davka | דוקא | despite everything

כרפס | karpas | eat the green vegetables

Dip sprigs of pars­ley in salt water and dis­trib­ute them to all present at the Seder table while read­ing the fol­low­ing para­graphs and singing the fol­low­ing songs.

My heart over­flows with joy! I final­ly see more day­light than dark­ness and a full moon glows tonight. Cel­e­brate with me the flow­er­ing of the world of nature.

Spring! The sea­son of rebirth and renew­al. On this Pesach fes­ti­val, we read from the Song of Songs.
I want to hold your hand and run through the fields of flow­ers as the fresh sun shines on our faces. I know that what I feel for you mir­rors the love of a car­ing uni­verse for the peo­ple of Israel. This is the song of our betrothal covenant.

For the fol­low­ing two songs (-a- and ‑b-) choose a metaphor that match­es one to whom you are drawn:

- a -

As a lily among thorns, so is my love among the daugh­ters. How fair is thy love, my sis­ter my bride! How much bet­ter is thy love than wine! And the smell of thine oint­ments than all man­ner of spices!

El Ginnat Egoz [Song of Songs 6:11]

אֶל–גִּנַּת אֱגוֹז יָרַדְתִּי

לִרְאוֹת בְּאִבֵּי הַנָּחַל

לִרְאוֹת הֲפָרְחָה הַגֶּפֶן

הֵנֵצוּ הָרִמֹּנִים

I went down to the nut gar­den to look at the plants of the val­ley to see if the flow­ers had bud­ded whether the pome­gran­ates were in bloom.

- b -

As an apple tree among the trees of wood, so is my beloved among the sons. Under its shad­ow I delight­ed to sit, and its fruit was sweet to my taste. He has brought me to the ban­quet­ing-house and his ban­ner over me is love.

Dodi Li [Song of Songs 2…]

דּוֹדִי לִי וַאֲנִי לוֹ הָרוֹעֶה בַּשּׁוֹשַׁנִּים. (2

מוֹר וּלְבוֹנָהמִי זֹאת עֹֹלָה מִן הַמִּדְבָּר, מִי זֹאת עֹֹלָה? מְקֻטֶּרֶת מוֹר, מוֹר וּלְבוֹנָה.
…דּוֹדִי לִי

לִבַּבְתִּינִי אֲחוֹתִי כַּלָּה, לִבַּבְתִּינִי כַּלָּה. (2
…דּוֹדִי לִי

עוּרִי צָפוֹן, וּבוֹאִי תֵּימָן (2
…דּוֹדִי לִי

My beloved is mine and I am my beloved’s, a shep­herd in the wild ros­es.
Who is this, com­ing up from the wilder­ness, per­fumed with myrrh and frank­in­cense?
You have cap­tured my heart, my sis­ter, my bride…
Awake, north wind, and come, south wind…

Togeth­er:

Awake, o north-wind; and come, thou south; Blow upon our gar­den that its spices may flow out. May we enter our gar­den and eat its pre­cious fruits.

Even before the Exo­dus from Egypt our ances­tors prob­a­bly cel­e­brat­ed the mys­tery of life and the cre­ation of the world each spring. Now again, we remind our­selves of the greens of the earth and the salt of the sea from which all life emerged, and on which all life depends.

But we do not sim­ply cel­e­brate spring’s renew­al nor love’s warmth. Pesach cel­e­brates our becom­ing free. Through the won­drous rebirth of life we can feel the pre­car­i­ous begin­nings of the strug­gle for free­dom. The sea’s salt not only reminds us of life’s start, but also of the brine of tears shed by our peo­ple and by all peo­ple striv­ing to be free.

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ אֱלֹהֵנוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הָאֲדָמָה. 

Baruch atah Adon­ai, Elo­heinu melech ha-olam, bor­ei p’ri ha-adamah.
Blessed are You Adon­ai our God, Sov­er­eign of all space and time, who brings fruit from the earth.

Every­one eats the parsley

what is “#blogexodus”?

My friend and col­league Phyl­lis Som­mers has thought of yet a new cre­ative way to pre­pare for Peasach. You can learn more here.

blog­ging the exodus