit every one under their vines and fig trees, and none shall make them afraid" (Micah 4.3-4).

LEADER: Let us all raise our glasses in a toast to peace and freedom for all:

ALL:    "To Peace and Freedom!"

LEADER: And now it is time to answer the FOUR questions about what makes this night different from all other nights!



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7. ARBA QUSHYOT - FOUR QUESTIONS! 

LEADER: One of the customs of the seder is the asking of questions - questions about what the ritual actions of the seder mean. The Passover tradition involves the youngest children asking - actually singing - about these matters. (If there aren't any kids, no problem. Just peer pressure the youngest person present to do the asking. Last year, Alec was the youngest person in attendance and he asked the questions with very little grumpiness and to great aplomb...)

1Q. Why is this night different from all other nights?
1A: On all other nights we eat either bread or matzah.

2Q. Why, on this night, do we eat only matzah?
2A. On all other nights we eat herbs of any kind.

3Q. Why, on this night, do we eat only bitter herbs? Why, on this night, do we dip them twice?
3A. On all other nights, we do not dip our herbs even once.

4Q. Why, on this night, do we eat while leaning?
4A. On all other nights, we eat either sitting or leaning.

ANSWERS!!! 

MATZAH - UNLEAVENED BREAD [Matsah held up for all to see.]



LEADER:
1. Why is this night different from all other nights? Why, on this night, do we eat only matzah?

[Take turns reading]

Matzah is the symbol of our affliction and our freedom.
Legend has it that when Moses and his followers fled Egypt, they moved so quickly that the bread they baked did not have time to rise.
However, scholars have noted that long before the Jews celebrated Passover, Middle Eastern farmers celebrated a spring festival of unleavened bread.
This was a festival where unleavened bread was made from the fresh barley grain newly harvested at this time of the year.
The old fermented dough was thrown out so that last year's grain would not be mixed with this year's.
Therefore, the new season began with the eating of unleavened bread - matzah.
Later on, the Jewish people incorporated this agricultural festival into the celebration of freedom and renewal we now call Passover.

LEADER: Let us now say a blessing for the matzah! Let us bring forth matzah - food from the land - so we all may be satisfied and sustained.
Let us all now eat a piece of matzah!

[All eat]

MAROR - THE BITTER HERB - [Maror held up for all to see.]

LEADER:
2. Why, on this night, do we eat only bitter herbs? Why, on this night, do we dip them twice?

[Take turns reading.]

Why do we eat maror?
Tradition says that this bitter herb is to remind us of the time of our slavery.
We force ourselves to taste pain so that we may more readily value pleasure.
Scholars inform us that bitter herbs were eaten at spring festivals in ancient times.
The sharpness of the taste awakened the senses and made the people feel at one with nature's revival.
Thus, maror is the stimulus of life, reminding us that struggle is better than the complacent acceptance of injustice.

LEADER: As a blessing for the maror, let us all sing this song about striving to be fully human. Then we will all take a taste of horseradish on a piece of matzah.

BLESSING: Where people are less than human, strive to be fully human.


DIPPING GREENS IN SALTWATER MATBILIN KARPAS

LEADER:
3. Why do we dip our food in saltwater two times on this night? The first time, the salty taste reminds us of the tears we cried when we were slaves. [Greens held up for all to see.]

Parsley and celery are symbols of all kinds of spring greenery.
The second time, the saltwater and the green can help us to remember the ocean and green plants and the Earth, from which we get the water and air and food that enable us to live.

LEADER: Let us bless the fruit of the Earth. [Please dip your parsley into saltwater two times and eat it.]

M'SUBIN - LEANING

LEADER:
4. Why, on this night, do we eat while leaning?

[take turns reading]

Why do we eat while leaning on this night? In ancient Rome, rich people used to eat while lying on a couch leaning on one elbow as slaves and servants fed them. Some ancient Jews saw this relaxed type of eating as a sign of freedom and prosperity, so they would lean to one side eating at the seder on Passover, the festival of freedom. Some modern Jews, working with others, helped create greater liberty and well-being for the world. Today, we celebrate freedom and equality by sitting up and feeding ourselves, but the leaning question remains in the service as a reminder of how it was when our people longed for freedom.

