Counting the Omer and Social Change

by: Dasee Berkowitz

Fri Apr 25, 2008 at 12:29:54 PM EDT

Visionary Leadership: A Passover Reflection

by: Shuli Passow

Thu Apr 24, 2008 at 18:56:22 PM EDT

In preparation for Passover this year, I spent some time going back to the sources, reflecting on the story of the Exodus, and on the details and nuances of the biblical text. It's a rich and layered tale: a dramatic episode in its own right, the paradigm of redemption for social movements throughout history, the foundational narrative for the Jewish people. We tell it and retell it every year, instructed as we are to locate ourselves in our collective past while sharing the story with the our children, so that it lives on into the the next generation. On seder night, we experience the interplay between past, present and future.

A hint of these temporal relationships, and a suggestion that time can be fluid and flexible time, appears in Exodus, Chapter 12. God instructs the Israelites to prepare for a hasty departure, to feast on roast lamb, and to mark their doorposts with the blood of the pesach offering. Narrative melds with law as the ritual commemoration of the exodus becomes part of the nation's future calendar.

In relaying God's instructions to the elders of Israel, Moshe adds the following directive:

And when you enter the land that God will give you, as God has promised, you shall observe this rite. And when your children ask you "what do you mean by this rite?" you will say, "this is the Passover offering for God, on account that God passed over the houses of the Israelites in Egypt, when God smote the Egyptians—but our homes God saved…" 12:25-27

This vivid image, of children who are not yet born, asking their parents of the Passover offering's origin, is one of the biblical bases for the commandment to retell the story of Passover each year, in every generation.

What I find curious about Moshe's addition is its timing, its inclusion as part of the instruction to prepare for the Exodus itself. In these hours immediately prior to the departure from Egypt, which are surely filled with details and logistics to be attended to, Moshe takes a pause, shifts the people's focus from the present moment towards the future.

Even more readings...

by: POLJ1

Wed Apr 23, 2008 at 16:10:01 PM EDT

The Recent Haggadah Glut Does Not Demonstrate Jewish Self-Hatred

by: Hannah Farber

Wed Apr 23, 2008 at 15:07:58 PM EDT

On Slate this week, they're recycling a 2007 piece by Mark Oppenheimer protesting the 21st century's profusion of Haggadot.

I recognize that to some degree, the sentiment behind this argument is cousin to Jill's surprise at discovering how cluttered the progressive Seder plate has become.

But I couldn't disagree more with the argument itself, which hinges on the theory that Jews keep reinventing Passover because they're uncomfortable with Judaism.

The diversity of Haggadot is a symptom of the unease that many Jews feel about Judaism. For some, the unease is political: Passover is a holiday about liberation, so the Haggadah has special meaning to those who feel that Judaism today is insufficiently attentive to left-wing political causes. For others, the unease is just a species of what all secular Americans feel around religious tradition, and Jews like this are always looking for a Haggadah that is "contemporary" or "relevant" enough to produce religious sentiment with a minimum of embarrassment.

 I actually can't think of a better sign of spiritual health than that so many people (ranging from the glitziest nouveau-Kabbalists to the crunchiest secular activists) are rewriting and reinventing and relearning Jewish ritual texts. Think of all the steps that have to go into this:

1. Someone has to CARE about Passover.
2. Someone has to care about what the traditional Jewish texts say about Passover.
3. Someone has to construct a thesis of some kind of how these texts ought to be modified to better suit present circumstances.
4. Someone has to go back to the old texts, splice them in with some new sources, and compile and edit a new Haggadah.
5. Someone has to pay for the publishing of these new Haggadot.

Inevitably, this leads to where we are today, step 6:

Pesach and politics: too much already?

by: Rabbi Jill Jacobs

Tue Apr 22, 2008 at 22:40:41 PM EDT

The Pesach table has gotten very crowded.  This year, if I had paid attention to all of the dozens of e-mails crossing my screen, mine would have included: 

1) an orange (women/glbt), olive (peace in middle east), a broken ring (marriage equality), and even a flower on the seder plate (latter is, inexplicably, a vegan substitute for the beitzah/roasted egg).

2) at least four matzot (when I was growing up, the fourth was for Soviet Jews; now it's for Darfuri refugees, Jews living in oppressive countries, and/or contemporary slaves.)

