Leftist Jewish groups are calling on a Long Island synagogue to cancel a speech by an outspoken Jewish blogger known for her anti-Muslim views.Click here for the rest of the article...
We each go through our own grieving process when we lose a loved one, but reciting the Mourner’s Kaddish is the most common ritual across our community. We stand together in remembrance of those who have recently passed or whose anniversary we are observing, gathering strength from those with us. This prayer does not once mention “death”; instead together we say, “May God’s great name be blessed for ever, and to all eternity.”
This morning, Jerusalem District Police Chief Yossi Pariente announced that he would enforce a prohibition against women saying specific prayers at the Kotel (the Western Wall), including the kaddish. Pariente explained the enforcement procedures in a letter to Women of the Wall, a group led by Anat Hoffman (director of our Israel Religious Action Center) who are arrested on the first day of each month for wearing talitot and laying t’filin at the Kotel. In this letter he referenced the restrictions that are already in existence – barring women from praying as a minyan - as well as the 2005 Israel Supreme Court decision, which prohibited women from changing the “traditional practices” at the Western Wall. This announcement comes after years of tension around a woman’s right to wear religious garb at the Kotel.
The timing of this restriction is particularly disturbing; as the month of Iyar begins, we prepare to commemorate Yom Ha’atzmaut (the proclamation of the State of Israel) and Yom Ha’Zikaron (the day of remembrance for Israeli fallen soldiers). Hoffman expressed her outrage: “The days symbolize more than anything else the unity surrounding the collective fate of the Jewish people.”
Word of the letter sent to the Women of the Wall spread quickly across the Jewish Diaspora. In fact, only hours after the letter was released, Jewish Agency chairman Natan Sharansky met with Rabbi Shmuel Rabinowitz, chairman of the Western Wall Heritage Foundation. He told the rabbi in their meeting, “The Kotel must continue to be a symbol of unity for all Jews in the world and not a symbol of strife and discord.” According to Sharansky, Rabbi Rabinowitz ensured him that the restrictions would be stepped back, although we are still waiting for that statement to be made formally.
This particular battle may have been won, but there is still a long way to go. Israel is the land that embodies our highest ideals of collectivism as a Jewish people, the land that has allowed us to reimagine our history of victimhood into one of pride and hope. As Rabbi Saperstein said when Hoffman was first arrested six months ago: “There is no denominational monopoly on the spirituality of the Kotel, and it is intolerable that any woman should be arrested for praying at one of Judaism’s most cherished sites. The role of Israeli police should rather be to protect those who pray.”
Image courtesy of AFP.
Jewish Agency chairman Natan Sharansky met Thursday with Rabbi Shmuel Rabinowitz, chairman of the Western Wall Heritage Foundation, to express his shock at a letter sent by police warning that women would be arrested for reciting the Kaddish mourner’s prayer at the Western Wall.Click here for the rest of the article...
[The Blue Card](www.bluecardfund.org], a non-profit that aids impoverished Holocaust survivors in need of financial and medical aid, has hired Masha Girshin as its new executive director.Click here for the rest of the article...
By Rabbi Edwin Goldberg
Many years ago, during the Yom Kippur morning service, a certain rabbi was interrupted (albeit politely) by the oldest member of the synagogue. He asked if he could ascend the bimah and ask the rabbi a question. How could the rabbi say no? Here was the question: “On the High Holy Days how many Avinu Malkeinus are there?” Avinu Malkeinu is the liturgical interlude that appears throughout the service on the Days of Awe. This was, in fact, a trick question. The rabbi thought about the numerous repetitions of this recitation and blurted out something like, “100.” The gentleman, showing an amused grin, barked out, “No, Rabbi. In Judaism there is always just one Avinu Malkeinu.” Of course, theologically he was correct: we believe in one God.
A version of this declaration appears almost two thousand years ago, in the Talmud. From the beginning, Avinu Malkeinu was understood to be an appeal for God’s mercy.
Rabbi Eliezer once stood before the Ark [during a drought] and recited the twenty-four benedictions for fast days but his prayer was not answered. Rabbi Akiva stood there after him and proclaimed: “Avinu Malkeinu, our Father, our King, we have no King but You; our Father, our King, have mercy upon us” and rain fell… (Babylonian Talmud Taanit 25b)
Avinu (our father) represents God’s compassion. Malkeinu (our king) signifies God’s stern, judgmental face. Avinu Malkeinu asks that God’s judgment be tempered by God’s mercy.