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MORE QUESTIONS! 
We have now answered the four traditional questions! But there are still more questions to be answered.

There are other special foods on our Seder plate:

a bone (z'roa)
and a beet,
a roasted egg (beitsah)
and an orange, and, many people's favorite, the sweet condiment (haroset).

Why are they here?

Z'ROA can mean a shank bone - the bone of a forelimb - or a vegetable. This lamb's bone is the symbol of the ancient shepherd's festival of Pesah or Passover. It was celebrated at the time of the full moon in the month lambs and goats were born. At that time, each family would sacrifice a young lamb or goat at a spring feast. Jews ended these sacrifices when the Jerusalem Temple was destroyed. Since z'roa also means vegetable, a beet can be used instead of an animal bone on the seder plate. The Jewish people are very diverse, so the rabbis who wrote the Talmud acknowledged this vegetarian alternative.

BEITSAH - EGG
Beitsah is the egg of life, a symbol of the birth of the young in spring. Each of us begins as an egg and grows to adulthood. The egg reminds us of our evolutionary past and of the gifts of human inheritance. But the egg is fragile. It represents potential that can be destroyed. Left alone, its life would perish. Growing life needs warmth and love and security, guidance, hope, and vision. To achieve their full potential, human beings need the support and encouragement of family and community. Beitsah symbolizes the fragility and interdependence of life.

[All who so desire may now eat a piece of egg.]

TAPPUZ - ORANGE
We place this fruit among our ceremonial foods as a symbol of our efforts to make sexual minorities feel acknowledged in our community. We recognize the contributions made by these family members and friends. By inviting and welcoming all with open hearts and open minds, we celebrate diversity and freedom. We put an orange on our seder plate as a new symbol of liberation around sexuality and gender roles.

[All may eat a piece of orange.]

HAROSET - CONDIMENT
Fruits, nuts, spices, and wine are combined to make this sweet condiment. Being the color of clay or mortar, it reminds us of the bricks and mortar used by slaves - Jews and others - in building the Pharaohs' palaces and cities. Yet the taste of haroset is sweet, and thus reminds us of the sweetness of freedom. Leader: Let us now all eat haroset on a piece of matzah. We now make a little sandwich - called a "korekh" or a "Hillel sandwich;" tradition credits Rabbi Hillel with creating this sandwich 2000 years ago. By eating some bitter herb (maror) and some haroset between two pieces of matzah, you can taste the "bittersweet" meaning of Passover.

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Gorgeous DIY seder plate from © made by Rebekah [#NextYearInPerson]

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PART 3

8. REMEMBRANCE - THE THIRD CUP

LEADER: Let us all refill our cups.

[Take turns reading.]

    ◆    During this festival of life, let us remember our lost sisters and brothers - the millions of Jews enslaved and killed in the Holocaust. We remember them along with all the others who suffered.
    ◆    They were all parts of the rainbow - of ethnic, religious and sexual minorities, of progressive activists, resistance fighters, and people with disabilities. Their experiences of anguish and death are with us, even in our times of celebration. We resolve that their memory shall not be lost.
    ◆    We accept the responsibility of working to prevent such suffering from ever again occurring on this earth. We remember the heroism of those who fought against fascism and tyranny in the forests and the cities of Europe. Men, women, and children who loved freedom and humanity struggled with their own hands against the powerful armies of those who sought to oppress and kill them.

LEADER: We were slaves in Egypt and we were slaves in fascist Europe— and an ever-growing Fascist world today. We have much to remember. Let us raise our glasses to those who were taken from us, for those who are currently threatened still today, and to those who fought and continue to fight for freedom and life.

ALL: "L'Chaim!"

[All drink the third cup.]

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9. FOR A BETTER WORLD - THE FOURTH CUP

LEADER: Let us all refill our cups. [Leader picks up the cup for all to see.]