3) an empty chair for the captured Israeli soldiers, victims of terror, and/or Darfuris (again). (Given the size of my apartment, the people who showed up were lucky to have chairs, let alone the people who didn't come)

4) an unlit candle for Tibet.

5) a cup of water for Miriam, and a fifth cup of wine for the state of Israel, the captured soldiers (again), or Jesus (uh. . . whoops--that would be the suggestion of the messianic website).

6) a fifth child, who represents either Holocaust victims or the unaffiliated (ok--this one wouldn't actually take up any of the precious space in my 2-inch wide Manhattan apartment. . . ).

7)  Special Haggadah inserts for (this year alone) global poverty, marriage equality, Darfur (third symbol's a charm), Israel/Palestine (from multiple perspectives), righteous gentiles, sweatshops, and about fifteen that I've forgotten.

I'll admit that my seder included some (though certainly not all) of these symbols, and I'll acknowledge that each of these symbols can add real meaning to the holiday.  But in the cacophony of requests for one more cup of wine, one more child, one more empty chair, and one more item on the seder plate, I have just one fifth question:  Is it too much already?

Last week's Forward notes that Pesach has become "a rallying cry for progressives":

Though many Jews associate Passover with home and family, it has in recent times become the most political holiday in the Jewish calendar. Each year, Jewish activists and organizations publish new Haggadahs and offer new rituals to introduce contemporary political issues into the celebration of Passover. Interracial and interfaith Seders have become staples of Jewish outreach. Now, Jewish activists are seeing a new upsurge in attempts to connect Passover’s themes to hot-button social issues.

I'm the last person to say that we shouldn't connect Jewish holidays to contemporary issues.

To see and be seen: Pesach, American Jews, and social justice

by: Rabbi Jill Jacobs

Fri Apr 18, 2008 at 17:59:15 PM EDT

Just a few hours before Shabbat--a d'var torah that I wrote originally for this month's Mechon Hadar newsletter:

As we approach the fortieth anniversary of the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. (April 4), I cannot help but think about the ways in which Jews were involved in justice work then, and the ways that many of us are involved now.

American Jews love to boast about our community's involvement in the civil rights struggle.  And we are right to be proud:  in disproportionate numbers, Jews went south, often risking their lives (with at least two losing their lives), to register voters and participate in marches.

Jews went south for many reasons. Some saw in Jewish tradition and history a mandate for justice work; These Jews found inspiration in the prophetic calls for justice, the biblical claim that all humanity shares a common ancestor, or the knowledge that earlier generations of Jews had played pivotal roles in the creation of an American labor movement and in other justice struggles throughout the world.

Others were motivated by the still-recent memories of oppression. In his famous speech at the 1963 March on Washington, Rabbi Joachim Prinz, then the president of American Jewish Congress famously told the assembled crowd:

When I was the rabbi of the Jewish community in Berlin under the Hitler regime, I learned many things. The most important thing that I learned under those tragic circumstances was that bigotry and hatred are not the most urgent problem. The most urgent, the most disgraceful, the most shameful and the most tragic problem is silence. . . America must not become a nation of onlookers. America must not remain silent.

We hear frightened men, confused men, say This is not a Jewish problem. This is not for outsiders. . . I see these gentlemen, Jews, under their southern manners, trapped. If the Klan marches, and they are gathering, if violence breaks, they know they will get it. . . My sympathy goes to them, even though their speeches are absurd.

Throughout the 1970s, 80s, and 90s, many individual Jews and some Jewish organizations remained deeply involved in justice struggles, often out of the same motivations that compelled Jews to go south in the 1960s. But the Jewish community as a whole slowly drifted away

More Progressive Passover Resources!

by: Joshua Schwartz

Thu Apr 17, 2008 at 17:28:46 PM EDT

Passover is a truly unique holiday.  Unlike the usually cold and rainy Sukkot, the Jewish spring time holiday is actually occurring in a beautiful spring!  Also, of course, there's the whole no bread thing.

For me, the uniqueness of the hoiday truly plays out in the command to remember the Exodus from Egypt as if we were the ones who had left.

Now, what does it mean to remember?  One type of remembering is passive.  You hear a song and remember the love you once had in your halcyon days of youth.  I believe that the type of memory stressed by the Pesach is of a more active variety.  We hold the seder in our home, and we do not merely allow the story of our liberation wash over us and cause us to "remember" the Exodus.  No!  We are instructed to drash out the tale of our oppression and freedom.  We must raise the matzah and maror and explain their meaning.