The theme of moving God from judgment to compassion is widespread throughout the Days of Awe, and is also a request applied to ourselves. Just as we wish to know God’s mercy, so should we show mercy to each other and to ourselves.
Throughout the Days of Awe, Avinu Malkeinu is recited before the open Ark, as was done by the ancient rabbis. The beginning of each line is the same: “Avinu Malkeinu, we have sinned before You.” What follows is a specific listing of wrongdoings. The list varies in each service. The composer Max Janowski set one such list to music, and Barbra Streisand even recorded it.
In the work of creating a new Reform machzor, there has been an effort to find a different word to characterize our moral challenges, as we stand before God. The word “sin” carries a great deal of cultural baggage in our country. Often it is considered in a Christian context, as in “a state of sin.” Judaism does not understand sin in this way. For Jews, sin is a matter of missing the moral mark. It is not a state of being; it is a matter of doing something wrong.
In order to find a new but faithful way of translating the notion of sin into a modern idiom, the editors have been piloting this version:
“Avinu Malkeinu, we come before You in our brokenness.”
Why such an approach? “Brokenness” captures our need for healing and repentance without using metaphors all too often associated with images of hell and damnation. It’s not that there are not consequences for our acts; and “brokenness” means more than a need of healing. We must take responsibility for our choices. “Brokenness” does not get us off the hook. But it does offer a way of dealing with our shortcomings without putting us on the defensive or allowing us to slide into a non-Jewish view of sin.
In its original context in the Talmud, Avinu Malkeinu was recited in response to a drought. The idea was that a drought must have been caused by God due to our moral failings. Throwing ourselves on God’s mercy was our best hope for salvation from starvation.
Theologically, such thinking is very problematic for us. Most of us–including myself–do not believe that God punishes us with droughts. We also know that good people often suffer and bad people go unpunished. Nevertheless, we also believe that righteous people know they are responsible for their actions, even if—being human—they will never meet the highest of Divine expectations. So we do our best and hope that God understands.
When I recite or listen to Avinu Malkeinu, this is my prayer: God, help me become a better me. Even when I miss the mark. Even in my brokenness.
Rabbi Edwin Goldberg has served as the senior rabbi of Temple Judea in Coral Gables since 1996. In July he will begin serving as the senior rabbi of Temple Sholom of Chicago. He is the coordinating editor of the forthcoming CCAR Machzor and is the author of five books. His newest book is, Saying No and Letting Go: Jewish Wisdom on Making Room for What Matters Most.
Last week, we began the seven week-long process of counting the omer – a ritual in which we count every day from Pesach, when the Israelites were freed from Egypt, to Shavuot, when the Israelites received the Torah. There are many reasons for and interpretations of the omer, but in a lot of ways, it really comes down to the passage of time, and how we count and notice time in our own lives.
For a woman who is pregnant, the passage of time, and of weeks in particular, is especially present. The answer to “how far along are you?” is often given in weeks, as are critical milestones along the 9 month (36 week) process. One important milestone that has been translated into public policy is “viability” – the stage at which a fetus could survive outside of the womb. This is the standard employed in Roe v. Wade to determine when abortions are or are not acceptable – Roe legalized abortion until the fetus was viable, generally between 22 to 24 weeks into the pregnancy (although viability itself is admittedly a constantly moving target as technologies change and adapt).
Yet in a questionably legal move at the end of last month, North Dakota politicians introduced a new and much stricter metric. HB1456, which was signed into law just last week, requires physicians to determine whether there’s a detectable heartbeat prior to performing an abortion. Performing an abortion willingly after a heartbeat has been detected will now, under this new law, be considered a felony. This can happen as early as six weeks into the pregnancy, making North Dakota the most restrictive state in terms of abortion access in the country.
It takes seven full weeks for the Israelites to spiritually ready themselves to receive the Torah. It takes longer than that for many women to even realize that they are pregnant, let alone learn the necessary information and go through the personal and emotional processes of deciding whether or not an abortion is right for her or her family. As we continue to count the omer, let us think about the ramifications of noting the passage of time in this way, and about how time works – or doesn’t work – to help our development and advancement, emotionally or spiritually.
by Rabbi Yair D. Robinson
Last Shabbat, we commemorated the birthday of someone very special. A red-headed and red-bearded rabbi, a scholar, a prince of the Reform Movement who is inarguably one of the most important Reform rabbis — nay, one of the most important rabbis, period — of North America.