This is the cup of hope. The seder tradition involves pouring a cup for the Hebrew prophet Elijah. For millennia, Jews opened the door for him, inviting him to join their seders, hoping that he would bring with him a messiah to save the world.

Yet the tasks of saving the world - once ascribed to prophets, messiahs, and gods - must be taken up by us mere mortals, by common people with shared goals. Working together for progressive change, we can bring about the improvement of the world, tiqqun ha-olam - for justice and for peace, we can and we must. 

ALL: Let us make peace in the world.

LEADER: Peace is our responsibility, the responsibility of all peoples in the world.

ALL: Let there be peace for us all.

LEADER: Let us now symbolically open the door of our seder to invite in all people of goodwill and all those in need to work together with us for a better world.

READING: 

"The Guest House" by Rumi

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

LEADER: Let us raise our fourth cup as we dedicate ourselves to the improvement of the world.

[All drink fourth cup.]

*

10. YAHATS - BREAKING THE MATSAH

LEADER: We have drunk the wine and tasted the special foods of the Passover celebration. To remind us of these values as we go back out into the world, at the end of our festival meal, we shall return to have a final taste of matzah - our symbol of suffering and liberation, of renewal in nature and humanity.

I am breaking this matzah into two pieces.

One half I will return to the table.

[Leader breaks matzah, sets down half, and holds up half as the `afikoman.]

The other half I will wrap in a napkin and save until the end of the meal. This piece is called the `APHIQOMAN - Without it, the seder cannot end, so I must make sure that it does not get lost. Of course, I am very forgetful, so I may need help finding it if I do misplace it. In fact, I manage to lose it every year - it ends up seemingly "hidden.” So just figure that I'll be asking all you younger folks to help me find it pretty soon.

 *

11. DINNER!

LEADER: Now it is time for our leisurely Pesah meal.  

B'-te`avon! 

© made by Rebekah  - [#NextYearInPerson]

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12. CONCLUSION OF THE SEDER - FULFILLMENT

LEADER: [Announces the name of the child or children who found the `afikoman.]

Let us continue our seder by eating one last little piece of matzah to leave us with the taste of freedom's struggles. [Everyone eats a last piece of matzah!]

Now, let us conclude our seder...

LEADER:
We have recalled struggles against slavery and injustice.
We have sung of freedom and peace.
We revisited times of persecution and times of fulfillment.
Only half a century ago, Nazis committed the crimes of the Holocaust.
Today, as Human Beings living in the United States in the 21st Century, we take for granted that we are freer than at any other time.
Yet Jewish history shows that life is ever-changing, and we must learn how to survive under all conditions.
When we are persecuted, we must struggle for our own freedom.
The more freedom we attain, the more we must help others attain freedom.
This is the lesson of Passover.
This is why we celebrate the Festival of Freedom.

LEADER: Let us now conclude our celebration of Life, of Freedom, and of Peace by standing to listen to say: NEXT YEAR, PEACE! NEXT YEAR IN THE HOLY LAND!

ALL: NEXT YEAR, PEACE! NEXT YEAR IN THE HOLY LAND!

LEADER: and some extra special 2020 wishes:

Next year, in person. [thank you, Rebekah]

To freedom.

ALL: TO FREEDOM! 

And now, to heck with the Pharoh, a word from the QUEEN:

In dialogue with "Hey, Alma" regarding my Bat Mitzvah!

Hello, darling blog readers!  Below is an interview I did with Emily Burack for the glorious Jewish website Hey Alma.

Enjoy a little peek inside my journey to becoming a Bat Mitzvah at 36, and all the illuminating points along the way.

The article below was published on Hey Alma, January 17, 2020.

*

Alexandra Silber is a Broadway star, writer, Jewish educator — and now a newly bat mitzvah’ed woman.

Let’s back up a second. Silber is Jewish; she was raised outside Detroit, Michigan, the daughter of a Jewish dad and a Catholic mom. Her dad passed away when she was 18 years old.

