NEXT YEAR IN A MORE JUST WORLD

NEXT YEAR IN A MORE JUST WORLD A GLOBAL JUSTICE HAGGADAH Dear Friends, As Jewish global citizens, we believe the Passover story, moving from slavery ...
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NEXT YEAR IN A MORE JUST WORLD A GLOBAL JUSTICE HAGGADAH

Dear Friends, As Jewish global citizens, we believe the Passover story, moving from slavery to freedom, is as relevant today as it has ever been. To make this powerful connection, AJWS publishes original readings and social justice commentaries to be shared around the Seder table. This year, in celebration of our 30th anniversary, we have compiled a selection of these writings from the past decade into a brief Haggadah that connects the traditional Passover stories and verses to a spectrum of issues that matter today: refugees and genocide, global hunger, violence against women and the oppression of minorities. We hope that you will use this volume to enrich your Passover experience, sparking conversation and action to help bring justice, freedom and equality to people worldwide. Our aspiration for a better future embodies AJWS’s own version of the traditional Passover incantation, “next year in Jerusalem.” In our reflections on Passover and in our hope and actions every single day, we strive to build a more just world so that next year, all people can live full lives free from poverty and oppression. We hope these readings by AJWS and commentaries by Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Congresswoman Jan Schakowsky and Chancellor of The Jewish Theological Seminary Arnold Eisen help you express your heartfelt commitment to social justice. For a complete selection of Passover readings, commentaries and text studies by AJWS and respected thinkers and global leaders, visit www.ajws.org/Passover. Wishing you Pesach sameach, a zisn Peysakh—a joyous Passover, Ruth Messinger President and incoming Global Ambassador Robert Bank Executive Vice President and incoming President

CANDLE LIGHTING:

Bringing light into the darkness

As we light these candles and welcome the glow of Passover into our homes, we pray that all those suffering around the world find light amid the darkness. We pray that our experience tonight helps us to ignite the spark of justice within each of us. We pray that we have the strength to carry forth this light into the world, creating a beautiful and bold flame that inspires others to work by our sides to pursue freedom and justice for all people.

THE FIRST CUP:

The power of our freedom

On Passover, we revel in our freedom—gathering around the Seder table with our loved ones, telling stories of the ancient Israelites’ miraculous journey from slavery to redemption. At this time of rejoicing, we also remember the great responsibility that freedom creates: to speak out for people who are still oppressed around the world today. As we recite the blessing over the wine, which is symbolic of our freedom, let us pray for and work toward the moment when all human beings will celebrate their liberation, experience equality and live secure, peaceful lives. As we recline in comfort this night and remember our suffering in Egypt... We commit to support those who suffer today in the darkness of disasters and disease, from earthquakes to Ebola. As we enjoy bountiful food and drink this night and remember our starvation in Egypt… We commit to support those who struggle today with the horrors of hunger. As we joyfully learn with our children this night and remember the decree against baby boys in Egypt… We commit to support children robbed of their childhoods because of violent conflict and child marriage. As we celebrate our freedom this night and remember the chains of slavery in Egypt… We commit to stand in solidarity with people whose freedoms are denied by governments that abuse the rights of their citizens. As we raise our glasses, let us pledge to rise and support all those throughout the world who seek to shed the chains of poverty, violence and discrimination and who strive for a future of dignity and justice. Together, we must ensure freedom for all.

HA LACHMA ANYA:

Let all who are hungry, come and eat Ha lachma anya—this is the bread of affliction. At the Seder, we begin as slaves. We eat matzah, the bread of affliction, which leaves us hungry and longing for redemption. It reminds us of a time when we couldn’t control what food was available to us, but ate what we could, out of necessity. The matzah enables us to taste slavery—to imagine what it means to be denied our right to live free and healthy lives. But, while we will soon enjoy a large meal and end the Seder night as free people, 795 million people around the world cannot leave the affliction of hunger behind. Each year, more than 3 million children under age 5 die from starvation.1 Let us awaken to their cries and declare:

Kol dichfin yeitei v’yeichol—let all who are hungry, come and eat. As we sit at our Seder and contemplate our people’s transition from slavery to freedom, let us hope for a time when all who are hungry will eat as free people: Let all people have access to dependable sources of sustenance. Let local farms flourish and local economies strengthen. Let exploitation of natural resources cease so that the land may nourish its inhabitants. Let communities bolster themselves against the destruction wrought by flood and drought. Let our world leaders recognize food as a basic human right and put an end to world hunger. The Passover Seder inspires us to take action and commit ourselves to working toward these and other sustainable changes. As the Seder guides us from scarcity to plenty, let us empower others on their paths to sustenance. Hashata avdei—this year, we are still slaves. Leshanah haba’ah b’nei chorin—next year, we will be free people.