Amazingly, I’m not speaking about myself (though last Shabbat was my birthday, too), but rather of Isaac Mayer Wise, founder of the Reform Movement we take for granted, who was born March 29, 1819. Wise was a great publisher of scholarly texts, a Jewish paper, the American Israelite, still published today, and founded the Hebrew Union College, the Union of American Hebrew Congregations, now the Union for Reform Judaism, and the Central Conference of American Rabbis. While one could argue that there might have been Reform without Wise, it would not have been the Movement we know and love today.
If Wise could see today, what would he think of his Reform Judaism, or of the Jewish world in general? There are some things that would surely delight him.
An advocate of youth engagement who did away with the bar mitzvah and replaced it with confirmation, and started Hebrew Union College originally as a high school and college program, Wise would be thrilled to see the myriad camps and youth groups, the energy put into reviving Jewish education and making it meaningful for a new generation. He would love social media: without a doubt, Wise would be tweeting away his thoughts to his public, blogging rather than publishing a newspaper. He would appreciate our prayerbook, Mishkan T’filah, as his own siddur, Minhag America, is actually not so different, with Hebrew and English options, running commentary, and the option of making the service more or less traditional.
And as someone who was politically active, and believed firmly that Judaism would be the religion of all enlightened folk, he would be proud of the fact that so many of our values are a part of the warp and woof of our society, proud of the work of the Religious Action Center, American Jewish World Service, and the host of other Jewish organizations advocating for human dignity and freedom in America and abroad.
And, likewise, Wise should take some measure of pride at our place in history. While, without a doubt we wring our hands over population surveys and demographic studies, as the Economist pointed out this past summer, never in Jewish history has there been so much vitality or creativity in our people — in social justice, in music, the arts, scholarship, worship, education, Israel and international engagement, the contemporary Jew has an embarrassment of riches when it comes to involvement, with a myriad of choices and opportunities to enrich and enliven his or her Judaism, should he or she choose.
Yet, there are some things that would give Wise pause, and not the ones you might imagine. While he would be proud of the growth of his institutions—the scholarship of the College, the number of synagogues and individuals who call themselves Reform, the diversity and creativity of the Movement’s membership—he would still be disappointed. For Wise wasn’t interested in creating a Reform Movement, a separate stream of Judaism. Wise wanted to reform Judaism, to create an American Judaism that responded to the exigencies of modern reality, that was welcoming and embracing, moderate and pragmatic, democratic in nature that spoke to all Jews in the New World. There is a reason his congregational organization was called the “Union of AMERICAN HEBREW Congregations”; when we changed our name, we gave up hope on Wise’s vision, that there could ever be a unified American Judaism.
And yet, we find again and again that Reform is on the right side of history—with egalitarianism, interfaith engagement, social action, Human and Civil Rights, LGBT issues, we find the other Jewish movements playing catch-up to us. And even as we “become more traditional” (or, as my teacher Shelly Zimmerman put it, “become more playful with tradition,” it is in the way Wise would have wanted, in a fully American fashion. Whether it is the wearing of ritual garb, the increase in Hebrew in our liturgy, use of music, or more recently the exploration of Jewish sacred eating, including kashrut, the Reform Movement explores the issues through thoughtfulness, an invitation for self-exploration, a deepening of personal meaning, pragmatism, and finally, adopts the practice in a fully modern expression. While there has never been one American Judaism, we can take pride in knowing that ours is, perhaps, the most American expression of our faith — one that cedes ultimate authority, besides the Almighty, to the individual alone.
In 1876 in his book The Cosmic God, Wise wrote:
“I opened the Bible [and] read: ‘Unless thy law had been my delight, I should long since have been lost in my affliction.’ It struck me forcibly. ‘There is the proper remedy for all afflictions.’ When those ancient Hebrews spoke of the law of God, they meant the whole of it revealed in God’s words and works…Research, science, philosophy, deep and perplexing, problems most intricate and propositions most complicated…”
In a world where we’re too often given the false choice of faith versus reason, where the idea of moderate or liberal religion seems oxymoronic, Wise reminds us that faith and reason, spirituality and liberalism, go hand in hand. In a world where we strive for democratic ideals expressed deeply and spiritually, and where we expect our Jewish values to be realized in modern and universal terms, Wise is there, urging us on. The world Isaac Mayer Wise knew is a world quite foreign to us, and vice versa, but on his birthday, we are reminded that his legacy is one that enriches us today, one that saw our tradition not narrowly, but as the means of enlightenment and redemption for the world.