Silber has a long history with Fiddler on the Roof. In 2007 and 2008, she portrayed Hodel (the middle daughter) on London’s West End, and in 2015 and 2016, she was part of the Broadway revival of Fiddler as Tzeitel, the eldest sister. After the Broadway run of Fiddler ended, she went on to write After Anatevka, a novel that imagines what happened to Hodel after the story of Fiddler ends, and White Hot Grief Parade, a memoir about what happened when her father died of cancer.

“After two huge productions of Fiddler and the publication and book tours around each of my books, I met so many people in Jewish communities that sparked, fed, and fueled my interest in knowing more, and finding a peaceful, curious, voracious, and joyful certainty of God,” Silber explained over e-mail to Alma. Becoming a bat mitzvah “was the best decision I’ve made in my adult life.”

We talked with Silber about her bat mitzvah, why she wore her mom’s wedding dress and her deep relationship with Fiddler on the Roof.

Mazel tov on your bat mitzvah! What made you decide to become a bat mitzvah?
I come from a mixed family — my father’s family being Jewish and both sides of my mother’s family, Catholic. Life in my home was deeply spiritual, religiously informed, but entirely secular. I would say I am definitely a product of a few generations of highly motivated American assimilation — my mother’s cultural background is Irish and Latinx, and her maiden name is Noriega. When and where she grew up in California in the 1950s and ’60s, there was cultural incentives for assimilation that her parents and grandparents gave their lives for.

The same was true for the Silber family. My grandparents came into the prime of their adulthoods during the Holocaust, and though they were far from the European atrocities, their families and friends were not unaffected by the horrors. I will never fully understand their experience, but I can wrap my mind around the cultural pressures to assimilate.

I lost my father to cancer when I was just 18, and the experience charged me with many spiritual life-and-death questions at that tender age. As I’ve grown, those thoughts and concepts have swirled around me, informing so much of my life and work. And of course, professionally, Judaism has been a huge part of my life and immersing in the culture via the theatre (and subsequently through my books) has been a game-changer.

I saw on Instagram that you wore your mom’s wedding dress to your bat mitzvah — why did you decide to do this? What did it mean?
I’m so glad you asked this question. I wanted my mother to feel that she was literally embracing me, standing alongside me and offering a meaningful contribution to the ceremony that might otherwise feel slightly alienating to her culture and faith of origin. My mom Catherine could not be more supportive of all that I do, but I wanted her to feel significantly represented in the ceremony.
My parents were married in 1980 by a generous and beautifully spirited rabbi in Detroit, Rabbi Richard Hertz. The wedding photos of this outdoor Jewish ceremony are integral to my vision of my parents’ origins and peerless love story. It was a simple way for both of my parents to be “present” on the day, almost 40 years later.

What was the process like?
The month after the Broadway run of Fiddler on the Roof ended, Rabbi Larry Hoffman of Hebrew Union College invited me to teach at a retreat for his fourth year rabbinical and cantorial students. It was a three-day experience I will never forget. I used lessons commonly taught in theatrical environments and applied them to the scope of Judaism, and got some of the most memorable feedback and lessons were thrown back at me from the group of 16 or so students (that were largely my own age!).

A few students in particular really stood out to me as people I’d love to remain friends with — two being (now Rabbi) Samantha Frank and (soon to be Rabbi) Rena Singer. They had gone about starting what can only be described as a Reform, feminist, totally inclusive, profoundly informative, and an all-around glorious Instagram account called @modern_ritual. I devoured the content. I identified with it. And before long, I realized that if I was going to engage with this bat mitzvah experience, I wanted to do it with them — with peers I looked up to immensely leading me, in just the way I had led them just a few years earlier.

Rabbi Frank and I made an initial date to meet and discuss the details — my prior knowledge, my goals, and what I truly wanted from the experience, and together we crafted a plan that was personal to me, where I am in my life now as an adult woman. We met once a week (sometimes in person and sometimes over the internet), and not only learned Hebrew and trope (from scratch!) but we discussed all things spiritual, Israel, Torah, history, and culture.