This year, hunger and malnutrition are still the greatest risks to health around the world. Next year, may the bread of affliction be simply a symbol, and may all people enjoy the bread of plenty, the bread of freedom.

1

World Food Programme; UNICEF

THE FOUR QUESTIONS:

Why is this year different from all other years? Why is this night different from all other nights? Mah nishtanah ha-lailah ha-zeh mi-kol ha-lailot?

We know the traditional answers to this question: On this night, we eat matzah and bitter herbs, we dip and we recline. But there are far deeper answers that connect the themes of Passover to our world’s most pressing problems. On most other nights, we allow the news of tragedy in distant places to pass us by. We succumb to compassion fatigue—aware that we cannot possibly respond to every injustice that arises around the world. On this night, we are reminded that our legacy as the descendants of slaves creates in us a different kind of responsibility—we are to protect the stranger because we were strangers in the land of Egypt. Let us add a fifth question to this year’s Seder. Let us ask ourselves, How can we make this year different from all other years? This year, this Passover, let us recommit to our sacred responsibility to protect the stranger—particularly vulnerable and persecuted people like the Rohingya minority in Burma, indigenous people in Guatemala and LGBT people in Uganda—whose suffering is so easily ignored. Let us infuse the rituals of the Seder with action: • When tasting the matzah, the bread of poverty, let us find ways to help the poor and the hungry. • When eating the maror, the bitter herbs, let us commit to help those whose lives are embittered by disease. • When spilling wine from our glasses to mourn the Egyptians’ suffering during the 10 plagues, let us pledge to aid those who suffer from modern afflictions. • When reclining in celebration of our freedom, let us seek opportunities to help those who are still oppressed today. At this season of liberation, join us in working for the liberation of all people. Help us respond to the Seder’s questions with actions that echo our calls for justice.

THE FOUR CHILDREN:

Transforming questions into action At Passover each year, we read the story of our ancestors’ pursuit of liberation from oppression. When confronting this history, how do we answer our children when they ask us how to pursue justice in our time? What does the activist child ask? “The Torah tells me, ‘Justice, justice you shall pursue,’ but how can I pursue justice?” Empower her always to seek pathways to advocate for the vulnerable. As Proverbs teaches, “Speak up for the mute, for the rights of the unfortunate. Speak up, judge righteously, champion the poor and the needy.” What does the skeptical child ask? “How can I solve problems of such enormity?” Encourage him by explaining that he need not solve the problems, he must only do what he is capable of doing. As we read in Pirke Avot—The Ethics of our Ancestors, “It is not your responsibility to complete the work, but neither are you free to desist from it.” What does the indifferent child say? “It’s not my responsibility.” Persuade her that responsibility cannot be shirked. As Abraham Joshua Heschel writes, “The opposite of good is not evil, the opposite of good is indifference. In a free society where terrible wrongs exist, some are guilty, but all are responsible.” And the uninformed child who does not know how to ask... Prompt him to see himself as an inheritor of our people’s legacy. As it says in Deuteronomy, “You must befriend the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” At this season of liberation, let us work toward the liberation of all people. Let us respond to our children’s questions with action and justice.

DAYENU:

