Dear Friends,

Chad Gadya is one of my favorite parts of Seder. And, as it often does, it has lingered in my mind throughout Chol Hamoed. Like many of the after-dinner songs in the Haggadah, Chad Gadya is a counting/cumulative song and its mysterious history probably has as much to do with communal tavern songs like “99 Bottles Of Beer On The Wall,” or with cumulative songs like “There Was An Old Woman Who Swallowed a Fly,” as it does with the content of the Seder itself. And yet at least for me–and I don’t think I’m alone–its rhythms and ordered repetitions evoke the experience of Pesach every bit as much as the Four Questions.  

Though Chad Gadya is unquestionably silly, its subject and theme–the cascading chain of violent injuries, the haunting specter of death, God’s final redemption–are actually quite heavy. And they recapitulate a much earlier statement in the Haggadah, the disquieting and centrally significant “Vehi she’amdah” statement, which is the promise to our ancestors and to us that in every generation they will try to destroy us and that in every generation God will deliver us. 

In his magnificent commentary to the JPS Haggadah, the Israeli scholar Joseph Tabory notes that unlike another folkloric, cumulative songs that clearly parallels Chad Gadya–a traditional song from New England about a woman who buys a pig at the market for two pennies and struggles to get the pig to accompany her home–Chad Gadya offers no redress. In the song from New England, for instance, the woman hires a dog to bite the stubborn pig. When the dog refuses she hires a stick to hit the dog. And so on. Like in Chad Gadya, she ultimately hires an ox and then a butcher, who hangs. Unlike in Chad Gadya, the initial problem is solved at the end of the song and she eventually does manage to get the pig home because the final animal in the litany–a cat whom she hires to bite a rat so that the rat will gnaw the rope so that the butcher will hang–does in fact do what she wants when she gives it a dish of milk. While it’s true that in Chad Gadya God finally slays the Angel of Death, that doesn’t help the butcher, who is already dead, or the ox whom he slaughtered or the two-bit goat that was nipped at the outset. God comes to rescue but the chain of carnage remains!

This is, I believe, a very keen observation and it communicates something important about the end of Seder and about Jewish thought in general. As human beings–as thinking, conscious animals–one of our primary activities is imposing order, installing categories, describing and explaining a world of experience that often resists even our most finely tuned explanations. Indeed, ordering our experience of redemption is the central activity of the Seder night. But just before we conclude, we add a song that is ostensibly about order–it does, after all, follow a rigid pattern–but that is also about disorder. This is a striking example of the Jewish tolerance for uncertainty and it reminds me of something that Dr. Arnie Eisen suggested several weeks ago in his talk about Jewish theology–his important idea that Jewish theology is distinguished by always having a remainder, something left over that does not quite fit. 

Chad Gadya, by leaving us in a state of incomplete resolution, reminds us that when it comes to life’s greatest questions–the big ticket mysteries of God and meaning, of family and shared destiny–there is always something left over. There is no accounting for absolutely everything, no certainties that are completely unassailable, no calamity that can entirely erase our salvation and no salvation that can entirely recover all that we lose in life. 

Moadim L’simcha, 

Rabbi Benjamin Resnick 

Ben

"And you shall tell your child on that day, saying, 'This is what the Lord did for me when I came out of Egypt'." — Exodus 13:8

For those who missed it, here is our Education Director's article about Passover published last month.

When we celebrate Passover we read from the Haggadah. The word “Haggadah” comes from the Hebrew verb Lehagid, meaning “to tell.” It represents the most important mitzvah (commandment) of the Passover Seder: "And you shall tell your child—vehigadeta levincha." We are commanded to retell the story of Passover—the story of our liberation from slavery to freedom. We share how a group of slaves became a free nation with a unique relationship to the Divine.

The Haggadah enables us to retell this story on multiple levels. It engages all of our senses to convey the core values and beliefs of Judaism. Through smells, tastes, songs, gestures, and visual representations, the Haggadah helps us reflect on the Divine's power to guide us, both individually and as a people. By experiencing the Seder year after year, from childhood to old age, we are reminded of the ongoing journey toward redemption.

The 15 steps of the Seder are more than rituals; they hold deep symbolism. In Hebrew, the number 15 corresponds to the letters Yud and Hei, which are part of G-d's sacred name. Jewish mystics view these 15 steps as a spiritual ascent toward the Divine. Striving to walk these steps, or Simaney Haseder, reflects our quest for connection with God.