Rabbi Yair Robinson serves Congregation Beth Emeth in Wilmington, DE.
Originally published at A Good Question!
Capt. Sarah Schechter, the Jewish chaplain of the 11th Wing at Joint Base Andrews in Maryland, is the first ever female U.S. Air Force rabbi in 40 years of women serving as military chaplains.Click here for the rest of the article...
Projected prayers and images are becoming increasingly popular in synagogues. But does it change the feel of worship for better or for worse?Click here for the rest of the article...
At dawn on Tuesday morning, a large group gathered on a mountain in the Negev desert to reenact the moments leading up to the Israelites’ exodus from Egypt.Click here for the rest of the article...
Don Byron’s tribute to Borscht Belt musician and comedian Mickey Katz brought him plenty of attention 20 years ago. Now, the clarinetist looks back on his role in the klezmer music revival.Click here for the rest of the article...
Editor’s Note: Rabbi Eger gave the following address on Monday at a rally before the Supreme Court organized by United for Marriage, a coalition that supports marriage equality. This week, the Supreme Court of the United States heard oral arguments in California’s Prop 8 case and the Defense of Marriage Act case. Read Rabbi Eger’s blog post about the cases.
As a rabbi and president-elect of the Central Conference of American Rabbis, I come here to be with you this morning at the Supreme Court on the very first day of Passover to say: Our nation is ready for marriage equality.
This is one of the holiest days of the Jewish calendar. It marks the day in Jewish tradition when we mark the Exodus from slavery in ancient Egypt; it marks the beginning of a journey to freedom. Today is our day to march toward that freedom, the freedom to marry.
I represent more than 2,500 Reform rabbis. We support marriage equality and have filed Friends of the Court briefs in both today’s Prop 8 case and tomorrow’s DOMA case. Do not let others tell you that all religions oppose LGBT equality rights. We Reform Jews welcome, support, include, and, yes, advocate full rights and equality, including the right to marry the ones we love.
As a Californian and rabbi of West Hollywood for 25 years now, I had the honor of performing the first wedding in California once the Supreme Court found that marriage between same-sex couples was legal. Robin Tyler and Diane Olson stood beneath the wedding canopy – the chuppah – on the steps of the Beverly Hills courthouse as I pronounced them married by the power vested in me by the State of California. And in 2008, I had the privilege of marrying over 60 couples between July and November.
But like the plagues that descended upon the Passover story, Prop 8 descended upon California, and since that time, I’ve tried and tirelessly worked to restore marriage equality in my state and across the nation.
As every clergy person knows , marriage is a civil right in our country. Religions can choose or not choose to sanctity that right, but the state cannot and must not discriminate against its citizens – including all of us same-sex couples.
Today, on Passover, we gather here in sincerest prayer. We demand, like Moses and Aaron and Miriam of old, “Let my people go!” Let my people go forth to the wedding chapel. Let my people go to love our spouses and to marry them. In our nation, of people of all backgrounds and faith and creeds and no faith at all, recent polling has told us the strong majority favor equality and justice, including the freedom to marry the ones we love.
Today, we want marriage equality to be restored to California and for the unconstitutional Defense of Marriage Act to fall into the dustbin of history. So we say, like the children of Israel who left ancient Egypt, we, on this Passover morning and holy week, want to leave our inequality behind. Hear our prayer, hear our voices, hear the call to freedom and liberty for the LGBT community. The time for marriage is now!
Rabbi Denise L. Eger is the spiritual leader of Congregation Kol Ami: West Hollywood’s Reform Synagogue and President-Elect of the Central Conference of American Rabbis. You can learn more about Rabbi Eger and follow her blog at www.rabbieger.wordpress.com, or on Twitter @deniseeger.
By Rabbi Richard Sarason
It is an irony of history that the very language now so controversial in Avinu Malkeinu (namely, the masculine-gendered, hierarchical images of God as “Father” and “King”) is what made this prayerful appeal so distinctive and effective for its original users.