Supporting the long journey from disaster to recovery We recognize that our people’s liberation was not achieved in the single moment of the Exodus, but that it happened gradually over 40 years in the desert and continues to unfold for each of us, personally, today. As we sing Dayenu, we recall our redemption from Egypt, the splitting of the sea, the care with which God sustained us in the wilderness, the giving of the Torah and our arrival in the land of Israel. And although we express gratitude for each moment by saying, “it would have been enough,” we know that all of these steps were necessary. Had the journey ended with the leaving of Egypt, we would not be free people today. This message resonates with us as we witness the cataclysmic disasters, wars and conflicts that cause contemporary upheaval and exodus around the world. Let us stand with people in places like Burma—where ethnic minorities face expulsion and the threat of genocide; and the Dominican Republic—where hundreds of thousands of citizens are being denied their citizenship because of xenophobia by an oppressive government. As today’s freedom-seekers depart their own Egypts, contend with obstacles as formidable as the raging sea, and find the strength to persevere through the myriad challenges that lie ahead, we stand proudly, as Jews, with them. Let us draw from the example of Dayenu and reach out our hands to support these communities every step of the way: If the world hears the cries of the oppressed, but does not come to their aid… It will not be enough. If we empower our brothers and sisters to escape violence, but fail to offer them refuge… It will not be enough. If our generosity supports the needs of today, but forsakes the needs of tomorrow… It will not be enough. However, if we sustain our support until stability, peace and independence have been attained… Dayenu! Then it will be enough. Just as the Israelites needed sustained support at each step of their journey, so too do those around the world who are living in the shadow of disasters and oppression. May this night remind us of the continuing need to help others in their struggles to attain true freedom.

NEXT YEAR IN A MORE JUST WORLD The traditional aspiration, “Next Year in Jerusalem,” is our people’s millennia-old hope for redemption. At AJWS, our yearning takes the form of hope and action for a more just world. Join us, this year, in helping achieve… Peace in societies torn by war Freedom from bigotry and oppression Equality for minorities shunned by prejudice and hatred Respect for the aspirations and humanity of women and girls Acceptance for people persecuted for who they are or whom they love Sustenance for communities living in hunger A safe harbor for refugees and survivors of violence And the promise of dignity and human rights for all. Together, with those around this Seder table and with our global family connected by our collective pursuit of justice, we pray: “Next year in a more just world.” And through our actions from this Passover to the next, let us make this dream a reality.

ESSAYS FOR FURTHER CONTEMPLATION THE HEROIC AND VISIONARY WOMEN OF PASSOVER By Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Rabbi Lauren Holtzblatt On Passover, Jews are commanded to tell the story of the Exodus and to see ourselves as having lived through that story, so that we may better learn how to live our lives today. The stories we tell our children shape what they believe to be possible—which is why, at Passover, we must tell the stories of the women who played a crucial role in the Exodus narrative. The Book of Exodus, much like the Book of Genesis, opens in pervasive darkness. Genesis describes the earth as “unformed and void, with darkness over the surface of the deep.”2 In Exodus, darkness attends the accession of a new Pharaoh, who feared the Israelites and so enslaved them. God, alone, lights the way out of the darkness in Genesis. But in Exodus, God has many partners—first among them, five brave women. There is Yocheved, Moses’s mother, and Shifra and Puah, the famous midwives. Each defies Pharaoh’s decree to kill the Israelite baby boys. And there is Miriam, Moses’s sister, about whom the following midrash is taught: [When Miriam’s only brother was Aaron] she prophesied … “my mother is destined to bear a son who will save Israel.” When [Moses] was born the whole house … filled with light[.] [Miriam’s] father arose and kissed her on the head, saying, “My daughter, your prophecy has been fulfilled.” But when they threw [Moses] into the river her father tapped her on the head, saying, “Daughter, where is your prophecy?” So it is written, “And [Miriam] stood afar off to know what would be[come of] the latter part of her prophecy.”3 Finally, there is Pharaoh’s daughter Batya, who defies her own father and plucks baby Moses out of the Nile. The midrash reminds us that Batya knew exactly what she doing: When Pharaoh’s daughter’s handmaidens saw that she intended to rescue Moses, they attempted to dissuade her, and persuade her to heed her father. They said to her:

“Our mistress, it is the way of the world that when a king issues a decree, it is not heeded by the entire world, but his children and the members of his household do observe it, and you wish to transgress your father’s decree?”4 But transgress she did. These women had a vision leading out of the darkness shrouding their world. They were women of action, prepared to defy authority to make their vision a reality bathed in the light of the day. Retelling the heroic stories of Yocheved, Shifra, Puah, Miriam and Batya reminds our daughters that with vision and the courage to act, they can carry forward the tradition those intrepid women launched. While there is much light in today’s world, there remains in our universe disheartening darkness, inhumanity spawned by ignorance and hate. We see horrific examples in the Middle East, parts of Africa and Ukraine. The Passover story recalls to all of us—women and men—that with vision and action, we can join hands with others of like mind, kindling lights along paths leading out of the terrifying darkness.

