Haggadot Contributors

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¿Quién, quién, quién como Jehová?  que con su poder el mar abrió Oirán las naciones lo que El hizo,  Oiran donde quiera sus prodigios Su pueblo le cantara, con panderos danzarán  Y dirán quién, quién como Jehová. Avadim hayinu, hayinu Atah b’nai chorin, b’nai chorin Avadim hayinu, atah, atah b’nai chorin

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Air wash your hands! 

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Who can say we’ve actually left? “Wherever you live, it is probably Egypt,” Michael Walzer wrote. Do you live in a place where some people work two and three jobs to feed their children, and others don’t even have a single, poorly paid job? Do you live in a community in which the rich are fabulously rich, and the poor humiliated and desperate? Do you live among people who worship the golden calves of obsessive acquisitiveness, among people whose children are...

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The Haggadah saves the most demanding call for the final moments of the seder. “Next year in Jerusalem,” we declare, sometimes nervously, sometimes self-consciously, often ambivalently. At the very least, we can understand the call “Next Year in Jerusalem” as a repudiation of the wicked son: Jews, no matter our politics, have a special responsibility to tie ourselves to Israel’s fate, and to work for the vision of Israel in which we believe. But “Next Year in Jerusalem” also has a...

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We interrupt this celebration of liberation to bring you a word from the Jewish id. “Pour out Thy Wrath,” we demand of God. But wait. We moderns have been told that we are opening the door for Elijah as a way of signaling our readiness to work for a better time, a messianic age free of strife and unfairness. Aren’t we opening the door to the poor, and to the people of all nations, inviting them to come eat with us...

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The wicked son is not wicked in any of the usual ways. He is not violent or sexually immoral; he does not keep slaves or steal. His wickedness is that he is indifferent to the fate of the Jewish people. “What is this to you?” he asks. “To you,” not “To me.” What he is saying, in effect, is “The fate of my people is not my concern.” Here is a vexing demand sometimes made of young Jews by their elders...

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¿Qué hace diferente a esta noche de todas las [demás] noches? ¿Ma nishtaná haláila hazé micól haleilót? 1) En todas las noches no precisamos sumergir ni siquiera una vez, ¡y en esta noche lo hacemos dos veces? ...shebejól haleilót éin ánu matbilín afílu paám eját, haláila hazé shtéi peamím? 2) En todas las noches comemos jametz o matzá, ¡en esta noche solamente matzá? ...shebejól haleilót ánu ojlín jamétz umatzá, haláila hazé kuló matzá? 3) En todas las noches comemos cualquier clase...

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Go down Moses way down in Egypt land Tell all Pharaohs to let My people go When Israel was in Egypt land Let My people go Oppressed so hard they could not stand Let My people go So the God seyeth, Go down, Moses way down in Egypt land Tell all Pharaohs to let My people go So Moses went to Egypt land Let My people go He made all Pharaohs understand Let My people go Yes The Lord said, Go...

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Welcome to the Latino-Jewish Student Coalition’s Fourth Annual Freedom Seder. In the spirit of Passover, let’s start with a few questions:  what is a “seder,” let alone a “freedom seder” and why Latinos and Jews? A seder literally translates to “order” in Hebrew and marks the ritual meal held the first two nights of Passover, the Jewish holiday that is both a celebration of freedom from slavery in Egypt and a protest for those left behind. During a seder we read...