What was the hardest part?
Aside from learning Hebrew (medium-hard — I’m quite adept at languages in general) and trope (almost unbearably hard as a musician and music-reader), the hardest part was the bittersweet moment of saying goodbye to Rabbi Frank after the process was over. She became the only person in my life (other than my partner and my mother) whom I spoke with every day. I miss her!

Totally on a different note from your bat mitzvah, why did you write After Anatevka?
I played Hodel in the ’07-’08 West End production at the Savoy Theatre. Hodel took on a deeper significance for me than any other character I’d ever portrayed, mostly because when I began rehearsing here in London I was coming to terms with the death of my father five years earlier at the age of 18. Hodel’s final scene is not only an assertion of her adult autonomy, but it’s her chance to say goodbye to her father, a chance I was personally lacking in my real life. When Hodel said, “Papa, God alone knows when we shall see each other again,” it was more than a piece of dialogue for me. It felt mythological, primal even.

I suppose I only now see the direct connection between the an 18-year-old girl who boards a train to Siberia, and an 18-year-old girl who boarded a plane to Scotland. By exploring and assuring Hodel’s future, and her capacity to endure, I was in some deeper way doing the same for myself.

Did playing Hodel in Fiddler impact your Jewish identity?
Of course. On several levels. The first being that I was playing Hodel in London and the UK has a much less prominent experience of Jewish culture woven into the mainstream than we do here in the US. That said, in a large cast of 30, I was only one of three (even remotely) Jewish actors, and throughout that experience I learned many things alongside the Judaism novices, as well as feeling charged to be the best ambassador of Jewish culture I could be. I did endless research not only to benefit myself but to be a more dependable guide for my castmates. That naturally trickled into my off-stage life.

Second, and perhaps deepening that experience, studying Jewish culture, history, and the faith itself gave me an aperture into my personal genetic legacy — a connection to my father, grandparents, and beyond — all of whom I could no longer connect with on earth in the present tense. It was a way for me to feel the ancient links that connected me straight back to Hodel herself. A way to feel close to my father.

Melanie Moore, Alexandra Silber and Samantha Massell during the Broadway Opening Nigh,t Performance Curtain Call bows for ‘Fiddler On The Roof’ at the Broadway Theatre on December 20, 2015 in New York City.

By the time I arrived to live permanently in America in 2010, the process was well underway even if it wasn’t in the forefront of my consciousness. And by the time I was cast as Tzeitel in the 2016 Broadway revival, if the deal wasn’t sealed already, it was sealed doubly so by Rabbi Larry Hoffman of Hebrew Union College. He served as the Broadway production’s Jewish consultant, and we forged a very special connection that remains alive to this day.


What was the reaction like to your novel?
Largely positive. So many people shared my curiosity about what happens to this family! Of course, there will always be dissenters and people who wished I’d crafted the date of their beloved characters in a different way, but I had to remain true to history and to the woman I grew to know Hodel to become.

Jews have such a long history in the theater — why do you think that is?
All of the arts have powerful Jewish cultural parallels: ways of uniting a community, telling stories that make people think, feel, laugh, and change, and providing a way to bear the adversities of life.

What’s your favorite Jewish show?
Aside from Fiddler, I’m a huge fan of Paula Vogel’s gorgeous play Indecent — which chronicles the history of another pivotal Jewish/Yiddish play “The God of Vengeance” by Shalom Ashe.

Questions from Book Tour - Part 7

Book tour!

1. In addition to grieving and overcoming pain, the book really seems to explore keeping up appearances in a lot of ways. What did this tragedy instill within you about that and how society so often avoids talking about death, in general?

     Death is the Great Unknown, and most human being love nothing more than snuggling up and getting all cozy with certainty. The trouble is— certainty hardly ever truly exists in our lives.

     The greatest fears all living things hold within them is the loss of someone they love and the loss of their own lives. Avoiding death and survival instinct is built into the tiniest amoebas, and they don’t even have intricate death mythology or structure of beliefs about an afterlife. Humanity has been mythologizing death since we had cognizance, one to make peace with it for our own demise, but also to ease the profound suffering of being left behind in death by anyone we love.