Ruth Bader Ginsburg is a Justice of the United States Supreme Court. Appointed by President William Jefferson Clinton in 1993, she is known as a strong voice for gender equality, the rights of workers, and separation between church and state. Rabbi Lauren Holtzblatt is a rabbi at Adas Israel Congregation in Washington, D.C. She is co-creator of two nationally recognized community engagement projects—MakomDC and the Jewish Mindfulness Center of Washington.

Genesis 1:2 Babylonian Talmud, Megillah 14a 4 Babylonian Talmud, Sotah 12b 2 3

IMAGINE A DIFFERENT WORLD By U.S. Representative Jan Schakowsky Passover is my favorite holiday. My family gathers together to eat the Seder meal, sing songs and remember the days when our people were enslaved in Egypt and the miraculous story of our deliverance. During that meal, in addition to the matzah and bitter herbs on our table, there is an orange on my Seder plate, symbolizing the marginalized people of the world and the imperative to fight for their liberation. We also fill a ceremonial cup of water to honor Miriam the prophet, sister of Moses and a central figure in the Exodus story. These symbols are meaningful, and yet Passover is more than a history lesson—it’s a call to action. It’s a time when, as individuals and as a community, we renew our commitment to justice. The Haggadah tells us that we should invite all who are in need to share the hope of Passover. Our faith asks us to take action to help the oppressed, so that all may enjoy the blessings of freedom. Freedom means many things, but to women and girls all around the world, it means living in a world free from daily threats of violence. The statistics are horrifying. One in three women will experience physical or sexual abuse. Women ages 15 to 44 are as likely to die from violence as from cancer. Every year, some 14 million adolescent girls give birth and, in many nations, it is the leading cause of death of 15- to 19-yearolds. Violence keeps girls from going to school, one reason that over 30 million girls worldwide go without education, even though we know an extra year of secondary schooling will help women raise their lifetime wages by 15 to 20 percent and would reduce child mortality—but they must be able to attend. Now imagine a different world—one in which girls are free to go to school, without having to look constantly over their shoulders and be ready to run to protect themselves. Imagine if women were free to start businesses or just go along on their daily activities without fear of rape or assault. Today, women make up nearly 70 percent of the world’s absolute poor—those living on less than a dollar a day. Think what a difference it would make if we could unleash their economic power. The good news is that we can build that world. American Jewish World Service is proving that women can be empowered to overcome tremendous obstacles. Since 1985, AJWS has been making a difference across the globe, including in some of the most dangerous places, like the Democratic Republic of Congo. In the DRC, women and girls have been brutally and systematically raped as a tactic of war. In some villages, as many as 90 percent of women have been raped. Patrick Cammaert, who served as UN Force Commander in the DRC, has said that it is “more dangerous to be a woman than to be a soldier.” I had the opportunity to travel to the DRC to see the work being done there. I visited the city of Bukavu, where I met extremely resilient women at City of Joy, a community where women who are survivors of violence can heal, learn and become successful. AJWS, City of Joy and others are working every day in the spirit of tikkun olam or “repairing the world,” by helping to restore the wellbeing of women and girls physically, emotionally, spiritually and economically.

Freeing women and girls from violence is transformative—for them, for their families, for their local economies and for global stability. That is why I have authored the International Violence Against Women Act, which would firmly establish the prevention of violence against women as a top foreign policy priority. IVAWA is particularly groundbreaking because it takes a comprehensive approach to the problem, facilitating a full spectrum of reforms that would impact judicial systems, health care and education, and that would empower women and girls economically and help end practices that disadvantage them. I am proud that advocating for passage of IVAWA is part of AJWS’s We Believe campaign. The campaign is bringing attention to the need to end violence against women and girls, end child marriage and stop hate crimes against LGBT people. It is a campaign that, like Passover, allows us to combine our beliefs and our actions. And, like Passover, it is committed to the spirit of freedom and justice. I believe that this will be the century of the woman—where women all around the globe will be able to reach our full potential, leading our communities—like Miriam led the Israelites—to freedom, peace, prosperity and celebration. Through the work of AJWS and our individual efforts, we will be able to achieve a world where women can succeed.

