Although I write this still "recovering" from the craze of Passover preparations, as you read this, I imagine that our annually-used items will have been returned to storage, and that all Passover-induced food cravings will have been satisfied.

I'm less sure of some other things. Will I have truly fulfilled the mitzvot of Passover, as I understand them? What should a liberal Jewish observance entail, or focus on?

The power of Passover observances - from the ridding one's home of hametz (leavened products) to the seder rituals - like all other Jewish rituals, serve as reminders of our "stories," the narrative we tell about our people. And although stories may be conveyed with words, the enhancement that ritualized and symbolic storytelling offers provide the best kinds of learning, and remembering.

Yosef Abramowitz and Rabbi Susan Silverman put it this way: "Ridding our homes of bread for a week is a creative way to remind ourselves annually that we can and must liberate ourselves and the world in new ways."
(from Jewish Family & Life: Traditions, Holidays and Values for Today's Parents and Children)
The same opportunities exist this month, through the Omer holidays, the "new" Jewish observances that have been added to our liturgical calendar in recent decades. The Omer period began the second night of Passover, and serves as a 49-day countdown to the next major festival, Shavuot.
The three newest (with a fourth, Memorial Day, only observed in Israel) aren't all joyous, nor do they provide the neat home-based rituals associated with Passover and other holidays. Yom Hashoah (Holocaust Remembrance); Yom Ha'aztma'ut (Israel Independence) and Yom Yerushalayim (Jerusalem Day) tend to be marked publicly, communally.

What interests me is the message of creativity and relevance offered by the creation of new Jewish observances. That this is a central feature of our tradition, and has been undertaken all along, is a cornerstone of our Reconstructionist understanding of Judaism as an evolving religious civilization.

At seders this year, I brought a new prayer, entitled A Prayer for Overcoming Indifference, authored by Rabbi Naomi Levy. It reads, in part: "Wake me up, God, ignite my passion, fill me with outrage. Remind me that I am responsible for Your world. Don't allow me to stand idly by. Inspire me to act. Teach me to believe that I can repair some corner of the world." *

This is a new prayer, composed by a young, living rabbi, yet I believe it is a prayer for the ages, and indeed, for all people, religious or secular, to contemplate -- just as the four questions, four children, and four cups of wine may be both particular to our tradition and observances, and yet lead to more broadly universal themes and concerns.

Another set of new writings I received in preparation for this year's seders included four new questions, linked to concern for the ongoing tragedy unfolding in the Darfur region of the Sudan. While the specific ritual circumstance for which they were composed has passed, their relevance, sadly, remains current:

1. Is there something specifically Jewish about working to prevent genocide in Darfur and elsewhere? Or is this a general human value that we should expect of all people for the simple reason that it is right?

2. How can we carve out time and energy for faraway Darfur when we face struggles in our everyday lives that leave little space for it? On the other hand, didn't people offer similar justifications for inaction when faced with evidence that the Holocaust was taking place?

3. Should "never again" have as much meaning when it applies to cases of genocide affecting humans of a different race, alien religion or unfamiliar culture-as in Darfur? Or should we as Jews primarily focus on safeguarding our own?

4. When few of us today actually experience real discrimination and anti-Semitism in our daily lives, how can we be expected to act on Darfur based on ritual and history lessons exhorting us to "act as if we were slaves in Egypt" too? What can we do to take action ourselves, to motivate others to act? **

The phrase "never again" is borrowed from the Jewish response to the Shoah, or Holocaust. That we remember what took place is a feature of all our people's observances, joyous and tragic. That we add the notion "never again" means to me that we are, as a people, perpetually called to witness and act in the face of any such genocide, wherever it occurs.

May these thoughts serve to inspire you creativity, and that of your family, to engage in opportunities provided by the Jewish calendar to repair the world, this month, and year round.***

Rabbi Elizabeth Bolton

REFERENCES and RESOURCES
* http://www.ajws.org/uploaded_documents/Matzah%20Prayer.pdf
** http://www.bethelsudbury.org/jewish_basics/text021.php3
*** http://www.socialaction.com/jewish_holidays.html

Although I write this still "recovering" from the craze of Passover preparations, as you read this, I imagine that our annually-used items will have been returned to storage, and that all Passover-induced food cravings will have been satisfied.