The remembering of Passover is a consciousness we are told to take up as our own.  An intimacy with and inherent compassion for the reality of oppression and the deep human thirst for justice and freedom is the gift God has given us through this chag.

In my work here at JFSJ, my main task has been to develop educational materials so that Jewish communities can engage with the issue of immigration.  To my mind, ignoring this issue runs directly counter to the type of remembering we are supposed to be taking up on Passover.  Our experience of slavery is one of the first struggles of the displaced in human history!  It took our crying to God to have God remember the promise made to us in times past.  There are more voices crying out all around us, and ignoring them negates the holy task this holiday has given us.

So: here are a list of progressive Passover resources so that you and your family may actively and consciously call to mind this present situation crying out for liberation from oppression:

Pesach roundup

by: Rabbi Jill Jacobs

Thu Apr 17, 2008 at 16:48:29 PM EDT

The web runneth over with Pesach resources, social justice-y and otherwise. (I was going to gripe that everything starts to sound the same after a while, but then I remembered that Jewish ritual is supposed to be repetitive. . . )

First, my top three ways to spice up the Seder in a justice-y way (note:  this is not an elitist list --I'm open to additions)

--Ask each guest to bring one object that, to him or her, represents liberation.  Create a separate seder plate of these objects and, during the maggid (storytelling) portion of the seder, ask each guest to explain what s/he brought and why.

--Have each guest tell his or her own family's immigration story and/or bring a photo or other object that represents this story.

--Act out the story of Pesach as a contemporary justice drama.  Assign guests to take parts (Moses, Miriam, Pharoah, God, etc.) and give them a setting (modern workplace, immigration hearing, etc.) and see what happens.  You can also pull a few newspaper articles that talk about contemporary oppression, and have guests role play the situation in the article as Moses/Miriam/etc. would have. (for example:  check out this example of modern-day servitude)  (this one gets better with costumes--always a staple of my own sedarim)

And, of course, there are a gazillion readings, divrei torah, activity ideas, haggadot, etc. out there.  Here are just a few:

The Exodus as the Foundational Paradigm for Social Justice

by: benhayehudi

Mon Apr 14, 2008 at 16:38:30 PM EDT

Passover, Earth Day, & Cimate Crisis

by: (Rabbi) Arthur Waskow

Tue Apr 08, 2008 at 09:40:58 AM EDT

Dear Chevra,
 
We have just opened our eyes to the glimmer of the new moon, birthing the moon th when -- in two weeks, at the full moon --  we not only remember and reenact the ancient liberation from the top-down, unaccountable power of Pharaoh, but take responsibility to free ourselves as well. All of us, all earth and all humanity.
 
As the Passover Haggadah says, "In every generation, every human being must go forth to freedom."
 
This year, Passover begins the night of April 19 and includes Earth Day on April 22. And today, the greatest danger of destructive plagues comes from the global climate crisis and the top-down, unaccountable power-structures that are pushing us ever closer to the edge of climate disaster.
 
So this year, it makes sense to focus on the elements of Passover that call us to free and heal the earth and our society from that danger.
 
The notes below can be used in your Passover Seder, in congregational newsletter columns, and as teaching points for sermons.
 
For many other materials on applying religious tradition and thought to the climate crisis, see our Website in the Green Menorah section at http://www.shalomctr.org/taxonomy_menu/1/1
 
Please let us know how you are using these materials by writing GreenMenorah@shalomctr.org
 
Searching for Chameitz - What is Chameitz in Our Lives Today?
 
Before Passover begins, we traditionally rid our houses of chameitz in any form.  Chameitz, literally, is anything made out of wheat, spelt, barley, rye and oats, that has been mixed with water and allowed to ferment for more than eighteen minutes.  It is food that has swelled up.  Chasidic teachers, though, saw chameitz metaphorically, as the swelling up of excess in our own lives.
 
What is metaphorical chameitz in our own day?  What is the excess in our lives that we need to rid ourselves of, or that we can at least tone down, to keep it in proper proportion and perspective?
 
Chameitz, first of all, can be carbon dioxide.  It is the one single element most responsible for the global climate crisis. It is the element that we must immediately reduce our spewing of into the atmosphere.
 
Chameitz can be seen as overconsumption.  Is one lesson of Passover this year that we should simplify our lives?