The Seder plate is another tool to tell the story of the Exodus. Through symbolic foods—each with its color, shape, taste, and appearance—the plate offers a sensory journey. We are reminded of the bitterness of slavery, the sweetness of freedom, and the tears of the oppressed. It also connects us to the seasonal renewal of Spring, both in nature and for the Jewish people. These timeless concepts are meant to be understood at every stage of life.

Freedom is a fundamental human right and privilege. Passover encourages us to remember our own liberation, honor our freedom, and advocate for social justice in all times and places. Above all, we reaffirm the deep connection between our people and the Divine, who led us out of Egypt.

The Hebrew word for Egypt, Mitzrayim, also means “narrow places.” In this sense, G-d didn’t just take us out of a geographic location; He liberated us from a spiritual condition of narrowness. To be truly free, we must break free from our limitations—both physical and mental.

Matzah, the unleavened bread we eat during Passover, represents this idea. It’s flat, without air or ego. It reminds us of the humility we need to embrace as we begin our journey toward freedom. Just as matzah has no leavening, we are encouraged to strip away the excess baggage in our lives—material possessions, inflated egos—and start fresh, seeking our own redemption.

The Passover story is a metaphor for a new beginning. Just as Spring brings new life to nature, Passover invites each of us to press "restart" on our personal journey. From the first day of Passover to Shavuot, when the Jewish people received the Torah at Sinai, we have 50 days to grow spiritually. We transition from the flatness of matzah to the fullness of freshly baked bread, symbolizing our growth and progress.

By participating in the Passover Seder, we renew ourselves collectively. The Seder allows every member of the community—young and old—to engage in this process of renewal. Through the songs of our ancestors, we pass down our traditions, ensuring that future generations will continue the cycle of spiritual survival and growth.

The Seder begins with a question: "What is different tonight?" This question invites us to reflect on how we’ve changed since last Passover. Who is around the table with us this year? Who is missing? What has changed in each of us? This process of questioning and reflection is central to the Seder and to our personal growth.

At the Learning Center, we celebrated our Model Seder on Thursday, April 3. Parents and grandparents were invited to join us as we asked questions, searched for answers and explored the many lessons of the Passover story - discovering new meanings every year.

Unfortunately, we still have 59 of our brothers held captive in the dark tunnels of Gaza by Hamas. We hope, as we all celebrate our Seders, that the hostages will soon be able to enjoy freedom with their families, both the living and those who need to be brought home for burial in Israel.

Have a meaningful and joyous Passover!

Ana

“Eat something.”

-- Every Jewish grandmother

When you are reading this, Passover may be ending and the interest in all things matzah will have run its course. However, there is the matter of all that extra matzah. With this in mind, instead of trying to write something insightful, I opted for useful.

Recently I discovered and tried this recipe for a Passover safe granola. While yes, it’s matzah based, it’s full of so many other flavors and textures, you might not care.

Matzah Granola for Passover

Ingredients

2 cups matzah farfel or 4 sheets of matzah crushed into really small pieces

¾ cup chopped nuts, i.e., pecans, walnuts, hazelnuts, or almonds, or any combination thereof

¼ cup pumpkin seeds

½ cup unsweetened shredded or flaked coconut

½ teaspoon cinnamon

½ teaspoon kosher salt

¼ cup olive oil

¼ cup honey or maple syrup or any combination thereof

½ teaspoon vanilla extract

¼ teaspoons almond extract

Instructions

Preheat the oven to 325°F and line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a medium bowl, combine the matzah farfel, nuts, pumpkin seeds and coconut.

In a small bowl, combine the olive oil, honey (or maple syrup), cinnamon, salt, vanilla extract and almond extract. Whisk to combine.

Pour the wet mixture over the matzah mixture and mix until the matzah mixture is coated.

Pour the matzah mixture onto the coated baking sheet and spread out evenly using a spatula or wooden spoon.

Bake for approximately 30 minutes, mixing every 10 minutes to be sure it cooks evenly.

Let it sit after you remove it from the oven while it cools and hardens. Once cool, store in a closed container.

Notes

This is a hearty recipe. You can experiment with the sweeteners and the nuts and seeds you use. You could also add dried fruit or chocolate chips (yes please). If you don’t like coconut or don’t have almond extract, you can do without.

For those with food allergies, this is vegan and can be made gluten free.

If this is post-holiday, you can substitute oats for the matzah. Another option is saltines

broken into really small pieces. They add a nice crunch and saltiness.