     Around Christmas, my mom and I were going through some of her life treasures in the basement.
    “Oh I like those shoes,” I said salivating slightly.
    “Patience, Al, you can borrow them now but you keep them when I’m dead.”
    “Roger that, Mom.”
    “Cheer up. You’ll get it all when I’m dead! Who am I gonna leave it to— the cat?”

     This level of banter is pretty standard for us.

     But the other day I experienced a very special career highlight, and my wonderful, witty mother was there to bear witness. We have an unspoken tradition where after every major life event of mine (such as an opening night, a book launch, a concert), she takes me aside and we pause a few minutes to revel in what has just transpired. After we did that, I paused as said:
    “Mom. Just so you know, this tradition means everything to me.”
    “Me too,” she replied.
    “And,” I continued after reflecting a moment, “I don’t know about the details of the afterlife and all that, but I’m just letting you know now, that if you do get to come back and haunt or visit or say hi, this ‘after the show’ moment would be when I’d really like to know you’re popping in.”
    “Okay,” she said, then smirking added “Good talk.”

     We laughed. Life and death and real-talk chat is no big deal to the Silber ladies anymore. As you can see, the ability to so blithely operate in that kind of dialogue does not put a damper on the joyous occasion, it made it even more memorable, without being a huge downer.

Ta-DA!!! Real Talk!

     Taking death and grief out and looking at them directly seems unpleasant, unnecessary and downright “grim,” but it removes the stigma from a human experience every single one of us is going to have sooner or later, and avoiding the subject is not going to prevent it, and certainly not the solution for making any kind of peace with it.

     My suggestion is to very simply: think and talk about it. Recognize that you might be avoiding the subject out of discomfort or fear. The more you accept the reality of death and grief, the more you can get on with the business of truly investing in and fully living your life.

the real Rabbi Daniel Syme

2. Why did you make the choice to fictionalize Rabbi Syme [in After Anatevka]?

     What a wonderful question. Ah, beautiful beautiful Rabbi Daniel Syme...

     I went about fictionalizing the real Rabbi Syme (who is chronicled literally in WHGP) into the fictional version that captured his spirit, in Rabbi Syme.

     The real Rabbi Daniel Syme was a crucial advocate to and for not only me, but to and for my father’s human legacy.

    Fictional Rabbi Syme (in After Anatevka) is based very loosely upon the real-life Rabbi Syme (chronicled literally in WHGP)—loosely because my description in the novel is not so much a literal, but more of an evocative recollection and honoring of his influence. Real-life Rabbi Syme and I only spent a collection of minutes together in 2001, but they were crucial minutes. He gave me the gift of delivering the eulogy at my father's funeral service, as well as bearing witness to it when he lead the funeral service, and above all, he gave me an hour of his time months later, reminding me of what was eternal, and chartering a map toward the beauty, strength, and individuality my faith. Irreplaceable gifts one can never forget.

     The fictional version of the character was my way of honoring the man who was my father's advocate, and thus, Perchik's (who is modeled in many ways after my father). He was also my first spiritual teacher of any kind.

    The influence of Rabbi Syme proves another true-to-life maxim: that we never know the depth of the influence we have upon one another. A fleeting moment to one, might bear a lifetime of profundity to another, for better and for worse. So it is in these tiny actions that we must recognize that our influence on earth is vast, has meaning, and should never be taken for granted.

To read more about Rabbi Syme click here:
The Real Rabbi Syme
The Real Rabbi Syme continued




3. What questions do you still have for G-d?

Why so many Fast and the Furious movies, Big Guy?



4. Later, with the chapter "Where Memories," you state that you "have always clutched fiercely onto ordinary moments." As I was reading the book, I had a pad of sticky notes + immediately scrawled "Anton Chekhov," whose plays featured plots with very little actually happening (The Cherry Orchard is a favorite of mine). Many people don't or aren't willing to find the poeticism in the mundane, the little moments that don't seem to many anything on the surface. Is it human nature to only remember the big, life-changing moments?