More specifically, is coal-fired electricity a kind of eco-chameitz?  Is our ddiction to the over-use of oil, coal and gasoline a eco-chameitz?
 
Seen this way, what then do we need to do in order to sweep eco-chameitz from our lives?
 
Some answers:
 
Switching our households and institutions to wind power and other renewable ources of energy; supporting legislation that supports this switch, as ell; getting an energy audit; changing all lightbulbs to CFLs.
 
Driving less; purchasing fuel-efficient and hybrid cars; supporting public ransportation; shopping on-line.
 
Making green renovations and new buildings.  Supporting legislation
mandating such measures.
 
Making these changes is, of course, not easy.  Chameitz looks better and it astes better.  Being more puffed-up in size, it tends to attract people and et more attention.  And it's not even completely bad, as it's permissible to enjoy chameitz 51 other weeks of the year.  What's not alright is to be a slave to it.  More about that later.
 
Shabbat HaGadol - The Great Sabbath
 
The Shabbat just prior to Passover is called Shabbat HaGadol.  This year it calls directly before Passover begins, since the first seder is on Saturday night of April 19, 2008, immediately after Shabbat HaGadol ends.
 
So while we encourage leaders to keep their sermons mercifully short on Shabbat HaGadol, we do endorse using the tradition of "addressing some topical comments" to focus this year on the global climate crisis.
 
Shabbat HaGadol gets its name from the haftarah, the prophetic portion that is traditionally read on this day.  The context of the haftarah is dramatic: its 25 lines represent the final words of the final prophet, Malachi.
 
He writes, speaking on behalf of YHWH:
 
Behold!  I will send you Elijah the Prophet before the coming of that great and awesome day of YHWH, so that he will turn the hearts of the parents to the children and the hearts of the children to the parents, lest I come and strike the Earth with utter destruction.  (Malachi 3:23-24)
 
This call from 2500 years ago that the generations must work together to heal the earth from the danger of utter destruction comes alive with new force in our generation.  When we invoke Elijah the Prophet on Shabbat HaGadol and during our Passover seders, we must make sure that we are giving voice to our own commitment to take actions in our own day to  move this world closer to redemption.
 
This leads to yet another meaning of "HaGadol," as pointed out in the ommentary to this haftarah in the Etz Hayim chumash: "Shabbat ha-Gadol calls attention to an ultimate or "great" accountability that all creatures bear for the resources of the earth...(p. 1296)."
 
 
 
Passover Seder
 
Early in the Seder, we dip green vegetables -- parsley, mint -- into salt water --  the oceans where all life was nourished. We can pause to celebrate the Source of Life that is now endangered, and to pledge our help to heal the green and the blue that enrich our planet, lest the salt water become tears as the green plants wither.
 
Four Questions for Today:
 
We can sing the first line, and then continue as a wordless melody:  Mah nishtanah halailah hazeh mikol haleilot?
[Literally: Why is this night different from all other nights?]
 
Why is this blight different from all other blights?
 
For other blights we can be concerned only for ourselves, why for this blight must we be concerned for others?
 
Because the climate crisis affects everyone on Planet Earth, since the atmosphere does not respect the political boundaries that nations erect between themselves.
 
For other blights, we might not really know what's happening, why for this blight are we so sure?
 
Because there is a scientific consensus that human action is leading to global climate temperatures increasing - can we muster up the will to do something about it?
 
For other blights, the problem might seem too hard or too distant for us to do anything about it; why for this blight is it possible for us to make a difference?
 
Because each one of us contributes daily to the crisis - each one of us uses energy, each one of us causes carbon dioxide to be released into the air. And therefore each one of us can daily make a positive change to address the crisis.
 
For other blights, it can seem impossible to get the attention of politicians.  How can we do so for this blight?
 
Because already, key members of Congress are taking bold leadership to address the global climate crisis.  And we need to actively support their efforts.  Though the federal government is not moving quickly enough, there's an inspiring move by local and state leaders to put necessary changes into place even while the national government plods along.  We must call for and support these initiatives as well.
 
 
Avadim Haiyinu - Once We Were Slaves: Passover as a Call for Environmental Justice:
 
Later in our seder we read, "In every generation, we are obliged to regard ourselves as though we ourselves had actually gone out from Egypt."  We are to remember the experience of being slaves, of being disenfranchised, of being the ones with the least power, with the least resources, with the least people looking out for our welfare and our well-being.  We are to remember the experience of being valued only for what we can do, what we can do for others, rather than for our inherent value as human beings.
 