Avinu Malkeinu is a penitential litany. That means that it uses the (now problematic) refrain, “Our Father, our King,” repeatedly to invoke the gracious favor of a God who is conceived of as both distant and approachable, both stern and merciful; whose powerful nature can be portrayed as both Ruler and Parent toward the people Israel, who view themselves during the High Holy Day season as both dependent and unworthy of favor – “Deal with us graciously for Your own sake, since we can plead little merit before You.” Encapsulated here are the ambivalent feelings of we mortals toward the power in the world outside us over which we have uncertain or little control.
The prayer formula was originally associated with situations of extreme human need: those occasional fast days proclaimed because of drought in the land of Israel, as indicated in the following talmudic narrative:
It is related of Rabbi Eliezer that he once stepped before the ark [to lead the congregation in prayer] and recited the twenty-four benedictions [of the Amidah for fast-days called on account of drought1], and his prayer was not answered. Rabbi Akiva stepped before the ark after him and exclaimed:
Our Father, our King! We have no king but You!2
Our Father, our King! For Your sake, have compassion for us! And rain fell.
(Babylonian Talmud, Ta’anit 25b)
The efficacy of Rabbi Akiva’s invocation of divine compassion, bestowed here through the gift of rainfall, was deemed to reside in his calling upon God both as “our Father”—the intimate parental relationship—and “our King”—acknowledging God’s sovereignty and rulership over us. It was on the basis of this understanding that the earliest fully written-out liturgy, Seder Rav Amram (9th c.), prescribed the use of this formula on the fast day of Yom Kippur, on Rosh Hashanah, and on the ten days between them, in addition to other fast days—that is to say, on those liturgical occasions that have a distinctly penitential character, enacting both the extremity of human need and the subjective sense of little worth in God’s presence.
The litany itself consists of the repeated invocation Avinu Malkeinu followed by any number of petitions for God’s compassionate care. For example:
Our Father, our King! Deal with us [graciously] for the sake of Your name [i.e., reputation]!
Our Father, our King! Send a complete healing to the sick among Your people!
Our Father, our King! Remove from us plague, sword, famine, and destruction!
Our Father, our King! Remember that we are but dust and ashes!
Our Father, our King! Speedily bring us salvation!
Seder Rav Amram lists twenty-five such petitions; the current Ashkenazic rite has forty-four! Most Reform prayer books have reduced the number of petitions (the UPB had only seven), both for reasons of length and because the extreme penitential rhetoric of some of these petitions was offensive to a modern sense of human adequacy and competence. Gates of Repentance, which included more of the traditional liturgy, also included more of the Avinu Malkeinu petitions—concluding with the one that pleads our lack of merit, since that one is commonly sung to a well-known eastern European melody, and thereby has come to typify the entire litany for many American Jews.
When the first day of Rosh Hashanah or Yom Kippur falls on Shabbat, Avinu Malkeinu traditionally is omitted, because its strong supplicatory rhetoric and its vaunted verbal efficacy are deemed inappropriate for a day of rest (even God should not be compelled to work on Shabbat!)3. In the traditional liturgy, Avinu Malkeinu is not recited in the evening service of either Rosh Hashanah or Yom Kippur; it is saved for the day. Both the UPB and GOR include it in the evening services as well.
While earlier generations of Reform Jews had difficulty with the extreme penitential rhetoric of Avinu Malkeinu, our generation has also had trouble with its masculine and hierarchical images of God—so much so that the 1996 gender-sensitive edition of Gates of Repentance included at the back of the book a feminized version of the prayer, Shechina, M’kor Chayenu:
Shechina, Source of our lives, Motherly/Holy/Gentle/Guiding/Nurturing/Compassionate/Caring/Loving Presence . . .
Further alternatives for both aspects of this litany are being explored in the draft versions of the new CCAR Mahzor and will be discussed by members of its editorial team next week.
- This is the custom of the Mishnah, Ta’anit 2:2, whereby the daily eighteen benedictions of the Amidah would be supplemented by six additional ones, identified there as Zichronot, Shofarot, and four psalms: 120, 121, 130, and 102, all of which invoke God in times of distress. An appropriate chatimah concluded each of these psalms, and the shofar would be blown after each one. This custom is no longer in use.
- In the best medieval manuscript of the Babylonian Talmud (Ms. Munich 95), this is preceded by the formal confession, “Our Father, our King! We have sinned before You!”