     It is interesting you mention Anton Chekov and The Cherry Orchard. I don’t state it directly, but the “mysterious man” Perchik meets in the Moscow bar in 1903 (about 2/3 of the way through After Anatevka) is indeed Anton Chekhov. I drop about a dozen or so clues, even going so far as to have Perchik inspire Chekhov with the phrase “All Russia is our orchard…” but I never state it explicitly. It was my little nod to the theatre.

     I don’t think it is human nature to only focus on big life moments— I think many people vividly recall the seemingly minute details of their lives. What I think most people do not practice is the meaning-making around and of these details. Making meaning of our lives is why many people participate in religion, why they read and go to the theatre, why they read horoscopes and attend spiritual gatherings. Not every human being finds meaning-making fruitful— some prefer to live utterly in the present and that is okay if it works for them.

     I happen to be a person who not only enjoys, but needs to make meaning of my and all human life. I do think I have a gift for creating a myth around an experience almost instantaneously, but as a few very wise friends have observed, sometimes my speedy ability to mythologize hijacks my experiencing of the moment itself. And noting that, I endeavor to stay fully aware in the present, and meaning-make later.

with Rabbi Syme

Questions from Book Tour - Part 6

At the JCC of West Bloomfield, MI - where it all began

1. How would you urge the reader to learn to approach life as you do, in relishing the mundane and the ordinary?

By recognizing that absolutely nothing is mundane or ordinary.

But also:
     Pause.
     Breathe.
     Look in people’s eyes.
     Ask thoughtful questions and really listen to the answers.
     Practice gratitude.



2. As you stress in the book, death is something none of us an avoid. Have many people reached out to you with their own stories?

Absolutely. I think that has been the most overwhelming and rewarding part. Why write a book about grief and your own boring, excessively ordinary life if not to connect to others about theirs; and thus discover that nothing is boring, and no one is ordinary at all.

It is an old maxim, but you get what you give in this one glorious life. By leading with authenticity and vulnerability, by exposing your inner-most soft places (and merely exposing, not flooding or forcing your experience down someone’s unwilling throat!)  we allowing others to behold them, at their own capacity and tempo. Calm exposure invites  one to ask the age old human question: “you too?” And that exercise welcomes people to truly connect with one another.

I am so grateful to all [including you, dear interviewer, whose name I do not have the honor of knowing—I am so truly sorry for your loss—] who have been courageous enough to share their stories with me. It has been the greatest reward of this entire process.



3. Why did you begin the book with the list of things you'd tell your 17-year-old self?

The beginning of each of the five “sections,” as well as the Epilogue begin with a return of the adult Alexandra voice, speaking directly to the reader about events from the present day that are in direct relation to the events of my/her father’s death. They are “echoes” if you will that resonate in the present, informed by the past. After those introductory section chapters, we continue with the narrative of 2001.

First, I chose to speak to my 17-year-old self, because that was the last time I was truly innocent to the events chronicled in the book—the age of my personal “BC,” some of the advice is witty and typical stuff we as adults all realize we were idiots about bak then (“buy Frizz ease”), and some is very weighty (“go on all the walks with him and tell him all the things.”)

Second, it was important to me to create a structure that calmed the reader instantly by establishing that the narrator of this book was Alexandra Silber: contemporary adult who “turned out okay” and maybe a little bit more than “fine.” While, in contrast, the protagonist of this tale is an 18-year-old “Al” who has not yet acquired the perspective and wisdom of the narrator, she is just experiencing the events in real time.

The  “things you'd tell my 17-year-old self” was a clear way to establish that there was going to be an ongoing interchange between Al and Alexandra (if you will) throughout this book, and creates for the reader a subconscious understanding that our protagonist is not yet fully processed, while our narrator, is. Those two “characters” just happen to be the same person—17 years apart.






4. Concerning everyone who helped you through this tragedy, are you still in contact with them? What have been their reactions to the book?

All of them. ‘Grey’ is a hugely successful theatrical designer. ‘Kent’ is changing the world working for a State Senator and just had a baby. Lilly is still my best friend and plays oboe all over the world. I saw her last month at the Metropolitan opera playing Strauss at American Ballet Theater.