Environmental degradation in the United States most severely harms those people who are already the ones with the least power.  All one needs to do is think of the aftermath to Hurricane Katrina.  Or look at asthma rates in lower-income neighborhoods, or exposure rates to toxic waste.  Similarly, the global climate crisis most severely harms people in those countries that also have the least.
 
While we in the United States will be forced to make gradual changes to adapt to a changing climate, people in other countries will face refugee crises and fierce wars over shifting agricultural and water distribution patterns.
 
And so, on this Passover, we remember avadim haiyinu, that we were slaves.
 
Avadim haiyinu, haiyinu, atah beney chorin, beney chorin
Avadim haiyinu atah atah beney chorin.
Translation: "Once we were slaves but now we are free"
 
We remember that we were slaves, doing so in order to remember that our obligation is to help set everyone free.  And we don't just sing the words. We commit ourselves to making sure that the moral voice continues to be spoken, ensuring that concern for environmental justice continues to be a part of any public policy.
 
For example, the Lieberman-Warner "America's Climate Security Act" already includes legislation about environmental justice.  As this bill is debated and eventually passed, we commit ourselves to making sure that these sections not only survive deliberations, but also that they are strengthened.
 
Environmental Plagues Then and Now:
 
In the Exodus story, nearly all but the final two plagues were environmental in nature.  We can see this clearly from the teaching of Rabbi Yehuda Halevi, a 12th century Spanish physician and poet, who explained that the first eight plagues could be divided in a way that made their environmental basis clear:  two came from water (blood, frogs from Nile); two came from the earth (lice and wild animals); two were infections carried by the air (plague and boils); and two were things carried by the air that did physical damage (hailstorms and locusts). 

In our own day, we face a daunting array of environmental plagues as well.
 
[Everyone fills up the next glass with wine or grape juice.  Leader lifts up kiddush cup and invites everyone else to do likewise. As each environmental plague is said out loud, a drop of wine/grape juice is poured out, or drops are removed by dipping finger into cup]
 
Leader asks: What are the environmental plagues that are befalling us in our own day?
 
Answers might include:
undrinkable water in rivers
frogs dying
Great Lakes drying
glaciers melting
polar bears drowning
seacoasts rising
droughts increasing
extreme weather conditions increasing
temperatures rising
unhealthy air quality
changing bird migration
melting of permafrost
spread of infectious diseases
famine
animal and plant extinction
 
 
Rabban Gamliel and the Three Elements of Any Passover Seder:
 
Rabban Gamliel used to say:  Whoever does not explain the following three things at the Passover festival has not fulfilled their duty, namely:  the
Passover sacrifice, Matzah and Maror.
 
1.  Passover Sacrifice:
 
Point to the shank bone, beet,  or Paschal yam, pass it around:
 
This shank bone/Paschal yam that we put on our seder plate represents idolatry.  The ancient Egyptians worshiped the lamb. And so to sacrifice a
lamb right under the Egyptians' noses was an act of defiance, one of the first ways that the ancient Israelites began to throw off the shackles of
slavery.  The shank bone/Paschal yam in our own day represents saying and doing what is right, in defiance of what the Pharaoh's in our own day tell
us to say and do.
 
Who are the Pharaohs in our own day?  Who tells us what to do, not because it's right but because they tell us to? (Invite responses from people
gathered there).
 
How about those in our own government who for so long denied that there even was a global climate crisis, even while they provided subsidies to the oil
industry in Texas and Saudi Arabia?  Or the US delegation at the United Nations Climate Talks in Bali, which this past December obstructed progress
toward world action to address the global climate crisis?
 
Or the top officials of the Environmental Protection Agency, which this past December denied California and 18 other states the ability to set greenhouse
gas emission standards stricter than federal levels?
 
How about Senators and Representatives who serve those who pay the most money, at the expense of those who pay the most dearly for short-sighted and
self-serving policies?
 
How about the leaders of the oil and automobile industries, who enrich themselves at the expense of planet Earth?  Who devise ever-more ingenious
ways to entice us to waste more resources, to deplete more energy reserves, and to burn more carbon into the air, while their own pockets deepen and the
global climage worsens?
 
The hearts of pharaohs too often, as in the Exodus story, become hardened. So that an overwhelming scientific consensus about rising climate
temperatures can be ignored.  So that a unanimous recommendation by EPA legal and policy advisers can be ignored, as in the case of the denial of
California's request to enact stricter carbon emission standards.
 