U.S. Representative Jan Schakowsky (D-IL) started her public career as a consumer advocate, leading a successful campaign for freshness dates on supermarket products. After years as an organizer fighting for affordable energy prices, health care and senior citizen rights, Schakowsky served in the Illinois General Assembly for eight years before being elected to Congress in 1998. Tikkun olam (repairing the world) has been the guiding theme in all of her work.

CHANGING THE WORLD, WITH GOD By Arnold M. Eisen, Chancellor of the Jewish Theological Seminary The Torah takes great pains, long before the Exodus narrative, to make clear to its readers that it wants far more than merely our interest or attention. It wants our active engagement. We are not here to read the story, but to live it; the point of rehearsing the story of the Israelites’ liberation from Egypt year after year is to carry that story forward. Redemption happened once, but it can—and should—happen again, with our help. That is the main point to be learned. Redemption, this time around, requires us. God needs human partners to the covenant to take risks, get to work and use their open hearts and political wisdom to perform acts of redemption in the world. Suffering, persecution, even genocide, did not end with Pharaoh. We read about them in the news every day. If the story teaches us that redemption requires our partnership, our responsibility is clear. The hard part, then, is not deciding whether we have an obligation. The question facing us, rather, is: “What shall we do to further God’s pursuit of justice?” How are we to know what action to take in response to the Torah’s demand? The rabbis declared 2,000 years ago that we dare not heed self-declared prophets and their “heavenly voices.” What voices shall we heed, then? How shall we know what to do? Where shall we find the wisdom to do it well? Abraham Joshua Heschel put the problem this way: “Infinite responsibility without infinite wisdom and infinite power is our ultimate embarrassment.” The portions of the Torah that frame the Exodus story provide four guidelines for action that depend, for their application, upon our reason and our experience, our compassion and our wisdom. Note that they are guidelines only—not specific directives. History is fluid. God, who enacts new phenomena in the world, apparently needs us to carry out new acts, as well, lest God’s teachings grow irrelevant in changed conditions. The proper application of the principles will always be subject to argument and doubt. But the principles themselves seem clear. 1. The world must be perfected in righteousness. History matters. We must never doubt this, though it is beyond logical proof. The standard for action is justice and compassion, the major attributes ascribed to God in the Torah. The world will be judged by its achievement of these virtues. So shall we. In pursuit of justice and compassion we, too, must heed the groans of the oppressed, liberate them from bondage, conduct them to freedom. 2. We are only human. We do not always will the good, cannot always identify it correctly and certainly do not always perform it. The Torah is therefore, by and large, a reformist rather than a revolutionary book. It knows that human nature remains the same mixture of good and less-than-good that it has always been, and it therefore provides laws to guide and constrain our conduct at every point. There are times when great change must be accomplished swiftly, because evil is clear and must be stopped— genocide is a prime example of this. Most of the time, the Torah seems to prefer gradual change. Either way, it urges us to act with our eyes open to the consequences, including those we do not intend. For these, too, we are responsible.

3. When in doubt as to the proper ends of political and social reform, heed the prophets. The poor must be fed. The homeless must be housed. Murder must be stopped. The planet and its species (a newly relevant imperative) must be protected. Again, it is up to us figure out how best to do these things, weighing one injustice against another and justice against compassion. Our world is such a mess. We are tempted sometimes to do nothing or to wait for God to fix it for us. But this our tradition forbids— and besides, so much that needs doing is entirely clear. The prophets repeated the agenda over and over: Feed the poor, house the homeless, stop murder and genocide, free slaves, guard the Earth. 4. Above all, keep the promise to life that God made to humanity after the Flood. It is up to us to safeguard God’s creatures and especially those who bear God’s image. We are fulfilled as individuals, the Torah teaches, to the degree that we redeem the promise for good stored up in every one of us.The imperative is “not in heaven,” not across the sea, not beyond understanding: “Choose life!” I find great comfort in this clarity, as well as great discomfort—the latter because we can never do enough, we are never “off the hook”; the former because the Torah is clearly meant for us, and teaches us, fallible human beings, what we must do for the world. We know, too, that a life spent doing it is infinitely worthwhile. Chancellor Arnold M. Eisen, one of the world’s foremost experts on American Judaism, is the seventh chancellor of The Jewish Theological Seminary. Since his inauguration in 2007, Chancellor Eisen has met with world leaders, engaged in prominent interdenominational and interfaith dialogues and championed a transformation in the education of the next generation of Conservative leadership.

All photos by Jonathan Torgovnik

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