They are, all, triumphs of human beings.

Lilly!

Audible Presents: After Anatevka

Hear this:

Dear hardworking dreamers everywhere, keep going.

Create one word, sentence, paragraph at a time.

Anything is possible.

"After Anatevka, an Audible Production at the Minetta Lane Theatre, will celebrate Alexandra Silber's novel about the characters in the musical Fiddler on the Roof.

Audible Inc., the world's largest producer and provider of downloadable audiobooks and other spoken-word entertainment is pleased to announce its production of After Anatevka, a literary and musical evening celebrating Alexandra Silber's sweeping historic novel and its upcoming release on Audible. Picking up where beloved musical Fiddler on the Roof left off (based on the original stories by Sholem Aleichem), After Anatevka centers on Tevye's daughter Hodel and the adversities she faces in her extraordinary attempt to reunite with her politically-imprisoned fiancé at a Siberian work camp. A love story set against a backdrop of some of the greatest violence in European history, After Anatevaka is a stunning conclusion to a tale that has gripped audiences around the globe for decades.


The actress turned novelist Alexandra Silber has
spent a lot of time living in Anatevka, the fictional Russian village in “Fiddler on the Roof.” Maybe not as long as Tevye and Golde’s daughters, but she has played a couple of them — Hodel, in a British production, and later Tzeitel, in the 2015 Broadway revival."

Or, to quote the New York Times:

 "On Monday, Aug. 13, at Minetta Lane Theater in Greenwich Village, a live event will add another couple of layers to this creative mille-feuille. The audiobook company Audible, anticipating its own release of “After Anatevka,” will host an evening combining excerpts from the novel, read by Ms. Silber, with songs written for “Fiddler” (including “Dear Sweet Sewing Machine,” which was cut from the show) and new numbers inspired by “After Anatevka.” 

Performers are slated to include Samantha Massell, Matthew Scott and Kerstin Anderson; the “Fiddler” lyricist Sheldon Harnick is expected to be on hand, too. Audible will, of course, be recording the program for its audiobook."

Dearest friends. Dearest readers who have been with me since the first blog post was published in 2007.It is not at all hyperbole to declare that Monday was among the top moments of my entire life. Once upon a time I was a tiny baby actress in love with a character, who discovered she had a need to express herself in words. One word, one collection of words, one sentence, one paragraph at a time... words that became a story, that became a collection of paper pages that have now touched more than I could ever dream to have reached. To have my friends and colleagues inspired by this new chapter, for these characters to come to life, and be given a new voice in which to sing and soar; to lend my own voice to it as well?

My Bennyyyyyy.

This project is everything I do in one place, and it was captured and shall be preserved for eternity by and on Audible. This was a dream project born of my humble little mind so many years ago, an effort of heart, soul, creativity and sheer will. I say that to inspire, not to gloat: If I can do it, so can you. If you have a dream, keep going. One sentence at a time.

I am so grateful to Pegasus Books, to Audible, to my agent Joelle Delbourgo, to my editor Iris Blasi, to Carolyn Cantor for directing the evening, and to every composer, lyricist, the gloriously gifted friends who raised their voice in song.

But especially my beloved Ben Moss—that kid fresh out of Harvard I met all those years ago now, who has grown up to be my favorite pal to grab a margarita with (in any town), my greatest collaborator and favorite travel companion. There's no one else I'd rather be trapped at LaGuardia with, Benny.

This was a night of nights which I shall never forget (and that you can all hear on the audiobook from Audible, Oct 5!)

Keep making things.

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Magical production photographs by Michael Kushner.

Ben Moss

Ellie Fishman and Kerstin Anderson sing "The Stillness of the Office"

Samantha Massell reprises her "Far From the Home I Love"

the glorious Ellie Fishman (with Ben Moss on piano)

from L to R: Ben Moss, Matthew Scott, myself, Samantha Massell, Kerstin Anderson, Ellie Fishman

with beloved "Dear Friend" Sheldon Harnick

Dear Friends