But we can't just look outside of ourselves, blaming others.  Who buys gas guzzling cars?  Who allows politicians to get away with serving the
interests of Big Business in the present at the expense of our shared future?  Who allows Congress to subsidize the coal industry while allowing
alternative sources of renewable energy to be underfunded?
 
Earlier in this Maggid section of our seder, we read another reason, other than slavery, for our need for redemption: "Mit'chila ovdei avodah zara,"
"In the beginning, our ancestors were worshipers of idols." Not only the Egyptians worshiped idols.  We did, too!
 
At Passover, we mark the need for liberation not just from external Pharaohs, but from internal ones as well.  Passover is a time to ask not
just four questions, but hard questions:  In what ways are we addicted to oil? To over-consumption?  To having the newest and the latest and the most
advanced?  To comfort and convenience that takes a toll and levies a cost that doesn't get tallied up until some later year, off in some distant murky
future?  To a lifestyle made possible by the hands of and/or adversely affecting people half a world away, out of sight and too often out of mind?
 
2.  Matzah
 
[Distribute pieces of matzah to everyone present; leader holds up piece]
 
We began the Maggid section of the seder by holding up a piece of matzah and saying, "This is the bread of affliction."  It represents where our spirits
are flat.  It represents what happens when we are beaten down, pressed down, and see ourselves as powerless.
 
But just as matzah literally has two physical sides, so too does it have two sides spiritually. From one perspective it is the bread of affliction, but,
when turned over, when seen from the other side, it is also the bread of liberation, of freedom, of power to change our worlds for the better.
 
How do we make this transformation, from being pressed down to rising up?
 
To answer this, we must ask: what is the significance of matzah?
 
Traditionally, we are forbidden to eat or possess chameitz in any form during Passover. Chameitz literally is food with leavening, fermentation, souring, food that swells up.  Chasidic teachers, though, saw chameitz metaphorically, as the swelling up of excess in our own lives.
 
What is metaphorical chameitz in our own day?  What is the excess in our lives that we can rid ourselves of, or that we can at least tone down, keep in proper proportion and perspective?  [can get responses from gathering]
 
Chameitz, first of all, can be carbon dioxide.  It is the one single element most responsible for the global climate crisis.  It is the element that we must immediately reduce our spewing of into the atmosphere.
 
Chameitz can be seen as overconsumption.  Is one lesson of Passover this year that we should simplify our lives?
 
More specifically, is coal-fired electricity a kind of eco-chameitz?  Is our addiction to the over-use of oil, coal and gasoline a eco-chameitz?
 
Seen this way, what then do we need to do in order to sweep eco-chameitz from our lives? [can get responses from the gathering]
 
Some answers: switching our households and institutions to wind power and other renewable sources of energy; supporting legislation that supports this switch, as well; getting an energy audit; changing all lightbulbs to CFLs.
 
Driving less; purchasing fuel-efficient and hybrid cars; supporting public transportation; shopping on-line.
 
Making green renovations and new buildings.  Supporting legislation mandating such measures.
 
But before we can transform our matzah from the bread of affliction into the bread of liberation, we must face squarely the challenge that we face:
 
3. Maror
 
Maror means bitter herbs.  It represents the pain of our slavery in Egypt. It represents the harm of our actions today.
 
Throughout the past eight years, here is the legacy that has set back the cause of global climate health:
 
As someone says each action aloud, everyone else can sing the refrain, "Let my people go."
 
1. Denied California the Clean Air Act waiver, thus blocking 18 other states from enacting the stricter greenhouse gas emissions standards as well. Sing: "Let my people go."
 
2. Interfered with climate change science, revising NASA and other agency documents to remove language regarding climate change, and engaged in a systematic effort to mislead policy makers and the public about the dangers of global warming.
Sing: "Let my people go."
 
3. Advocated for more nuclear power plants.
Sing: "Let my people go."
 
4. Opened public land in the Rocky Mountains and Alaska to oil and gas drilling.
Sing: "Let my people go."
 
5. Declared carbon dioxide not to be a pollutant.
Sing: "Let my people go."
 
6. Weakened regulations governing air pollution.
Sing: "Let my people go."
 
7. Rejected the Kyoto Protocol, withdrawing the United States from the global warming treaty.
Sing: "Let my people go."
 
Matzah as a Call to Action:
 
Though mentioned and discussed in response to Rabban Gamliel's assertion that matzah is among three things that must be mentioned in order for the Passover seder to be complete, we don't actually get to eat matzah until after the Maggid section.
 