I'm less sure of some other things. Will I have truly fulfilled the mitzvot of Passover, as I understand them? What should a liberal Jewish observance entail, or focus on?

The power of Passover observances - from the ridding one's home of hametz (leavened products) to the seder rituals - like all other Jewish rituals, serve as reminders of our "stories," the narrative we tell about our people. And although stories may be conveyed with words, the enhancement that ritualized and symbolic storytelling offers provide the best kinds of learning, and remembering.

Yosef Abramowitz and Rabbi Susan Silverman put it this way: "Ridding our homes of bread for a week is a creative way to remind ourselves annually that we can and must liberate ourselves and the world in new ways."
(from Jewish Family & Life: Traditions, Holidays and Values for Today's Parents and Children)
The same opportunities exist this month, through the Omer holidays, the "new" Jewish observances that have been added to our liturgical calendar in recent decades. The Omer period began the second night of Passover, and serves as a 49-day countdown to the next major festival, Shavuot.
The three newest (with a fourth, Memorial Day, only observed in Israel) aren't all joyous, nor do they provide the neat home-based rituals associated with Passover and other holidays. Yom Hashoah (Holocaust Remembrance); Yom Ha'aztma'ut (Israel Independence) and Yom Yerushalayim (Jerusalem Day) tend to be marked publicly, communally.

What interests me is the message of creativity and relevance offered by the creation of new Jewish observances. That this is a central feature of our tradition, and has been undertaken all along, is a cornerstone of our Reconstructionist understanding of Judaism as an evolving religious civilization.

At seders this year, I brought a new prayer, entitled A Prayer for Overcoming Indifference, authored by Rabbi Naomi Levy. It reads, in part: "Wake me up, God, ignite my passion, fill me with outrage. Remind me that I am responsible for Your world. Don't allow me to stand idly by. Inspire me to act. Teach me to believe that I can repair some corner of the world." *

This is a new prayer, composed by a young, living rabbi, yet I believe it is a prayer for the ages, and indeed, for all people, religious or secular, to contemplate -- just as the four questions, four children, and four cups of wine may be both particular to our tradition and observances, and yet lead to more broadly universal themes and concerns.

Another set of new writings I received in preparation for this year's seders included four new questions, linked to concern for the ongoing tragedy unfolding in the Darfur region of the Sudan. While the specific ritual circumstance for which they were composed has passed, their relevance, sadly, remains current:

1. Is there something specifically Jewish about working to prevent genocide in Darfur and elsewhere? Or is this a general human value that we should expect of all people for the simple reason that it is right?

2. How can we carve out time and energy for faraway Darfur when we face struggles in our everyday lives that leave little space for it? On the other hand, didn't people offer similar justifications for inaction when faced with evidence that the Holocaust was taking place?

3. Should "never again" have as much meaning when it applies to cases of genocide affecting humans of a different race, alien religion or unfamiliar culture-as in Darfur? Or should we as Jews primarily focus on safeguarding our own?

4. When few of us today actually experience real discrimination and anti-Semitism in our daily lives, how can we be expected to act on Darfur based on ritual and history lessons exhorting us to "act as if we were slaves in Egypt" too? What can we do to take action ourselves, to motivate others to act? **

The phrase "never again" is borrowed from the Jewish response to the Shoah, or Holocaust. That we remember what took place is a feature of all our people's observances, joyous and tragic. That we add the notion "never again" means to me that we are, as a people, perpetually called to witness and act in the face of any such genocide, wherever it occurs.

May these thoughts serve to inspire you creativity, and that of your family, to engage in opportunities provided by the Jewish calendar to repair the world, this month, and year round.***

REFERENCES and RESOURCES
* http://www.ajws.org/uploaded_documents/Matzah%20Prayer.pdf
** http://www.bethelsudbury.org/jewish_basics/text021.php3
*** http://www.socialaction.com/jewish_holidays.html