- Since the second day of Rosh Hashanah never falls on Shabbat (for reasons having to do with food preparation), the recitation of Avinu Malkeinu is delayed until then. Similarly, when Yom Kippur falls on Shabbat, the recitation of Avinu Malkeinu is delayed until the Neilah service. Those Reform congregations that only observe one day of Rosh Hashanah generally recite Avinu Malkeinu on Shabbat. Similarly, when Yom Kippur falls on Shabbat, most Reform congregations will recite Avinu Malkeinu at all services.
Dr. Sarason is Professor of Rabbinic Literature and Thought and the Associate Editor of the Hebrew Union College Annual. He was ordained at HUC-JIR.
Last week, there was a Reform wedding outside the Knesset. Lin and her new husband exchanged vows in a ceremony officiated by Rabbi Gilad Kariv and Rabbi Kinneret Shiryon. Friends, family, members of our movement and its youth group, rabbinical students, and five Members of Knesset attended the wedding. The ceremony was beautiful and full of meaning for the couple and for all Jews in Israel who seek to end the ultra-Orthodox monopoly on religious life.
The Knesset Members (four from the Labor party and one from Meretz) who attended all spoke about the need to end the status quo on marriage and divorce. Rabbi Gilad Kariv, Executive Director of the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism, commended the couple’s courage to stand in front of the Knesset and declare that they should not be held captive by the Orthodox Rabbinate.
MK Mickey Rosenthal said that Judaism belongs to all of us and we won’t let it be monopolized. MK Merav Michaeli spoke about how this new coalition agreement leads us all to ask who is a Jew? What is Judaism? What is the real role of a Jewish woman and who is really protecting her rights? Finally, MK Stav Shafir spoke about the new generation in Israeli politics not only talking about freedom but also acting on those demands. Words are not enough!
We all feel joy and excitement for the new couple as they embark on this new chapter of their lives together, but I am sure many of you are wondering if this wedding today “counts” as a real wedding. The simple answer is not yet. They exchanged vows, a medallion and an Israeli flag instead of rings, they were given the Sheva Brachot (seven blessings), and a glass was broken.
They said the proper declarations of commitment (hari ata/at mukudesh/et li… etc.) so, as far as Judaism is concerned they are married. However, as far as the Jewish State is concerned, they are two single people who woke up early and ate bagels outside the Knesset with their friends and family. They are not married in the eyes of the state.
Just as we should all be able to choose who we marry, we should be able to choose how we marry. We all congratulate the new couple and we wish them a long and happy life. We also hope that soon all couples in Israel will be able to celebrate their unions in their own way in their own country.
As you sit down for your seder this year, prepare for a richer experience. These specialized haggadahs provide insight and awareness for a more meaningful seder. Whether you download an entire haggadah focused on one social justice issue or adding thematic supplements, Pesach is the perfect opportunity to inform our Jewish rituals with social justice concerns.
Visit our holiday guide for even more resources to enhance your Passover!
This reminds us that the slavery found in the story of Pesach is not just ancient history. The Jewish people escaped slavery in Egypt, but many people are still enslaved across the world today.
Remember the valuable role of the labor movement in the pursuit of economic and social justice.
During your seder, take an additional ten drops out of our glasses to show how others are suffering today so that we may have the electronic devices that run our lives.
This resource connects the Jewish journey to the journey of African Americans. The past experience of slavery in America brings a new perspective to the story of the exodus.
Provided by Rabbi Camille Shira Angel, this haggadah celebrates LGBTQ equality. As we prepare for oral arguments in two landmark marriage equality cases at the Supreme Court on the first two days of Passover, this haggadah is all the more relevant.
As we celebrate with abundant food, there are many people all over the world suffering from hunger.
Take this opportunity to connect your seder to our planet especially as spring blooms around us.
Bring the Jewish journey from Egypt to Israel into the present day Middle East and take time during your Passover meal to talk about prospects for peace in Israel.
As genocide rages on in Darfur, let us remember the cry heard so often in relation to the Holocaust: Never Again!
Welcome guests to your seder as we advocate for comprehensive immigration reform in the United States. This day more than any other reminds us that we were once strangers in the land of Egypt.
Add these readings to your seder before each of the four cups of wine to inspire our commitment to reproductive justice.