So as we finally approach being able to eat a piece of matzah, let's take a moment to examine a key question:  How does the bread of affliction transform into the bread of freedom?
 
Chameitz can only be made from ingredients that can also be matzah.  The only difference between matzah and chameitz is what we do with those ingredients.  Making chameitz is easy; all you have to do is mix the ingredients together and then do...nothing!  The source of the substance forbidden during Passover is simply waiting and not doing anything. Inaction.
 
Making matzvah, on the other hand, is difficult.  It takes great determination, swift action, and constantly working toward the goal.  When this great effort is made, when we don't let obstacles stand in our way, when we take each step that needs to be taken, with our eyes always on the prize, then the bread of affliction transforms into the bread of liberation.
 
And One for After the Meal - The Prophetic Promise of Elijah:
 
On the Shabbat just before Passover, we read the words of the prophet Malachi, who describes God's promise to send Elijah the Prophet to turn the hearts of parents to children and the hearts of children to parents - "lest the earth be utterly destroyed." This call from  2500 years ago that the generations must work together to heal the earth from the danger of utter destruction comes alive with new force in our generation.
 
When we sing to welcome Elijah, we are giving voice to our own commitment to take actions in our own day to move this world closer to redemption - in our own lives, in our synagogues, offices, and institutions, and by working for changes in public policy.
 
This is what we mean when we sing of Elijah the Prophet coming to us: Elijah is not a person who comes and changes our world, but is rather the name we give to the change that we ourselves bring about through our determined and inspired action.
 
Sing:
 
Eliyahu hanavi, Eliyahu hatishbi
Eliyahu, Eliyahu, Eliyahu hagiladi
Bimherah veyameynu yavo eleynu
Im mashiach ben David, im mashiach ben David
Elijah the Prophet come speedily to us hailing messianic days.
 
Second Seder - Counting Toward Sinai:
 
During the seder on the second night of Passover, we begin counting the 49 days that link freedom from slavery to freedom to enter into a relationship of responsibility and purpose.  Our tradition recognizes that big changes don't happen overnight, but rather take careful planning and preparation.
 
Pulling our world back from the brink of the global climate crisis will require many small and large steps.  No single step alone will solve the problem.  But we can ensure, with each step, that we are at least moving in the right direction.
 
Just as our tradition gives us a 49 day period to spiritually prepare ourselves to stand at Sinai, the second seder is a good time to begin making a plan for what steps each individual, family and community will take toward addressing the crisis we face.
 
Third Day of Passover is Also Earth Day!
 
This year, Passover converges with Earth Day.  And it does so at a time when the global climate crisis can no longer be ignored, calling for us to take bold action.
 
Let's make our voices heard at congressional offices, visiting our Senators and Representatives to say that legislation such as the Lieberman-Warner "America's Climate Security Act" matters greatly to us, and that we insist that it be strengthened and that it eventually actually become the law of the land.
 
And let's do so in a way that is not only a protest, but also a celebration, a re-affirmation, of our power to free ourselves from limitations both external and internal. At Passover, we invoke Elijah the Prophet, as the harbinger of a world redeemed through the actions that we take. 

Seventh Day of Passover - Crossing the Sea:
 
Traditionally, the seventh day of Passover is associated with the Israelites crossing through the Sea of Reeds to escape the pursuing Egyptian army.
 
In a midrash from the     Babylonia Talmud (Sotah 36), Rabbi Yehuda described how "Each tribe said: "I am not going into the water first." During the endless debates, Nachshon from the tribe of Judah jumped into the sea.  He was on the point of drowning when God suddenly divided the waters. 
In other words, the miracle of the splitting of the sea wasn't simply a divine intervention. And it wasn't brought about by one strong central leader.  Rather, one single person, a member of the crowd, took action that was so bold and so inspired and so filled with faith that the miracle then was activated.
 
What a powerful counter-balance to all the words associated with Passover! Time to stop talking; time to do!
 
Prepared by Rabbi Jeff Sultar
Director, Green Menorah Program of The Shalom Center
greenmenorah@shalomctr.org
6711 Lincoln Drive
Philadelphia, PA 19119
(215) 438-2983