Lisa

Dear Friends,

When I came of age in the 1960's, the miracle of Israel was an integral part of my Jewish identity. I proudly championed the result of the Six Day War and the pioneering spirit of Israeli know-how. I wanted to imbibe the Israeli sense of tikkun olam. I read everything I could about the nascent state. I was in awe.

As I prepared some thoughts to introduce my Seder this year, I realized that although I am proud to be Jewish, I am no longer proud of how the state of Israel, under the Netanyahu government, is conducting itself. I no longer think that justice, equality and freeing of captives is an Israeli priority. I am profoundly disappointed with my "second home". And, I must admit, I am equally disappointed with the trajectory of the United States, my first home. These are dark times.

The Haggadah has wisdom to share:

בכל דור ודור חיב אדם לראות את עצמו כאילו הוא יצא ממצרים

In every generation a person must see oneself as if he/she had been liberated from Egyptian bondage. The Haggadah says ‘adam’ a person – not a Jewish person.

Why is it necessary to identify as a slave? A slave has no agency. A slave has no control over what is happening. Time is not your own. What you think, what you eat and what you do is dictated by others. It’s impossible to do tikkun olam – improve the world around you as a slave.

Contrast this with the notion of a ‘free’ people. Jews are exhorted to love justice. One cannot pursue justice as a slave. The pursuit of justice is to be sought by all people. Israelis will not be able to live free and just lives until the Palestinian people live free and just lives.

It is unusual for a people’s founding story to place emphasis on what it feels like to be an outsider, a stranger in a strange land. We are taught to have compassion for those who are displaced. Empathy is achieved when we see ourselves as if we had been liberated from Egyptian slavery. Compassion is the touchstone of Judaism. This wisdom has been lost to the Netanyahu government.

Despite its tribulations, Jews are a hopeful people. Israel's national anthem is HaTikvah, “The Hope”. In the words of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, “Pesach is the oldest and most transformative story of hope ever told. It is a story of the defeat of probability by the forces of possibility. It defines what it is to be a Jew: a living symbol of hope.

I pray that my two homelands will find the path back to justice, equality and tikkun olam. I side with the forces of possibility.

Barbara

I Made It Out of Clay

by Beth Kander

No, the 'it' is not a dreidle, but a golem. Kander taps into the ancient Jewish legend of creating a powerful protector, the golem or "mudman" out of clay to ward off tsuris (troubles) and antisemitism.

Eve Goodman has tsuris. She is turning 40, single, still mourning the death of her beloved father, her job as a copywriter is on the rocks, her younger sister, Rosie, is getting married on her birthday weekend and she doesn't have a date for the wedding. Eve is confronted by a crazy antisemite on the subway. And her family synagogue has received a bomb threat.

Eve's maternal grandmother, told her that Chanukkah is about survival. And one tool of Jewish survival is the creation of a protective golem made out of clay. When Eve wakes up from a drunken binge and finds a "hunk" of a mudman beside her, things get weird.

I Made It Out Of Clay is a fun read. The dialogue is witty and the characters are endearing. It's a light read, but it has its serious moments. And the golem, is a perennial character of hope and safety.

Barbara

Meet Michael and Michelle Dvorkin 

Light in the World - Tikkun Olam Honorees

(full version at thepjcgala.org)

We met on an American Zionist Youth Foundation trip to Israel in the summer of 1989 when we were 21.  The following year, Michelle came to New York for a visit, and she's been extending that visit ever since!  Despite our Jewish beginnings, like most young Jews, for years we never even thought about joining a synagogue.  We’d go to the reform synagogue Michael’s family belonged to on High Holidays and, as far as we knew, that was all we would ever need out of a synagogue.  However, things change when you have children. You start thinking not just about yourself, but also about how you want to raise them. Eventually, we decided we wanted our daughters, Alana and Lynn, to have a Jewish education and experience. That’s what led us to the PJC in 2006

At first we’d drop Alana off at Junior Congregation on Saturday mornings and go back home to finish our coffee before picking her up later. Neither one of us had ever attended Shabbat services on any basis whatsoever and attending services ourselves simply hadn’t crossed our minds. But it didn’t seem right to make our daughter go without going ourselves so we started attending Shabbat morning services on Junior Congregation days.  Even then, we fully intended to be faces in the crowd. We didn’t have the slightest expectation that we would “get involved” in the PJC, let alone join synagogue leadership, but there’s no crowd at the PJC and once you start showing up, it’s hard to stay in the background. The community was so welcoming, and everyone is so dedicated to making things happen, that you naturally feel drawn to get involved… While the original intention was to give our daughters a Jewish education, the PJC ended up giving us one too, and one of the things we learned is that Judaism places the highest value on fulfilling one’s obligations.   We wholeheartedly thank the PJC and every PJC member for giving us the opportunity to do so.

-Michelle and Michael Dvorkin

Aleph Pattern

By Sass Sassoon Brown

In Hebrew, the word women is the word men

with the first letter dropped. Not just any letter

but the first first letter, the aleph of the aleph-bet:

אנשים    anashim—men

נשים     nashim—women

The steel band securing the forehead

to the bed is preheated, but cools quickly.

Inside every men is a women

you’ll need to amputate to find.

אלוהים   Elohim—god

לוהים     lohim—to tire

Even the god gets tired in our first story.

Adonai has many lids over each eye

and so she pretends to rest

closing one set of eyelids at a time.

Never a Sabbath of visionless sleep.

אבא      aba—father

בא        ba—come

Do away with the role charged to the first father

and we will all orgasm more freely.

We will bleat like beasts while we come,

our wooly curls matted and frizzy without a single embarrassed shiver.

אני       ani—I/me

ני         ni—lamentation

Too many of the dead

cry silently in their coffins

grateful for a place they can finally weep alone

but fearful even now to be overheard.

The dirt we are formed from can seem so thin.

אים      iyom—threatening

ימ        yam—sea

If the ocean is the first mother

then the lakes are those moments we hear ourselves

threaten our children in our mother’s voice.

Afterward, we absorb the tears into our own waters.

אסור     asoor—forbidden

סור       soor—withdraw

What’s forbidden is often drawn as a circle.

But every circle, no matter how small

contains another circle within.

The way to escape circumscription is inward.

אפשר     efshar—possible

פשר      pishair—compromise

To say possible is to leave someone out.

No one is possible until everyone is.

On this one truth, never compromise.

Source: Poetry (October 2019)

"Share a Simcha" allows congregants to share their news with our PJC community. Please submit news about family members -- engagements, births, job updates, kid achievements, community acknowledgements and any other milestones -- to the HaKol Editor, Barbara Saunders-Adams.

. Mazal Tov to our April Birthday Celebrants:

David Stamfer, Janice Goldklang, Sarah Rubock, Jon Backer, Madison Schneider, Daren Moshe, Arthur Katz, Ava Gerber, Evelyn Trachten, Daniel Droller, Hazel Winquist, Eve Pauley, Benjamin Glickman, Robert Rossman, Madeline Leonard, Anne Borofsky, Adina Mailick, Gabrielle Sasson, Julie Cepler, Robert Goldman, Elise Goldenberg, Josie Kagan, Benjamin Ehrenreich, Brian Perkis, Jessica Winquist, Larisa Breskin, Andy Neubardt, Desmond Bazeli, Joel Peck, Melanie Samuels, Larry Cohen, Amy Ehrlich, Reese Cohen, Jonathan Herzog, Gloria Staple, Eleanor Dreyfus, Efrem Sigel, Claudia Lee, Beth Serebransky

. Mazal Tov to Neil & Beth Yelsey on the birth of a granddaughter, Rayna Fiona Yelsey born on March 27th to Ben & Paula Yelsey

. Mazal Tov to David Haft & Jacqueline Schachter on the birth of a granddaughter, Allison, to Alycia & Adam Weinstein

. Mazal Tov to Gary & Evelyn Trachten on the birth of a grandson, Henry Moshe, born on April 17th to Sofi and Trey.

Share a Simcha is a regular HaKol feature, so keep your news and updates coming!

Tributes

Donations to Leket in honor of Gloria and Sheldon Horowitz's anniversary

• Meryl Glass-Druckerman

Donations to the Rabbi's Discretionary Fund

• Gloria and Sheldon Horowitz

Billing statements are emailed monthly. 

Checks made out to the Pelham Jewish Center can be mailed to Pelham Jewish Center, P.O. Box 418, Montvale, NJ 07645. Credit card payment instructions are on your monthly emailed billing statement, or go to https://thepjc.shulcloud.com/payment.php. 

If you are interested in paying via appreciated securities or IRA distributions, please email Mitch Cepler.

It is the policy of the Pelham Jewish Center to make every effort to assist members experiencing financial challenges. Financial challenges should never be a barrier to being an active member of the PJC community. You can reach out to President, Lisa Neubardt, Treasurer, Mitchell Cepler or Rabbi Benjamin Resnick to speak confidentially concerning your ability to pay PJC dues and Learning Center tuition.